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She hears the footsteps for a long time before they reach the door- a steady procession of clicks on reverberated metal, through thin walls. The noise sends a little prick of panic down to her heart, though she promptly discards that, shuffling further down into the down spread as if it might belay the inevitability of a conversation. It's been three nights of hiding out on a precursor of ambiguous illness and slinking to the “feed chamber” on socked feet, so not incredibly different from a life she was once intimately accustomed to- ended with resountion on the coming eve. To be candid, she feels entitled to a short span of listless moping in an unlit, windowless room to ponder the inevitability of parental collapse at the hands of a mindless figurehead, just another unit of the game acting in the stead of “destiny” and “plotted growth”, playing out in perpetuity. A flash of red and darkening rain, gripping just tighter.
A firm knock sounds on the hollow metal of the door, interrupting her perfectly conscionable train of thought, shocking her back into the real- her unwashed state, the opened packet of saltines leaking onto the bed, the gradual accumulations of laundry on the floor… It is so irritating to be caught, interrupted. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t stop whenever she wanted to, as if it wasn't simply a matter of appropriate reaction theatrics.
KANAYA: Rose Are You There And Can I Come In
KANAYA: Rose
She is silent a beat too long, attempting to straighten out her condition into something a little more presentable, raking her fingers through her hair, agonizing over letting her bear witness to whatever this is- as if its never been worse-
ROSE: …Yes?
Her voice is strained from disuse as it is disgorged from her sorry throat, a too-late reply, and she guesses Kanaya takes it as a “yes” to her question because suddenly the door is sliding open, bathing the room in blinding light so bright for a few moments everything is white and she cannot see, though she quickly adjusts.
Kanaya hovers at the door with a quizzical arch expression, holding some strange container which is shaped like a bug and actively steaming. She attempts to temper the brightness of her dermal bioluminescence, though Rose knows she is still not adept at it as she would prefer. It's so dark in the room that fuzzy black swims outside her immediate purview.
ROSE: I’m fine, Kanaya. I was simply… sleeping.
KANAYA: Yes I Almost Definitely Believe That Strange Statement With An Inconspicuous Lead Off
KANAYA: I Did Not Ask If You Were Fine Which Makes Me Think That Maybe You Are Not
ROSE: …What do you want?
KANAYA: Obviously To Berate You Inopportunely At Inopportune Moments Of Slumber
KANAYA: I Thought Midday Was Typically An Active Period For The Human Species But It Seems I’ve Been Deliberately Mislead At Some Point
KANAYA: Where Have You Been Rose
The last sentence drops all pretense of joking snark, and Rose feels the intended sting of that directed jab despite every justification she had built up. Maybe she wasn’t obligated to update her constantly, but maybe it would have been a kind thing to do anyway.
ROSE: Stricken with an illness of incapacitation, so it happens.
She props herself into a slightly more dignified position upright atop her verifiable pile of pillows, and Kanaya strides closer to the bed, and begins to hover again, in her new and closer position.
ROSE: Who was your informant of my condition?
KANAYA: Nobody
KANAYA: Your Brother Is Bemoaning His Afflictions In The Common Room So I Had To Inference Optimistically That Something Had Overtaken Both Of You
It wasn’t like she had instructed him to fake a mutually transmissible disease on her behalf. The fucker had simply sensed the rare opportunity to meddle in her affairs instead of be meddled with, and had jumped on it.
ROSE: Oh, god.
ROSE: I am very sorry Kanaya.
KANAYA: Right
KANAYA: Well
KANAYA: Please Do Tell Me Next Time
ROSE: Sure.
Rose says it even with the lingering cloud of doubt that gives her words an unintended bite. Tell her what? It wasn’t as if Rose had escaped to anywhere peculiar or behaved in any way out of the ordinary. A few days of limited interaction wasn’t exactly something to take note of, not for any of them. Kanaya gestures to the bed.
KANAYA: May I Sit?
ROSE: I would worry for the sterility of your fine clothes.
Kanaya sits anyway.
KANAYA: The Assumption That My Assortment Of Fine Wear Is Not Considerable Enough To Account For Some Sullying Is Frankly Pretty Unreasonable
ROSE: I would argue that your fascinating compulsion to care for others at the expense of yourself is the more unreasonable thing here.
