It does find amusement that so many are engaging with this uptight agent in a silly game of pass or smash. Though Shadow was not one for such things, finding them pointless and childish, buuuut...
He thought he ought to put his own twist on it. When he sees Nestor passing by the special confinement made specially for them, Shadow muses out to her.
"It's easier to Pass and Smash things, darling... but what this devil wants to know... Love or Pass?"
It knows for a fact there is no love for him, no. Not ever. Not from her or those that stare outside his prison... but he wants her to look at him, look into his burning eyes and speak. He will know what her speaks despite what her mouth says... if she is to entertain him.
Smash or Pass.
@dichotomouskey
She had hoped that her usual demeanor would shoo away people from even thinking about it. Especially since she wasn't like Marie, way more open with the whole... thought process. If she could reverse this whole thing, she probably would have, even if her peers probably found it to be some kind of bonding thing that humanized her or whatever.
Thankfully, she could disappear into the bowels of HQ and wander for hours (or days) if she wanted to. Hearing the familiar voice calling out to her as she passed his confinement made her slow her steps to a halt. Her head turned, amber eyes burning quietly in the dim lighting of the corridor. Why was he lingering when he had an entire enclosure to disappear into?
Her eyes narrowed slightly, rechecking the words spoken. The guy didn't speak like that. No, this was Shadow then.
"I care about you and Sasaki equally, even if you tend to be insufferable more often." Nestor stated and it was genuine. Love? That was more complicated. But she cared about him in the way she cared about Sasaki, or any other being in existence. She had a broad compassion... but a more personal compassion, now that was the real issue.
That was why she deflected first.
And she could see it. She knew why was being asked of her.
Love. Love. It was so important. She knew it. She understood it both intimately and from a distance. And yet it was the very thing she pushed away. Rejected, fled from, denied. Love hurt.
It's supposed to hurt, because it's real.
How many times has she heard it? During funeral arrangements for her parents, for Adrian, for colleagues, for early partners before they sent her out solo-- how many times has she heard it?
Why did love hurt if it was meant to be good?
Why did life hurt if it was meant to be lived?
She didn't... she didn't want it anymore.
The child inside her that still clung to things like hope was now holding it, buried deep in the only place that could be safe as the rest of her fell apart in the line of duty.
Her hardened stare lingered on him before there was the barest softening.
"Love... is for beings like you."
There's no disdain or jealousy. A quiet exhaustion, an honest answer from someone who has simply given up on that aspect of existence.
Yes, she loved her found family and knew they loved her but... she just couldn't be around it long. It hurt. Even the positives in life just hurt. Her bones ached constantly the moment love came into question. She loved so much, she loved so hard it felt like she'd implode. And now she was just tired of it.
This body of hers... this identity, this soul, it existed to give others the chance to love and live. It wasn't for her. A quick fuck now and then to decompress, sure. But love?
Her gaze lingered on Shadow, because that seemed like it was something for him to understand and embrace. He could be scary, he could be cruel, he could be so many things... but when it came to love, from what she understood, that was for his hands to cradle because hers shook too much now.
Love. Yes, a part of her still cried out for it. But every sensible part of her, every frayed nerve in her body knew better. Which was funny, because she also knew how contradictory it was when the advice she'd give anyone else was to never give up.
But that was Nestor. The walking contradiction.
She tipped her head in a silent 'goodnight' continued walking the long, dimly lit path in the dead of night. Staring at the dark end of the hallway that seemed to be so hilarious and pathetically accurate.
Pass. She passed on love because it felt like she had to if she was going to survive. She didn't know where to even begin on repairing her relationship with that word, but she also wasn't looking to.
