Cissan casually sipped cider as she read the question, before spitting it out. "G-G-Give Sh-Shinji a-a-a..." Her cheeks were completely red, and she was stuttering furiously, trying to form words.
...Of course, that moment never really even came.
"How d-d-- I don't even kn-know h-h-how t-to, y-y-yeah!"
For Ash, BECAUSE HER LITTLE BIT OF DRABBLE THAT SHE WROTE MADE ME SAD, SO I HAD TO WRITE SAD THINGS AND HER SHINJI MADE ME SAD
Under a cut because this sad shit is long
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The first part is here.
Her hands reached out, and lightly rested on his shoulders, carefully, and she sat up on her knees so she was eye-level to him, even though his head was still down. Cissan thought again for a moment before she said softly, “You shouldn’t still be believing ‘em, sir, I think. Things like that… it’s hard to forget. I can only hope that I can make it better; pay you back for all the things you didn’t deserve, give you more for all the less you got then. I can’t take away the physical scars at all,” She gulped squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “But I can try my hardest to take away the ones up here.” Raising a hand, she placed it lightly on his head.
"Take 'em away?" He squeezed his knees, pressing his lips together for a moment. His head tilted up just a bit, looking up at her with nearly-narrowed golden eyes, "How're y' expectin' t' do tha', hn? I' hasn' happen' ye', an' m' startin' t' doubt i' ever will." Cissan looked to the side for a moment as her hand fell down to rest on his shoulder.
"I help you make new ones, yeah. I've never experienced anything l-like that," her voice trembled in the slightest, "And I can only imagine to know how it feels, but... I'm determined, yeah. I'm determined to. I'm not sure what way, how long it'll take, or anything like that, b-but I will take them away, okay?" She was looking him in the eyes, trying to keep herself from crying, because she felt she had no right to do so. "I'm going to make sure you don't believe all of that stuff anymore. Things like that you're not good at anything-- which is complete bullshit, because you can cook ten times better than me-- and that you're not worth anything-- also bullshit, because you're worth a helluva lot to me, y-yeah." And he leaned up, then, moving one of his arms from around his legs to rest back on. His eyes were still narrowed, and his voice was still strained, still hurt.
"An' how do y' expect me to start tryin' to believe y', hn? 'Ve still got a shit ton a' trust issues tha' aren' goin' t' stop now." Shinji's tone was obvious disbelief, and Cissan kept looking at him, placing her hands in her lap, and her shoulders falling.
"That's my job, yeah-- You don't need to try and believe me, I need to make myself believable. I need to give you reasons to trust me, and that's what I'm determined to do, yeah." He didn't say anything, and her head fell back down, and she squeezed her hands in her lap. "I-- I'm shit at relationships, yeah. I get scared too easily, I run away, I'm a scaredy-cat," She took another breath as she looked up, her voice a tad bit stronger, "B-But fuck it all if I'm not stubborn, yeah! If I say I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it! I'll just have to make that known to you." He stared at her in silence for another second before leaning forward, closer to her, looking her in the eyes.
"An' I'm askin' how y' plan on doin' tha', hn." Raising a hand up, he pressed a finger to the middle of her chest, his golden eyes still on her emerald ones. "How d' y' plan on gettin' me t' believe y', hn?" It was a soft, quiet accusation, but an accusation nonetheless. Warm, tattooed fingers wrapped around his, and Cissan pressed her lips together before responding.
"I'll ask you to teach me how to cook pasta, yeah. I'll sit and watch you draw and paint and wonder how the hell someone can be so amazing at something. I'll look around your tattoo parlor in awe because I have no artistic talent whatsoever. I'll eventually pay you back for those chocolate-covered strawberries that I ate a while ago, and I'll bake pies for you. I'll get drunk with you, or I'll get drunk and you'll be there with me, or vise-versa. I'll be there for you when you need me, and I'll probably be there when you don't need me too. But that's just it, yeah--" Cissan was holding his hand in her lap, and her eyes were red from trying not to cry, and her cheeks were puffed out like a little child. "I'll be there for you, yeah. Promise."
He stared at her, his eyes widening for a second, before they softened. A smile pulled at his lips, and Shinji took his hand out of her grasp, just to poke her lightly on the cheek. "Y'look like yer goin' t' cry, Cissan-chan." Her cheeks puffed out further, and her lips pulled into a small frown, and she looked away. Shit, she should being crying, she didn't go through any of what he had.
"I... I'm not, yeah." Before she could reach up to hastily wipe her almost-wet eyes, he grabbed her hands, holding them back down in her lap with one of his. "...I'm not going to, y-yeah, uh un."
"Why aren' y' pityin' m', hn?" Her eyes widened slightly at his rather sudden question.
"Because p-pity doesn't help, yeah."
"How do y' know?" She answered rather quickly.
