“No, those are glow worms, the stalagmites are the crystal.” My voice echoes a bit through the cavern as I point upward, towards the grand view of the ceiling. The only other noise is the rushing sound of the waterfall directly ahead, the water reflecting the almost unreal blue-green of the specks of light surrounding on the walls. “The crystal does not glow on its own, or is very magical at all.”
“A'ight, but you just made the crystal seem a lot less cooler.” Demetri replies, his voice carrying the same half-amused tone I've become accustomed to during these type of conversations.
“I think it is plenty cool on its own for how much it has inspired my people and our legends.” I readjust myself a bit, as wings against a blanket on stone flooring is not the most comfortable position. “The elders used to bring the youth here and tell us the story of the gods being born from the terra.”
“Yeah okay, but if that is the case, I'd think it being magical rocks would make more sense.”
“Yes, but they're just stories for kids.”
I glance over to him, noticing even in the dim gentle lighting of the cavern he still retained those shades. It was dark enough as it is, the only light being the burnless flickering embers of my tail and the clusters of glow worms up above. Chuckling lightly, I lift them from the band over his eyes to rest them on the top of his head. He glances up nonchalantly as me invading his personal space is nothing new, just looks to me for some sort of an explanation.
“Really, even in here?” I ask him, sportively. “Did you just forget to take them off, or do your demon eyes really work that well?”
His elbows lift slightly as he shrugs from his spot next to me on the ground. His mouth is upturned in not so much as a smile, as it comes off much more like a lazy smirk. He winks.
“Honestly? I just didn't notice.” He says plainly.
I smile a bit in response, as something from the abyss of human-world colloquialisms part of my mind turns up.
“Its like that phrase, 'seeing things through rose-tinted' glasses.” Coming a bit closer, I prop myself on my stomach, resting my chin my palm as elbows play support. “Except, instead of the optimistic view that 'rose-tinted' means, Deme-shades are more like, 'Seeing the world through-'. Well, what color best defines opportunistic cynicism?”
He snickers. “No, Optimistic cynicism.” He pauses for a moment to think. “And probably purple.”
“I think I got it right the first time.” I reply with a bit of an eye roll. “And purple is a great choice, if that were true. Rose of optimism mixed with the blue of cynicism. You know what this means right?”
“I need to check if Versace makes purple-lensed shades?”
“No.”
“Oh, my bad. You need to check if Versace makes purple-lensed shades.”
“Okay, maybe later but- that is not where I was going with that.”
“A'ight, as you were saying?”
And for a moment, I slump forward, resting my chin on my arms as introspection takes place. 'Where was I going with that?' I ponder to myself, tapping my chin. My mouth seems to work on its own. “Maybe, I just wonder how it is to view things like you do.”
He lifts an eyebrow at that statement. “What do you mean? View things like what?”
Geez, what do I mean? I feel my expression shift as my discomfort settles in. I fidget my way onto my side, facing slightly away. Body language, please stop betraying me. “Just how you view. . .things. People, mostly.” The second part of that statement comes out fairly quiet, which makes it seem more edged.
“What about it?” He replies, the words coming out in such a way that it only seems he a bit less amused than before. Not even half-amused. Quarter-amused, if even that.
A sigh escapes me, and I can feel the mood between us take a shift on more than one circumstance. “Just forget it.” I mumble out, shaking my head. “It is dumb.”
He then sighs, and the pact on the mood shift is doubly sealed with them. “C'moooon. Don't be like that, I wanna hear this.”
No, you don't. Other things will come out and you'll soon find out there is much more to this than you'd like to or care to hear. I hunch over on the floor of the cavern, shaking my head. “Its silly, don't worry about it.”
He scoffs. “Just say it.”
I'd love to keep stalling and brush him off, but I know he won't drop it until something is said, but my mind runs blank for a moment as my mouth takes over once more.
“I wish I could understand how you view things..um, people. Well, because uh- It seems tiring. To keep things like that for so long.” My words come out gentler than I thought possible given the circumstances, but it seems to just play me as it sounds an awful lot like indignant pity. “Don't you get tired of keeping people at this weird...distance?”
Deme sighs once more, sitting up.
“You have that backwards. The other way around is way more tiring for me.” He shrugs again. “ I think we have been through this before, just how it is.”
“. . .Just how you are.”
The words slip out of my mouth and feels like dry smoke. It sounds accusatory. It sounds sad. It sounds defeated. I shake my head, as if to get metaphorical dust off of it. (And possibly the real dust from this cave.) He doesn't seem to take it as much as me, though, if at all. He nods, as if to just confirm an obvious statement, just as it is one.
“Yeah.”
I don't bother looking at him.
The fleeting moments after that play after in silence, as I try to recover aimlessly from what could possibly known as a 'dreaded awkward moment'. I know its all in my head at that moment as every thought that can be over thought and over worked plays in a dreadful and stinging procession.
Okay, now stop. Change the subject like you always do.
I muster a smile.
“So uh-”
My uninspired attempt promptly falls flat, as something urges me to try again.
“Why can't that-”
“I'm not sure what they're expecting. The 'people' who try so hard to change that. The ones that stick around and keep trying and hoping for anything else- the ones who might actually give a damn.” He shakes his head. “ What do they want from me? Nothing is going to change.”
I make the mistake of looking at him directly that time. Even in the dim lighting, I can see him looking through me. It'd be worse if he was actually looking at me. The rushing noise of the waterfall is nearly drowned out by the sudden pangs of emotion that swell in my chest, I can physically feel myself try to harden under the surface. Brush it off, change the subject. Anything.
I've heard this all before. We both know that, and what is really being said. I catch him lowering his shades back to his eyes. Do we both regret continuing that conversation? Maybe I just feel bad enough for the two of us.
“Then I guess it doesn't matter what they want, does it? They'll keep doing what they think is right. What they want.” The words come out stiff and controlled, but honest. My face is warm and my eyes slightly sting.
He scoffs and just shakes his head.
“I don't know why they would want to keep doing that.”
I pretend I didn't hear.
I'm the first to get up, again thankful for the dark of the cave. I clear my throat quietly. I can feel the hardening under my skin again. The sound of water comes back to being immediately audible.
“Let's head back now.” Great acting. Now, seal it with a smile.
He's to his feet now, also ready to go.
“Are we still having lamb?” He asks, already slipped back in to his usual mood, either out of habit or to escape any shadow of a tense atmosphere.
I nod. “Yes, we can take it to go, if you want. Maybe go watch a movie at one our places?”
He offers an arm. “Sounds good, I know where it is.”
And things continue as they will.
Oola Dragon Community Member 
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