[It's astonishing the things she could get used to. Freya hardly bat an eye when something appeared in the corner of her vision, glancing at the object briefly before accepting it with a muttered thanks.]
[She'd never. To no one that didn't have it coming.]
[She didn't say anything else. Freya lingered by the window, staring absently and picking through her hair. After a silent moment, she trailed over to the couch, sitting at the other end.]
[Lucy left her alone for awhile after she sat, stroking the cat again. Said cat trilled a bit when Freya sat down, wiggling out of Lucy's arms to pad across the couch to see if he could solicit pets from this other familiar human.
What, other than the fact I went and got myself kicked outta the house a week after our anniversary, and raised a fuss when Pen tried to smooth things over?
[Freya didn't respond immediately to Fang's request, instead turning her head to stare at the cat. Unblinkingly, he stared back with that kind of endless feline patience. After a moment, Freya reached out to scratch his back, and Fang pushed a little farther up on his toes.]
[Even if Freya still thought she made a valid, important point this morning, it still weighed heavily on her shoulders, and it showed in their slouch. Rather, how she went about it had affected Pen, and the ways that it didn't. She hated these fights, and how she could never seem to turn herself away from starting them.]
Just jumpin' back to where we left off isn't gonna solve any problems. [But fighting wouldn't, either. Why was it so hard to find a middle ground?]
[Lucy grimaced a bit, not looking away. She'd heard about that before, yes, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant. Even if the couch was different, this time.
She listened quietly, leaning on her knees once the cat was out of the way.]
[Two vectors scooped the cat up; Fang chirruped a bit, but was mostly used to these things. They moved him over just a little to the left, enough to plop the cat on Freya's lap, where he curled up with his paws tucked under himself.
And Lucy scooted over until she could reach with her arms, curling them around her friend's shoulders.]
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Oh, you know--just a sparkling day in ever after. [Freya waved a sarcastic hand at the emphasis. It fell back to her side.] Tonberry's bein' an ass.
...we wake you?
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[A vector drifted over Lucy's shoulder to grab a comb off of the coffee table, then floated over to hover near Freya's shoulder.]
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Yeah? Probably the monsters.
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The tomato does interior design now?
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[Well, since she had the comb, Freya started picking it half-heartedly through her hair.]
Dunno what else it'd be. I didn't do it.
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Didn't think it was. That doesn't seem like something you'd do.
[Freya was a...well, rough-around-the-edges but still upstanding citizen who'd definitely never burglarize anyone's house.]
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[She didn't say anything else. Freya lingered by the window, staring absently and picking through her hair. After a silent moment, she trailed over to the couch, sitting at the other end.]
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Lucy didn't leave things quiet too long.]
Everything okay?
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[Freya didn't respond immediately to Fang's request, instead turning her head to stare at the cat. Unblinkingly, he stared back with that kind of endless feline patience. After a moment, Freya reached out to scratch his back, and Fang pushed a little farther up on his toes.]
[Even if Freya still thought she made a valid, important point this morning, it still weighed heavily on her shoulders, and it showed in their slouch. Rather, how she went about it had affected Pen, and the ways that it didn't. She hated these fights, and how she could never seem to turn herself away from starting them.]
Just jumpin' back to where we left off isn't gonna solve any problems. [But fighting wouldn't, either. Why was it so hard to find a middle ground?]
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She listened quietly, leaning on her knees once the cat was out of the way.]
Talk to her again? You'll regret it if you don't.
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I will. [It's a mutter, more than anything.] Just. Not now. Can't.
[She wasn't half as calm as she acted, right now. The turmoil was too fresh, and Freya too emotion-driven.]
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Lucy reached out to scratch at the part of the cat's back that she could reach, a handy midpoint between them.]
Will a hug help?
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Don't see how it wouldn't.
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And Lucy scooted over until she could reach with her arms, curling them around her friend's shoulders.]