Kanaya blinks.
KANAYA: What Makes You Think I’m Doing That
Rose feigns a hacking cough beneath her quilt before responding, her voice feverish and far away. Partly because she doesn't have a reasonable justification for bringing that up apropos of nothing- just feelings of discomfort about a hunch she had been sitting on.
ROSE: I shan't even dignify that with a response.
Rose can feel Kanaya's discerning eyes roving over the space, beautiful and wide and etched in worry, barely restraining the impulse to tidy the worst of it, at the very least. She seems to note the laptop toppled on its side buried half in blankets, half the screen covered in sticky notes- some sticky drink drying on the keys; A dogeared book crammed in the space between the mattress and the wall, its cover art graciously conserved (a horrendous example of the romance genre, only borrowed for cultural interests sake), half scribbled upon paper monopolizing bedside table space, failed alchemiter attempts dispelled about the floor from a sylladex accident. She looks to be sizing up an appropriate place to set down the food-product brought in with her, and to her enormous credit, still finding none.
KANAYA: You Do Know That You Can Talk To Me Right
ROSE: I beg your pardon?
KANAYA: About The Things That Are Of Trouble To You
ROSE: Kanaya I… should recover from this mild illness shortly.
KANAYA: If You Are Really Sick Then You Should Eat Something
Rose's attention is drawn to the indiscreet container resting on Kanaya’s lap, practically radiating heat, which means either it is nuclear hot or sure to be cold in short time. Despite herself, her curiosity and hunger is piqued.
ROSE: And that is…?
KANAYA: I Thought You Might Appreciate Another Cross Cultural Exchange
The tupperware-like container has (plastic?) insectile legs sticking down from the lid that pop loudly with a suction-like noise as Kanaya undoes them in rapid succession. A mouthwateringly tantalizing scent emerges with the heat and steam, a sort of spiced-savory-sweet aroma.
KANAYA: This Is A Favored Meal Among Many Incapacitated Children
It appears to be some sort of oven roasted roll cut into portions, wrapped in dark leaves and slathered in a red sauce. Its inner contents, ingredients, and intended flavor profile are not discernable to Rose immediately- still, appetizing. It’s such a kind gesture, one expected from a person like Kanaya, sure- to know with trust and certainty she is thought of and cared for. Rose wishes she could appreciate the act of it in full, that her stomach didn’t twist and sour with a sardonic twinge- wishes she was capable of accepting it without attempting to discern the true hidden ulterior motive- knowing the impulse to be petty and repeatedly proven false and yet struggling to dislodge it. In lieu of saying any of that, she shrugs her arms weakly.
ROSE: Unless you’ve brought utensils with you I am clearly too incapacitated to eat it.
KANAYA: It Is Typically Eaten With The Hands
KANAYA: Would You Rather I Feed It To You
The way she says that- so clinically, as if it might just be expected of her. Blush rises up her neck in a way she knows the ultra-fine senses of a rainbow-drinker might be liable to gauge, even in the low light and surrounded by the smell of live-in grime.
ROSE: That almost strikes me as freudian.
KANAYA: So I See Taking Amateur Psychoanalytic Jabs At Me Now Takes Precedence Over Informing Me Of Your Various Afflictions Then
ROSE: I promise you that my findings have only been incredibly useful and scientific.
KANAYA: If Perhaps Not In Accordance With The Psychologists Board Of Ethics
KANAYA: What Is Your Prognosis Then Doctor
ROSE: You’re impossibly funny, Kanaya.
ROSE: It’d take a masters thesis to do my hypotheses any due diligence.
KANAYA: You Must Be Gravely Ill If You Are Truly Unable To Form Genuine Responses To My Each And Every Inquiry
KANAYA: This Is Highly Distressing Rose You Have To Understand
ROSE: As if anything, pathogens or otherwise, could halt me or my rejoinders for even an instant.
KANAYA: I Welcome You To Get Up And Feed Yourself Then
ROSE: I could if I wanted to. I choose not to because I like it just fine here.
KANAYA: You Are Delirious And Should Sit Up To Eat
ROSE: No.
KANAYA: Do Not Be Difficult
ROSE: If I’m so difficult then why are you still trying?
