Daiane’s face fell as Hera spoke, a little sigh pushing through her mouth. Even as Hera tried to reassure her, she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest. They insisted that she wasn’t just another girl they cheated with, but, well, if it looks like sh-t, and smells like sh-t… you don’t need to taste it to know it’s sh-t. Although Dai is a very affectionate person, her affection always meant something; her hugs were strongholds of comfort or greetings that said, “hi you! I love you!” and her kisses were professions or reminders of her love and adoration. So, for Hera to kiss her, a tiny part of her had thought that it must have had some meaning to them… but it seemed like the only meaning was that Hera wanted to escape her relationship, and didn’t mind using Daiane to accomplish that. That hurt more than she had wanted to admit, like an aching pang deep in her chest. “‘You just’ what?” She asked quietly, wanting to understand and wanting to be told that it wasn’t what it seemed like. “You kissed me to get back at your ex? To feel better? What—I don’t, get it, Hera. …I thought you—” Dai paused, regarding them with dim eyes. “Nevermind.” Daiane hugged herself, rubbing her arms as if from a newly felt cold.
Dai knew she couldn’t ignore things forever, but, hell, would she sure like to. There it was again, the mention of the clinical trial. It was true that she didn’t want to talk about it, but a large part of her felt like she owed that much to Hera. They had been so honest with her up until now; maybe it was her turn to be a little vulnerable. “The trial…” She closed her eyes firmly, fighting against the tears that already begun knocking at her eyelids. Dai wanted to say something, but her words were needles in her mouth when they were usually rivers, and all she could feel was a piercing agony. What could she even say? The tears had already begun to stream before she opened her eyes, her vision watery. “I didn’t–” A sob broke past her lips. “I just wanted my dad, I just wanted my dad, I just—” Her head fell into her hands, her cries becoming wracks that shook her whole body.
Later, when her tears had all dried up, she reminded Hera of who they really were—not who they thought they were. “Anytime,” she murmured, a little smile pulling at the corner of her lips. Dai slowly removed her hands from their shoulders, but they didn’t move back; just the opposite, in fact—they seemed to move closer. Her breath caught in her throat as Hera reached towards her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The intimacy was startling to her, and she shifted, avoiding Hera’s gaze as a blush seared her cheeks.
She welcomed the rambling change of topic, bouncing off of Hera as they went on. “Hera, how much of this is actual, rational worry and how much of it is your protective big sibling worry? Cause Sammy isn’t stupid, so I’m sure she’s got a hold on things, even if we don’t like this ‘Eligma’.” Dai laughed slightly, nudging at Hera. “We don’t like Eligma right? I mean, fakeness is definitely a negative point for him, plus the other boyfriend thing—but maybe they’re in a poly relationship Hera and everything’s totally consensual! If Sammy wants to try something new, she should go for it. Sometimes new is good,” she added, a tad wistfully. “Yeah, Persephone—” Dai started, but was quickly cut off by Hera’s overlapping question, one that caught her utterly by surprise. "Why didn’t you fight when I said we were over?”
“Why didn’t I—what?” Daiane repeated, dumbfounded, any taste of laughter drying up in her mouth. “Fight?” What was with them and their steadfast grip onto the past? Finally, she was beginning to feelcomfortable with them again—and she was glad, as she treasured their friendship—but they always wanted to talk about their past relationship, as if it wasn’t just that—past. They decided to end things, not her, so how come it sounded like they were blaming her for their relationship ending? Here’s what Dai remembered: her heart shattering, ripped from her chest, left to bleed on the floor; the dark pain of being abandoned, deaf to reason; her tears and her pleads and her final goodbye, strong, after which she crumpled and fell and broke. Here’s what she knew now: their patronizing “for your own good”; a promise of change; now this rehashing of past wounds never quite healed. What good did it do? “I was very upset about it, Hera, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Daiane’s word were soft, but their edges were hard, holding an unusual firmness. Bitter thoughts ran amok in her mind, but she held her tongue, hoping Hera would just drop the topic like flaming coals.