They just usually want something, you know? And when they get it, they're gone. Which is, like... whatever, it's fine.
But people don't date me, Sax. I'm a weird scrawny artist who has nudes plastered all over the internet and sees dead people. That's not like... partner material.
What if he wants more'n that? [Wolves are messy. They don't do casual or passing flings. They're intense in a way that Saxsice can't quite explain without unpacking so much shit. Almost ten years and hundreds of miles, and she can still feel that link with her mother, can't tell if it's love or possession.
But that's neither here nor there. Right now she's here, kissing Iggy's cheek, then straightening up.] Okay, sugar, you get comfy, I'm gonna watch some trash TV so you can rest and stop worryin' yourself.
I. Can't actually conceive of that. I mean... it would be nice. To have somebody want to be with me because they like me, not just what I can do for them. And to not want to change me. That would be a fucking dream come true.
[He rolls his eyes.]
I hurt my butt, I'm not dying of tuberculosis. Come on, let's watch Love Is Blind or something.
...yeah. [Saxsice sighs, fluffing up a pillow, then sprawling back on it and tugging at Iggy's arm.] It would be, huh. I'll let you know if that exists, deal?
Shut up, what if you don't rest enough and recover and have to go on ass disability? Then how'll you provide for your wife and children, hm?
I know, darlin'. [She's pulling up the dumb TV show on her phone, then handing it over to Iggy, because she can't remember what episode they're on.] You too, y'know. Whatever I can.
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...don't tell me that, I might start entertaining ideas.
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[She huffs out a laugh, looking up at him.] Is it so hard to believe that he might actually care about you? Even just a little bit?
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Well. I mean.
[He shrugs, looking away.]
...yes?
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So instead she just reaches up, petting Iggy's hair gently, cheek resting on his shoulder.]
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They just usually want something, you know? And when they get it, they're gone. Which is, like... whatever, it's fine.
But people don't date me, Sax. I'm a weird scrawny artist who has nudes plastered all over the internet and sees dead people. That's not like... partner material.
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Mostly cause I'll kill him if he does. [She sounds deathly serious.]
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[Friend. Not partner. Iggy turns twenty-four in a few days and he hasn't ever been in love. He's not sure if that's good or not.]
I believe you, too. But it's fine, really.
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But that's neither here nor there. Right now she's here, kissing Iggy's cheek, then straightening up.] Okay, sugar, you get comfy, I'm gonna watch some trash TV so you can rest and stop worryin' yourself.
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[He rolls his eyes.]
I hurt my butt, I'm not dying of tuberculosis. Come on, let's watch Love Is Blind or something.
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Shut up, what if you don't rest enough and recover and have to go on ass disability? Then how'll you provide for your wife and children, hm?
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YOU are my wife and child!
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I'll provide for you, baby. ...I would, if you ever needed me to.
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I know.
We're a good team.