[Realizing it's tearing itself down would involve a lot more mental health and accurate assessment of the world around it and what's going on than Nothing has. For four years no one has told it to stop and think or told it things will be okay. For years prior, it was the disregarded sibling, the less important and less normal child, ignored, told to be quiet, told not to be so annoying. No one ever taught it healthy ways to work through things.
No one should be surprised someone mentally ill enough to take comfort in being called Nothing is not someone with people skills or the ability to listen and process things correctly.
Nothing scoots closer on the floor - the benefit of telekinetic arms is that it doesn't matter if its' visible ones are occupied - in order to be close to him. The desire to kiss him is there but stronger now is the desire to touch, not even necessarily romantically, just physically, just to feel someone else's presence and keep itself grounded in the present.]
I think I'd like that. Having someone there for me, I mean. I don't really know what that's like. I want to be there for you, too. You treat me like I'm a person.
[That's how low Nothing's bar for friendship or admiration is. It just wants someone to treat it like a person, even if it doesn't think of itself in those terms.]
It's okay. I had it coming. [A small, casual shrug.] I've heard worse. I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong. Or at least, not on purpose, which is different than the usual crap I get from people. You're a good person, I know you didn't want to be hurtful, I just... I don't process things right, sometimes.
[Nothing cautiously moves to rest its' tired head against Jason's shoulder. Sitting here on the floor, using its' telekinetic vectors to hold its' weight so it can keep its' hands intertwined with his, it feels better than it has in days. The fog that so often comes when it slips out of itself, that exhausted headspace where whole days blur together without meaning anything or Nothing retaining any long-term memory of events, is lifting.]
We can figure it out, yeah. I... Jason? [Its' voice is soft, shy.] I think maybe I fucked up and hurt you, too. And I'm sorry. I thought if I'm stressing you out then it's better if I'm not around to make your life worse. I wasn't trying to hurt you. [It nuzzles its' head into his shoulder, too tired to come up with a better way to show affection.]
no subject
No one should be surprised someone mentally ill enough to take comfort in being called Nothing is not someone with people skills or the ability to listen and process things correctly.
Nothing scoots closer on the floor - the benefit of telekinetic arms is that it doesn't matter if its' visible ones are occupied - in order to be close to him. The desire to kiss him is there but stronger now is the desire to touch, not even necessarily romantically, just physically, just to feel someone else's presence and keep itself grounded in the present.]
I think I'd like that. Having someone there for me, I mean. I don't really know what that's like. I want to be there for you, too. You treat me like I'm a person.
[That's how low Nothing's bar for friendship or admiration is. It just wants someone to treat it like a person, even if it doesn't think of itself in those terms.]
It's okay. I had it coming. [A small, casual shrug.] I've heard worse. I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong. Or at least, not on purpose, which is different than the usual crap I get from people. You're a good person, I know you didn't want to be hurtful, I just... I don't process things right, sometimes.
[Nothing cautiously moves to rest its' tired head against Jason's shoulder. Sitting here on the floor, using its' telekinetic vectors to hold its' weight so it can keep its' hands intertwined with his, it feels better than it has in days. The fog that so often comes when it slips out of itself, that exhausted headspace where whole days blur together without meaning anything or Nothing retaining any long-term memory of events, is lifting.]
We can figure it out, yeah. I... Jason? [Its' voice is soft, shy.] I think maybe I fucked up and hurt you, too. And I'm sorry. I thought if I'm stressing you out then it's better if I'm not around to make your life worse. I wasn't trying to hurt you. [It nuzzles its' head into his shoulder, too tired to come up with a better way to show affection.]