ROSE: It is not your responsibility to care for me. I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself.
KANAYA: You Are Not Exactly Assuaging My Concerns
ROSE: You like difficult things.
A pause.
KANAYA: I do.
Another pause.
KANAYA:. Would You Rather That I Didn't?
ROSE: Not if I thought you were…
Rose's hands search aimlessly in the waning dark above her head.
ROSE: What's the turn of phrase I seek.
ROSE: Placating me?
ROSE: I just want you to be honest with me.
KANAYA: Of Course I Am Being Honest With You
KANAYA: It Is My Sincere Wish To See You Improve And Recover
KANAYA: And To Not Disappear From Our Every Meeting Into This Enormously Plush Pile Of Miscellaneous Items
She's being placated. It must be hard for Kanaya not to acknowledge that this whole exchange is… distinctly paler, than the romantic trajectory they’d been on recently, for god's sake- a pile.
ROSE: …Of course you’re right, Kanaya. I don’t know what I'm saying. I don’t feel well.
KANAYA: Right
Maybe if she batted her eyelashes up at Kanaya now, just conspicuously at the right moment of naked eye-to-eye contact, the troll might become so audaciously frightened that she would retreat in haste like a skittish long-limbed glowing deer into the nearest woodland. But in this state- her charm gambit is enormously lowered by the presence of more than six pieces of garbage. No luck.
KANAYA: So
ROSE: I would not actually object to that proffered method of food delivery, be it in a different context.
ROSE: Would you allow me half an hour to freshen up?
Rose can practically see Kanaya deflate with visible relief. Finally, a concession of betterment on her behalf. This was the only thing she wanted out of this whole confrontation, anyway. Really, it was cruel to have withheld it from her.
KANAYA: Yes
KANAYA: I Could Use The Time Myself To Heat This Back Up To Its Ideal Consumption Temperature
She stares down sadly at the cold, wet container.
KANAYA: It Really Must Be Eaten Immediately
ROSE: Duly noted. Shall we set a time?
KANAYA: Half An Hour From Now Is Amicable To Me
She stands, brushing crumbs from her long red skirt in a fluid gesture. She could be a swan.
KANAYA: You Will Meet Me In The Common Room Then
ROSE: Yes.
KANAYA: Do You Promise
ROSE: Yes!
KANAYA: Then I Will Take My Leave And Expect To See You Then Fully Intact And Clean And In Possession Of Your Wits And Otherwise Mental Capacities
As she backs away towards the door, the dimly ethereal glow she emits fades from view, her face sliding into the obfuscation of shadow.
ROSE: Fully Intact.
Rose repeats wryly. Perhaps not an ideal way to have your day of intended mourning interrupted. Kanaya would have certainly understood had she told her. Then again, there had already been… several, and maybe it was ceasing to be about that anymore, so much as an excuse to mope, which is less of a justifiable reason to abide by. Maybe this is what she would have wanted, anyway. To advance another rung of the ladder up the levels of intimacy with a hauntingly beautiful alien vampire. Write that on the anniversary cards- IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY MOTHER. Suppress an involuntary shudder at that thought, completely untenable.
KANAYA: I Love You
Just as the words leave her mouth, she takes her perfect hand off the threshold of the door. The automatic sensors account for the absence immediately- it slides shut in one decisive moment, clean, easy. It happens so quickly, before Kanaya can completely finish the sentence, before Rose can register the unexpected shock of it- What would she have said back? She hears Kanaya hover a second too long in silence at the door, before turning heel and hastily making her exit down the east hall.
Her body feels strangely warm, the dizzying flurry in her stomach unbelonging to her- appropriate only to saccrince-laden descriptions in a teen-heartthrob magazine, or of seeing alice cullen in twilight for the first time, but worse- Is that what this is? She almost feels sicker than she was pretending to be, though it settles into something more comfortable once it works past the absence in her stomach. Rose is left in nothing but the perfect darkness that rushes to swallow up the room in the absence of light, and the infinite counterbalance of the information and knowledge of the past and present, teeming in hidden corners, bursts of light supplied by nothing but firing neurons in the brain- ringing in her ears- brimming with absence of light and sound.
They have to see each other later.