Welcome to Gaia! ::

"I wish you'd just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me," Worknesh said to her friend Hviske. "After all, I'm sure to find out eventually, and if I find out from someone other than you my feelings will be irreparably hurt. You wouldn't want to be responsible for hurting my feelings irreparably, would you?"

She bumped her black-furred companion with her shoulder and grinned with her most winning and charming grin, hoping that she might somehow loosen her reticent friend's tongue. It had never proven a particularly effective tactic in the past, but that did not necessarily mean that it might not work in the future. Or even in this very instance.

Worknesh had great faith in her charming grin.

This would not be the first time Hviske had found herself on the receiving end of Worknesh's curiosity. As in the past, her friend had plied her with this ridiculous smile she was convinced was winsome and would get her anything she wanted. Hviske was not so easily swayed, however, and she was not certain that she was ready to tell Neshie this sensitive piece of information.

Had she been speaking to her childhood friend Hidaya, that would have been different, but it had been so very long since she and Hidaya had spoken, Hviske wasn't certain that she would feel comfortable telling her this, either. After all, this had to do with matters of the heart, and Hviske guarded hers closely. Well, no, she didn't really, but she was a teenager and she liked to think that she did things like that.

"Oh, come on, Hviske," Worknesh pressed. "I know you want to tell me, and you know you want to tell me, so you should really just quit pretending that you don't want to tell me and tell me."

She said all of this very quickly, as if she was hoping that by speaking quickly and using the same couple of words over and over, she would confuse her friend into agreeing to do as she wanted her to do, which would be to tell her the secret she had been keeping behind those purple eyes of hers.

"Please, Hviske," she begged, throwing things like dignity to the wind, because dignity never convinced anyone to do anything. At least not in Worknesh's experience, although she did not have a great deal of experience in being dignified, or associating with dignified people.

"It's really personal, Neshie," Hviske said finally, her tone making her reluctance to say any more on the subject very plain.

Even though this was a secret she had sworn she would never tell anyone, she couldn't help the thrill of excitement as she spoke even this little bit about it. She also liked the feeling she had just having this secret that Neshie was obviously so very keen to learn. By not sharing it, she felt a little more important, too, which was kind of a nice feeling.

Yes, it would definitely be better to put off telling Neshie anything. Except it was very clear that Neshie was not going to drop the subject until she gave her something more to work with than the fact that it was personal. After all, anyone could have guessed that much, and Neshie was her closest friend.

Worknesh groaned at that tiny, insignificant, and incredibly unhelpful detail.

"Of course it's personal, Hviske," she exclaimed. "There is no way you would be so unwilling to talk about it if it was anything else."

That probably wasn't the best tactic to take here, she reflected after noting how Hviske's eyes narrowed. She had kind of just implied that Hviske would be fast and loose with other people's secrets, just not her own, which wasn't exactly untrue, but wasn't a flattering thing for Worknesh to have said, either.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that it obviously has to be something personal. I promise, no matter how bad it is, I won't tell another soul." And Hviske had to know that was true. Worknesh was actually very good at keeping secrets.

Hviske paused to consider. She hadn't liked Neshie's implication that she couldn't keep other people's secrets, although a moment spent in reflection would have reminded her that, in fact, she was not particularly good at keeping secrets. She didn't like to think of herself that way. Still, she was just self-aware enough to be mollified by Neshie's apology, and she knew she could depend on her friend to keep it secret if she promised to do so.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, you probably won't even know what I'm talking about." That was mostly because Neshie, despite her interest in exploration and new things and information, was not particularly comfortable talking to new people, and really only met people by accident.

"Maybe we could trade. You tell me one of your secrets and I'll tell you mine?" she suggested. It had somehow become a foregone conclusion that she would be telling Neshie her secret. Now she was just bargaining for the information.

Neshie recognized the exact moment Hviske's resolve broke, but she kept her victorious smile to herself, knowing it would just make Hviske clam up. Instead she pretended to consider Hviske's suggestion that she tell her a secret in exchange.

"Come on, Hviske. You know I don't have any good secrets," she stalled, which wasn't quite true. She had plenty of good secrets, but most of them weren't hers to tell, and she couldn't quite bring herself to share them, even with her best friend.

"You know everything there is to know about me," she went on. "Can't you please just put me out of my misery and tell me? Remember my irreparably hurt feelings? Don't you feel even a little bit sorry for me?"

In truth, Hviske didn't feel particularly sorry for Neshie, but she did want to see her friend's face when she told her the secret she'd been keeping for the past several weeks.

"I really don't," she said truthfully. "But I'll tell you anyway, just because I know you won't stop bothering me until I do. You're so obnoxious."

Anyone else might've had hurt feelings, hearing that from their friend, but Neshie had proven surprisingly thick-skinned for someone who did so little interacting with other people. Hviske supposed it might come from her father, who was similarly thick-skinned.

"Okay, so I like Matumaini."

Worknesh almost crowed in triumph when she observed Hviske weakening and she realized that she wouldn't even have to trade anything for this secret. Oh, true, Hviske had just called her obnoxious, but that was a fair assessment. Worknesh had been trying to be obnoxious to get her to tell her secret.

What Hviske didn't realize, or perhaps just hadn't considered, is that by giving in when Worknesh was obnoxious, she was sending the signal that being obnoxious would work again in the future. Worknesh had not overlooked this, and planned to use it to her advantage.

In the meantime, Worknesh was a little confused by the secret itself. The basic gist was simple enough. Hviske had a crush on someone. But it was someone Worknesh had never heard of or met, and so the name meant little to her. Nevertheless, she put on an excited face and demanded Hviske tell her all about him.

Hviske had been prepared for some kind of reaction, but what she got was not it. She had not expected Neshie to blink once and then break into a wide grin and demand to hear all about Matumaini. To her knowledge, the two didn't know each other, or even of each other, so perhaps it wasn't unusual that Neshie would ask to hear about him, but somehow she hadn't expected that.

She also had not expected how much she would enjoy gushing to an attentive audience about the white lion with red spots. Hviske had thought keeping her love a secret was the best feeling, but it turned out that telling Neshie about it was just as good. She talked for quite some time about her crush, and when she finally ran out of words, trailing off vaguely, she was barely aware of Neshie bidding her a smiling "good afternoon."