Partners in Crime
Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 1:42 pm
The connection the two of them had was so intimate, it should have scared Diya. She who had nearly perfected the art of running away when things got to tough or real or scary should have hated this boy who could literally read her mind.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Even after the hardest two months she’d had since coming to Westbrook, two months of bickering and stress, she kept coming back to Roach. Like a sad puppy? Like a sheep?
Maybe.
She knew he thought she made dumb choices. He didn’t like how easily she hopped into bed with a pretty face and a kind word. He didn’t like that when there was a chance to get his life back to normal, Diya had chose to stay out of it. And not even alone - but standing by with one of those pretty faces.
She’d apologized to him. But they weren’t over it yet, not really.
After a night of Villainy - petty vandalism in Kings Row to initiate Contagion into the non-Sweet Valley side of Westbrook - Roach had abruptly left their little group, muttering something about projecting too much. It could have meant anything, but considering the way he was snapping at Lauren, she had a few ideas.
Diya knocked back most of another beer - Roach had picked up good stuff for once, maybe he was learning - before saying good bye to Eric and Lauren. She needed to track down Roach, check in on him. Lauren would understand, even if she was maybe a little disappointed.
She’d have to learn that. Roach came first for Diya now. She’d failed him once and didn’t want to do it again.
Roach hadn’t gone far. Diya found him in front of a movie theater, studying the posters behind grimy glass.
He knew she was there. Roach was nearly impossible to sneak up on - pesky psionic - but the weird link the two of them shared made it absolutely impossible for Diya to surprise him. So he hardly even reacted when she came up behind him and stood on her tip toes to rest her chin on his shoulder.
When he didn’t react, Diya stole his hat, the black fedora, like she had a thousand times.
Roach spun around to face her, glaring and pointing a finger in her face.
Diya kept up her own mask of neutrality, even though she knew Roach could sense her bubbling, chaotic thoughts about this scene. “What?”
Roach frowned, tensing up his whole face for a moment, before taking a small step forward, and turning his point into a hug. If Roach had been a bigger guy, she would have described it as a bear hug, the kind where his arms wrapped all the way around her and engulfed her tiny frame. But even if Roach was too small and scrawny to hold her that way, she still felt warm and safe and protected - things that would probably surprise most other people who knew Roach, who thought he wasn’t capable of much other than sarcasm.
“Nope. Shut the fuck up,” Roach muttered into her hair.
Diya complied, shutting her mouth, and relaxing into the embrace.
“You annoy the livin’ shit out of my sometimes,” Roach mumbled.
Diya let out the smallest laugh. “Ditto.”
“Gonna miss the shit outta you in four months.”
“Don’t talk about that.”
Roach just grunted in response.
They lingered in the hug for another minute, and in that minute, Diya realized something: she loved Roach. And he loved her. Not the way he loved Brook, clearly - those two clearly had something special that Diya could only hope she’d find some day - but she and Roach had something special.
And she never wanted to lose it.
Perhaps he sensed her mushy thoughts, or was just tired of standing in one place, but Roach eventually pushed Diya away with an “atta girl” type of slap to her shoulder. She handed him back his hat.
Roach slid it back onto his head with practiced ease. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly with a shrug. “That was just an excuse to feel your chest against mine. Hot.”
Diya sniffed - she hadn’t realized until that moment how sentimental and sappy she was feeling. Stupid period. Maybe she could blame it on the cold - but as soon as she thought it, she knew the futility of it. This was Roach. He knew everything. “Shuddup, you.” She gave him a shove.
Roach snorted and moved back in to put an arm around Diya’s shoulder, quickly trying to turn it into a headlock. This she was used to. This was how they usually showed their affection - he headlocks her, she slips out and pulls him into one of her own, and on and on they would scuffle.
She would miss it, sure. But she was also glad that, at least once, she got to hold Roach close and just stand in peaceful silence, both of them understanding just how important they were to each other.
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Even after the hardest two months she’d had since coming to Westbrook, two months of bickering and stress, she kept coming back to Roach. Like a sad puppy? Like a sheep?
Maybe.
She knew he thought she made dumb choices. He didn’t like how easily she hopped into bed with a pretty face and a kind word. He didn’t like that when there was a chance to get his life back to normal, Diya had chose to stay out of it. And not even alone - but standing by with one of those pretty faces.
She’d apologized to him. But they weren’t over it yet, not really.
After a night of Villainy - petty vandalism in Kings Row to initiate Contagion into the non-Sweet Valley side of Westbrook - Roach had abruptly left their little group, muttering something about projecting too much. It could have meant anything, but considering the way he was snapping at Lauren, she had a few ideas.
Diya knocked back most of another beer - Roach had picked up good stuff for once, maybe he was learning - before saying good bye to Eric and Lauren. She needed to track down Roach, check in on him. Lauren would understand, even if she was maybe a little disappointed.
She’d have to learn that. Roach came first for Diya now. She’d failed him once and didn’t want to do it again.
Roach hadn’t gone far. Diya found him in front of a movie theater, studying the posters behind grimy glass.
He knew she was there. Roach was nearly impossible to sneak up on - pesky psionic - but the weird link the two of them shared made it absolutely impossible for Diya to surprise him. So he hardly even reacted when she came up behind him and stood on her tip toes to rest her chin on his shoulder.
When he didn’t react, Diya stole his hat, the black fedora, like she had a thousand times.
Roach spun around to face her, glaring and pointing a finger in her face.
Diya kept up her own mask of neutrality, even though she knew Roach could sense her bubbling, chaotic thoughts about this scene. “What?”
Roach frowned, tensing up his whole face for a moment, before taking a small step forward, and turning his point into a hug. If Roach had been a bigger guy, she would have described it as a bear hug, the kind where his arms wrapped all the way around her and engulfed her tiny frame. But even if Roach was too small and scrawny to hold her that way, she still felt warm and safe and protected - things that would probably surprise most other people who knew Roach, who thought he wasn’t capable of much other than sarcasm.
“Nope. Shut the fuck up,” Roach muttered into her hair.
Diya complied, shutting her mouth, and relaxing into the embrace.
“You annoy the livin’ shit out of my sometimes,” Roach mumbled.
Diya let out the smallest laugh. “Ditto.”
“Gonna miss the shit outta you in four months.”
“Don’t talk about that.”
Roach just grunted in response.
They lingered in the hug for another minute, and in that minute, Diya realized something: she loved Roach. And he loved her. Not the way he loved Brook, clearly - those two clearly had something special that Diya could only hope she’d find some day - but she and Roach had something special.
And she never wanted to lose it.
Perhaps he sensed her mushy thoughts, or was just tired of standing in one place, but Roach eventually pushed Diya away with an “atta girl” type of slap to her shoulder. She handed him back his hat.
Roach slid it back onto his head with practiced ease. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly with a shrug. “That was just an excuse to feel your chest against mine. Hot.”
Diya sniffed - she hadn’t realized until that moment how sentimental and sappy she was feeling. Stupid period. Maybe she could blame it on the cold - but as soon as she thought it, she knew the futility of it. This was Roach. He knew everything. “Shuddup, you.” She gave him a shove.
Roach snorted and moved back in to put an arm around Diya’s shoulder, quickly trying to turn it into a headlock. This she was used to. This was how they usually showed their affection - he headlocks her, she slips out and pulls him into one of her own, and on and on they would scuffle.
She would miss it, sure. But she was also glad that, at least once, she got to hold Roach close and just stand in peaceful silence, both of them understanding just how important they were to each other.