"Because pity is easy to give-- help... h-healing isn't, yeah." His hand reached up to hold the side of her face, letting his long fingers run through her dark brown hair, even though her eyes looked away from his. "I... I have a fear, yeah, of rainstorms. Bad ones. Thunder, lighting, floods, all of that-- but it makes even the smallest rainstorms terrif-terrifying to me, yeah." Shit, she felt like she was speaking way too much, and she was still trying not to cry, and she was horrfied to tell him this but she was, dammit. "The relationships I have been in... I've been scared to tell them because I'd either get laughed at-- told it was a dumbass f-fear, I-I was a dumbass-- or I'd get pity. And I'd feel patronized, like a little kid. So, I never did tell, and it'd tend t-to backfire, y-yeah. But... I d-don't want it to backfire with you, and I know that pity doesn't work. Understanding does, yeah. W-Willingness to help. So th-that's what I'm going to give you, yeah."
Shinji watched her squeeze her eyes shut again, and he impulsively pulled her head to his chest, making her nearly fall into his lap. "I'll make a deal wi' y' then, hn." She tilted her head up, eyes wide now, and her cheeks red; he was smiling softly, his fingers still running through her hair, "Y' heal me, an' I'll heal y'." Her mouth opened to say something, but he spoke before she could even start. "Y' believe me, an' I'll believe y'. Yer no' a dumbass, an' it's okay t' be afraid a' shit. Y'want t' understand me, so I'm goin' t' understand y'. Deal?"
She looked back down, into his shirt, slient for a moment before she took a deep breath and shifted slightly, "...Deal, yeah."
ooc: WE NEED TO RP! Like for real. Your character is intriguing and holy fuck just ;asdlkfjasdf LET ME LOVE YOU. You were way too nice to me and I just a;lsdkfja ;; honestly I feel inferior to you.
Cissan rubbed the back of her head, blushing, not looking at him as she spoke, "So, ah, Shinji, sir..." The automatic politeness came back in because of her nervousness, and she kept her eyes on the ground.
She looked up, then down, then to the side, then back down again.
"I-I... don't know. But I'd, uh, want to, y-yeah..." Her cheeks were bright red, and she scratched the back of her head. "I mean-- I spilled my guts to him kinda yesterday, yeah, when I was drunk, so I probably seemed like an idiot." Her shoulders fell just a bit, and she sighed. "So... Yeah, yeah I would like to."
Cissan frowned-- or more so pouted-- as she gripped her knees, staring at him with bright green eyes. She was sitting on the couch in his apartment, watching curiously as he moved the pencil over the sheet of paper with mastery she wished she could have possessed. "I told you, I didn't want anything for Christmas, yeah. I'm perfectly fine with you just--"
"Jus' let m' finish, Cissan-chan," Shinji looked up for a mere second, then right back at the sketchbook that was taking up most of his concentration, "An' geez, stop movin'. I need y' t' sit still. It's harder fer m' t' draw ya if y' keep movin'."
Her eyes widened a bit, and she reddened, frowning a bit. "Fine, fine," She grumbled, cheeks puffing out, squeezing her knees again. It was silent again, for a couple minutes, and Cissan was tapping her tattooed fingers against the fabric of her dark green skirt.
"...Why're y' blushin'?" He grinned, sitting the pencil down and resting his cheek on his palm. She stopped looking at the floor long enough to look back up at him.
"B-Because you've been staring at me for the past hour, yeah!" Cissan looked to the side, then up, then back at him, "And I didn't expect you to get me a gift. I told you that, yeah."
He shrugged, standing up from his seat as he picked up the sketchbook. "Well, too bad. T' both reasons. I had t' stare at y', an' I want t' give y' a present. So I am." When she pouted and flustered even worse, he snickered, walking over and falling next to her onto the couch. "Calm down a bi', would ya? Yer gettin' this whether y' want i' 'r no'." Throwing his arm over the couch behind her, he dropped the sketchbook in her lap. "Merry Christmas, Cissan-chan."
Her eyes widened as she gingerly picked up the sketchbook. She opened her mouth to say something, but she closed her mouth back, just looking at it. "...Goodness gracious, Shinji, sir..." Her cheeks were red again as she looked from him, to the sketchbook, to him, then back to the sketchbook. She muttered softly, "I said you didn't have to... It's really good, yeah." It wasn't that she didn't want it-- definately not-- it was just that she wasn't used to it. When she lived with her father, they has a mutual understanding of the fact that they didn't have the money for presents, and this was her first Christmas away from him.
"An' I said I wanted t' anyway," He grinned, looking at the portrait from over her shoulder, "Lot's a' th' time, the drawin's are better b'cause th' models fer 'em are beautiful. So give th' model th' credit."
Cissan frowned at him, then laughed, poking his cheek, and trying to hide the fact that she's blushing even harder. "Flattery will get you nowhere, yeah." He swatted at her hand, snickering, before grabbing her cheeks in his hands.
"Well," He started, his voice just a bit lower, "Yer blushin' again, so i' seems t' be gettin' m' somewhere." Her voice stopped in her throat, and she looked away from him, only making him snicker again and lean in closer. "...See, yer gettin' even redder~"
