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“Hey G. If I talk… will you listen?”
Grian has to open his eyes to stare at Scar when he says it. Scar doesn’t think he likes the look on his face, like he’s grown a second head. It’s a reasonable request, isn’t it?
He tips his head up, away, so he doesn’t have to look. He thinks he hears him snort. It sounds like an ugly sound to him, right now at least.
”Sure.” Grian says, with a certain amount of discomfort in his gaze. Scar knows Grian. But he also knows himself, and Scar knows that if he does not talk about this he will explode like a TNT minecart.
“Do you want me around?” Is the first thing he asks, already feeling pinpricks of pressure behind his eyes.
Grian moves back, talons scraping across stone. “What?”
His brows furrow. It’s a simple enough question, and the fact that Grian isn’t immediately saying ‘yes’ kind of makes him want to cry. “Do you want me around.” He repeats, irritated now.
”…Why would you think I don’t want you around?” It’s weird to say Grian is being… practical, about this- But it is what he’s doing. It’s what he does, always. Good for survival. Not good for much else.
“Because that’s… that’s what you act like. Always, all the time.” Tick. Tick. Tick. “I come back to you, I come back to you every time, and it’s cruel.” Tick. Tick. He takes a breath. Tick. “You- you make it clear, every time, every game, that I’m not what you want. What am I meant to do? How am I meant to feel?” He sniffs, brings a hand up to wipe at his face and is surprised when it comes back wet.
”…Crying. Again. That’s all he ever does… Is that all?”
What. “What?” He whispers, confused and lost. He’s almost surprised by how weak his voice comes out.
“We don’t have time for this. We can’t go back to the desert, or whatever it is you want. That was so long ago.” Grian says, looking away.
“I never said I wanted that.” He thinks he’s lost the plot now, tears running down his face- or is it raining? “You’re being mean.”
”Mean, he says.” Grian sighs, incredulous.
"Mean! You’re not being a good friend.” He clenches his fists, breathing hard. The air is somehow both crisp and damp. “I don’t think I want to forgive you this time.”
Grian laughs. He used to like that sound, but now it’s making him sick, all sharp sounds at his expense. “I never asked you to forgive me.”
”Of course you didn’t! I forgave you without you having to ask! Because that’s what friends do, Grian!”
For a moment, Grian only blinks at him. Then, “I do want you around. To answer your question,” He sighs, “but you are such a handful.”
Scar stares at him as the rain starts to pour. Glances at his pocket watch. Their breaks nearly over. “I know. But you know what, G?”
”…Hm?”
“I promise to kill you as quickly as possible, if that means anything.” A mercy he was never allowed. But that’s ok. People don’t kill Scar quickly. People don’t build graves for Scar. He’s learning to be ok with that.
It doesn’t mean much.