Nobody knows the troubles I've seen. [snuggle meme for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heroslayer
Jan. 16th, 2009 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deep_red_bells“The stupid and sad and pathetic thing is, I hate those kinds of people.” Baileigh tucked her legs up to her chest, rested her chin on her knees. “The ones that whine about being misunderstood. The ones that whine about feeling sooooo lonely. I mean, my God. Get over yourself and stop whining. But here I am. Sitting here. Whining.”
“You aren‘t whining.”
“You’re sweet.” Baileigh noted the flicker in Sylar’s expression at being called ‘sweet’ and decided not to say it again. “But yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I just…” She breathed out a sigh and tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like I’m two different people. I’m one person when I’m there and a completely different person here. My priorities are different. My focus. My…drive, I guess. There, everyone understands because they live and sleep and breathe it, the work, the calling. Here it’s--I feel…a little alone, sometimes. In Searchlight I’m a Slayer first, and everything else second. I don’t want that. But here, I’m a Slayer last, and I can’t do that, either. I need to find some kind of middle ground. I‘ve just never been good at that. It‘s like I burn too hard, or not at all.” She fell silent for a moment, chewed at her lower lip. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“I’m approachable.” He tossed her own words back to her, words she’d spoken with a lilt of a question in response to the very same remark he’d made to her, his tone perfectly pleasant and perfectly deadpan. It made her laugh softly.
“Or maybe I feel like I put everyone else through enough, and you’re fair game at the moment,” she quipped, relaxing her defensive posture enough to lean over and hug him quickly. “Thanks for listening to me whine.”
“Anytime.” He still stiffened a bit at being embraced, but graduated from patting her shoulder to patting her hair, which she assumed was progress of a sort.
“You aren‘t whining.”
“You’re sweet.” Baileigh noted the flicker in Sylar’s expression at being called ‘sweet’ and decided not to say it again. “But yeah, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I just…” She breathed out a sigh and tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. “I feel like I’m two different people. I’m one person when I’m there and a completely different person here. My priorities are different. My focus. My…drive, I guess. There, everyone understands because they live and sleep and breathe it, the work, the calling. Here it’s--I feel…a little alone, sometimes. In Searchlight I’m a Slayer first, and everything else second. I don’t want that. But here, I’m a Slayer last, and I can’t do that, either. I need to find some kind of middle ground. I‘ve just never been good at that. It‘s like I burn too hard, or not at all.” She fell silent for a moment, chewed at her lower lip. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“I’m approachable.” He tossed her own words back to her, words she’d spoken with a lilt of a question in response to the very same remark he’d made to her, his tone perfectly pleasant and perfectly deadpan. It made her laugh softly.
“Or maybe I feel like I put everyone else through enough, and you’re fair game at the moment,” she quipped, relaxing her defensive posture enough to lean over and hug him quickly. “Thanks for listening to me whine.”
“Anytime.” He still stiffened a bit at being embraced, but graduated from patting her shoulder to patting her hair, which she assumed was progress of a sort.
