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Why did Dawson always have to be so interested in everything.

She looked down at her drink and swirled the liquid within. "Partly the mermaid part. And partly just. There was something about her. She was sweet, and innocent, and loved, and she sees this guy like bam and all she has to do is sing to him, and he's in love. Whatever." She snorted weakly. "Besides, you know how bad my singing voice is." She moved to put her drink down, and in the process leaned towards him as if he was magnetic. "Look around you. Look at all the pink, the pastel, the flowers, the toys, the jewelry. Look in my closet and it's all the same. That's her. People like innocence. They love it. And I'm good at giving people what they want."

Dawson was trying to make her feel better, as he always did. In this case, it just wasn't working. His attempts to make connections between her and Ariel were flimsy, and the solid beams that set them apart in Maebe's mind would not budge. She lifted one side of her lips in a wistful smile, because it was still so sweet of him to always try.

"I'll give you the trident one, but that really doesn't help any. I doubt she'd even know how to work her father's trident, she'd trip and fall on it before she could even get a stab out." Maebe shifted off of where she sat, hopped to him, and made herself comfortable on his lap. There was no hint of sexuality in her seat, she sat side straddle on the lap of the man who always tried to make her see things she couldn't see for herself, and took comfort in his warmth, and affection.

Her head rested against his shoulder, and she settled in to a curl. "It's just not the same." She breathed out, her eyes distant as they stared off at nothing in particular. "But. There you go. My list of two. Hush now, and don't tell a soul."

"What if I just want to be what people want? Is that bad? Is it wrong to just, want to be picked first for once?" She worried at the edge of his shirt collar, her face rumpled with confusion. "I thought it was good, then I thought it was bad, now I don't know what to think. I really just. Don't know what I'm supposed to think, anymore."

Her hand reached up and pressed against his lips. "And before you say there's no wrong answer, let me stop you right there, you adorable Hallmark card of a man. If there's no wrong, then I'm going to get real scared that I can't find the right, either. So let's just pretend, for a minute, that somewhere out there I find what I'm looking for. Let's just pretend."

She agreed with him, so she let his answer sit there in the silence, and she was selfish. Her entire body tingled with warmth when she felt him hold her that tight. Her eyes closed, and she drifted into a lull of pure, sated comfort. She was selfish, because he hugged her for one reason and she enjoyed it for another, but that wasn't stopping her from enjoying it with every fiber of her body and soul.

God, she wanted him to hold her forever.

"Mhm." She mumbled out, burying her face in his chest. "Selfish is okay sometimes. I like selfish. Selfish is good." But there were limits, and she was respecting them. She wasn't going to be selfish enough to give in to that urge that itched at her to kiss his neck. She knew exactly where her limits were, with him, and she sated herself with the very edge of those limits.

"You too, you know." Her voice was still muffled by his body. "Be selfish sometimes."

She took his words at face value and really tried to see things through his eyes. "Maybe." She whispered, tilting her head up just enough to look at the stubble on his chin. "But that's because you think you've got yourself all figured out. So you're stubborn about it. And truth be told, baby, maybe you do. Maybe you already know exactly who you are and what you want. I know sometimes I get worried that you're lying to yourself, but what do I know. I don't know who I am, anymore. I don't have any right to tell someone else they're the same."

She reached up and scratched the scruff of his incoming beard. "I just want you to be happy. It's hard to remember that, sometimes."

Her fingers slowed when she thought about what he'd said. Was it scary for her to think she could be something different? "I'm not scared. I'm relieved that there's even a chance." If she couldn't find a way to be someone completely different from the girl who's first come to Deus, she knew, deep down, she wouldn't survive. She liked to think there was hope for the future, and hope only came with change. The only thing that scared her was failure.

She grinned like a cheshire cat when he craned his chin out for her, and the limits she'd forced upon herself lifted for one very stupid second. She leaned in and kissed the scruff, a messy smooch that lasted only one second, before immediately scratching her kiss away so he wouldn't react. "Almost heaven." She purred out, her lips stretched in a sweet, genuine smile.

Mentioning Dracula was a mistake. Maebe bared her teeth, and tried to lean in to bite him. She never actually made it close enough, mostly because she didn't want to bite, so much as she wanted to put up a fight.

"I vant blood for my birthday," She exaggerated the accent and snapped her teeth. "Giiive me your blooood."