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[abrightboy]

 This is Bright. Leave a message.

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[conning]

Neal feels a giddy little tangle of fear and happiness. Inhales slowly. Exhales slower. Manages a shaky smile.

"I love you too." It's just as quiet.

[abrightboy]

“I wanted to tell you,” Malcolm says, “but it didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem fair to put that on you. To make you feel like you had to reciprocate.”

[conning]

Neal presses a hand against Malcolm's cheek. "Stop being so fair to everyone but yourself."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm presses his lips together.

"I also didn't want you to love me if it was because you felt like you had to," he admits uncomfortably. He looks up at Neal. "Because it means everything to me. Your love."

[bossyboiler]

"Winter has trigger words. I don't know what they are. He doesn't know what they are."

[conning]

How is it that Malcolm can slip so neatly between the gaps in Neal’s emotional armor? That isn’t fair.

“Let’s go back to your place,” he says softly. “And I’m going to hope really hard all the way there that no one else has come home in the interim.”

The kiss that follows hopefully illustrates Neal’s plans for the immediate future.

[abrightboy]

It’s so thorough that Malcolm gasps softly in its wake and almost drops his coffee, fumbling to keep a grip on it.

“Meredith works late every day and Tim doesn’t come home half the time,” he reports almost dreamily. “Can you stay tonight?” he asks as they start walking.

[oldbookshop]

Then Gil is very sensible, and I'm glad that you already had him to say as much.

[abrightboy]

He’s the most sensible person I’ve ever known. Thank you. For following up. And caring.

[abrightboy]

“How do you know he has them, then?” Malcolm asks carefully.

[bossyboiler]

"Because he asked Yelena if she knew what they were."

[conning]

"Yes."

He should tell his roommates. Granted, it's not like they report to each other by requirement, but ever since Abby and Thackery...

Neal shakes his head to shed the thought of them. Or try to anyway. The guilt of having forgotten they were ever there.

He shivers. "I'm not a fan of memory loss."

[abrightboy]

"Our memories add up to make us who we are," Malcolm points out softly. "Stealing memories is a theft of our selves," he muses. He's thought about it a lot. "It's the ultimate violation."

[abrightboy]

"And she didn't," he concludes. The reason Kate doesn't know. "How did you use that knowledge to feed the Entity?"

[bossyboiler]

She shakes her head a little. "I'm not quite sure but it's a secret. And from what research that I've done, the Eye likes dangerous secrets."

action » Well Read TDM prompt

[welladjustedwhitly]

Ainsley did not sign up for a library card prior to the book fair. Ainsley has never read a Philip K. Dick book in her life. But someone probably has, and Ainsley has an inkling that someone is her brother. He has weird interests. PKD is weird, which is basically the extent of her knowledge of the author.

So here comes a sister, approaching her brother's desk and shoving a list of books at him. "What is this? Everyone has this on their list." she points out the one she means. "Have you read it? Like– in normal life, not...weird fake library list life."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm hasn't gone to the book fair or the library. He's currently building a structure out of paper cups and pencils on his desk, but he looks up when she starts talking, taking the list and looking it over.

"Eye in the Sky? Ages ago. It's about people walking in each other's subconsciouses." He pauses. "Which is uncomfortably like what's happened here a couple of times." He offers her the list back. "How do you know everyone has it on their list?" he asks, half distracted by trying to get one pencil to balance on another that's sticking out of a cup.

[abrightboy]

"Then doesn't that mean the sensible way to avoid feeding the Eye is not to have secrets, dangerous or otherwise?" Malcolm asks logically.

[welladjustedwhitly]

“Wha- Malcolm, seriously?” She gestures at his paper cup and pencil house, half-amused, half-exasperated. She scrambles to grab a seat to pull up next to him. “I knew you would have read it, nerd.” She pauses as the words he said actually sink in, nose scrunching up in distaste at the top familiar note of the idea. “Okay, that’s creepy.”

She tucks her hair behind her ears. “Okay! Maybe not everyone, but I was at the book fair and I heard people talking. And everyone that mentioned it is like- you know, one of us. Displaced or- off-world or—“ she waves a hand dismissively. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, isn’t that totally weird? Come on, Malcolm, when is the last time I read something like this? And why is it on a list of items I’ve checked out, with a library card that was already on file that I never signed up for?” She spreads her hands on a wide flourish like all of this proves whatever convoluted point she was trying to make.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shrugs.

"Because this place is weird and weird things happen and if they're not killing anyone, I'm not sure they're that big of a deal," he looks up from his pencil cup house to point out.

[welladjustedwhitly]

"OR–" she holds a finger up at him, "it's a clue to something that's coming that might try to kill us all. So."

She flops back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest and lightly kicks his chair with a foot. "You're clearly bored, why are you shooting down the possible mystery, here?" Stop ruining her fun, Malcolm.

[abrightboy]

"Because this is what they do, Ains. The Entities start things to get us wound up. They mess with our heads because they feed off our fear. This is Entity fear-mongering nonsense, is what it is," Malcolm tells her.

[welladjustedwhitly]

"I'm not scared," she rolls her eyes, "I just wanna know why. So they're not doing their job right." Which is totally the sort of thing to put out into a universe that basically feeds on screwing with you, probably.

[abrightboy]

"You're not scared yet," Malcolm corrects her. "But you've barely begun to dig." He looks up at her. "Don't let it get inside your head, okay?"

[welladjustedwhitly]

She levels him with a look that is so Jessica it hurts. "Please. I'm not going to let a little psychological fuckery keep me from the truth." It's mostly a joke.

Mostly.