Nestled underneath a blanket on the couch, Noelle idly stroked the back of her chewtle who rested on her lap with a noisy snore. The quiet of the day felt slightly unsettling, given everything that'd happened within these weeks to months. Settling back into the quiet that was life and trying to adjust back to it was more difficult than she'd anticipated. Especially when plenty of things plagued her mind.

To the...thing that inhabited her body to more personal affairs, she had more than enough to think about. The thought of consulting Lucas about it - or perhaps even Kyle popped into her mind once or twice. But, the pinkette was quick to wave it off. She'd be fine.

The sudden and harsh banging on the door made her visibly jump, accidently throwing her chewtle from off her lap. Was it a robber? More megalopolan invaders? No - what sort of thief or alien invader used the front door and knocked?

Soon enough though, an angered shout followed the frantic knocking, and the woman visibly recoiled. "Why is he here?" It wasn't...as though she wasn't happy to see Mateo. She was. She was glad that he was safe, alive. Glad that he, obviously, hadn't changed. But did she want to see him? That was different.

For a moment, she contemplated several things. She could just ignore him. But, she knew that he would actually break the door down before simply walking away. And she really didn't want to cause any trouble for Lucas. She could also call security, but that would only complicate things. 'Just talk to him,' her thoughts ushered, and she once again cringed at the sound of a fist pounding on the door.

"Ngh!" Her chewtle aggressively huffed, beginning to gnaw on the coffee table's leg. Believing that if she opened the door that the turtle might actually attack Mateo, she was quick to usher it off. "I'm sure anorith is lonely, why don't you go play with it?" With it gone, she sucked in a breath before approaching the door. A hand rested on the knob for several moments before she finally pulled it open.

"...Mateo." There was no smile when she greeted him. No enthusiastic happiness nor her overwhelming warmth she often possessed. Instead, the woman seemed tired, exasperated even. And she seemed to look everywhere else expect towards him, as though he simply weren't there. "Please stop before you break the door." There was a pause. "Why...are you here?"

mateo martinez , i'm calling the police next post

She'd fallen silent, seeming to simply listen to him as green hues finally trace upwards to stare at him. There's no denying that she still feels a certain bitterness towards her longtime friend, perhaps even anger. And its easily seen in the displeasured frown on her face.

Yet, there's no denying that she did miss him. She missed goofing off with him, goading him into stupid situations or ideas, chasing him off with proclamations of love - but, that all seemed so distant now, a past that was lost. Things were...different now, right?

I wish...
She wished things could go back to the way they once were.

His demand was met with a noticeable wince. The last 'talk' they had went incredibly poorly. For a moment, Noelle merely stared at him, trying to decide what it was she wanted to do. "Mateo..." There was another moment of silence before the pink-haired girl let out another sigh. Nothing would change if she just kept on ignoring and running away from the problem. "Don't break anything."

The door opens further as she moves back, inviting him inside the grandiose house and heading towards the living room.

mateo martinez , don't touch shit in this house :huh:

"Why would I-" Her voice starts out in a angered yell, but it quickly softens itself into a quiet mutter, easily lost on ignorant ears. There's something defeated in her tone, something hurt. "Why would I lie about that?" Her hands clench into a fist.

'Don't,' her mind begs her emotions, but its impossible to stop them from overflowing.

Fists lightly tremble, teeth dig into her bottom lip. "Of course I was serious, Mateo."

Once she had started speaking though it became difficult for her to stop, as though the floodgates had been opened or a dam torn down. Similar to him, she was frustrated. Confused. Uncertain of the future. Her will had been worn away, stripped bare and left the woman with nothing but a mind full of emotions she couldn't understand.

"I was serious." She repeats yet again before her expression falls, "And I was...scared. So scared. But you...you just..." Her voice wavers once more, cracking and refusing to fix itself before its lost completely. It's anger that keeps her head raised and her sharp stare fixated onto him. However, its not enough to prevent eyes from becoming glassy in their failing attempt to hold back the sensations that piled within.

"You don't get it. You don't ever get it." Trembling hands lift to her face, either in a frustrated gesture or to conceal and wipe at her eyes. But all it successfully does is make her chest feel painfully tight as her breaths become hitched in her throat. It hurts. Why does it always hurt when he's around?

"I hate you." The words that spit from her lips lack any real hostility. They merely sound defeated and frail, perhaps even weak. She finds them much easier to say than trying to understand what it is she wants to say. She's tired of thinking, of trying to understand. This is so much...easier. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."


mateo martinez , she's not kidding. leave.

Hands were pried away from her face and held within the warmth of larger ones, revealing that, despite her callous words, tears streaked down her face.

She wanted to feel anger but it'd died as quickly as it had lived. It'd been culled by the strong beat of his heart upon her palms. She wanted to shout and yell, snarl that he was wrong - demand that he leave. She wanted to stir him into anger and yet another argument. It would've been so much easier than...this. This heart to heart, where everything was laid bare.

"M...Mateo.." Tear-filled eyes widened, shock visible on her face. Most described the feeling of being proposed to as an unforgettable feeling of immense joy, as though everything in the world was made 'right'. But, this felt more like agony.

Had this been months ago, she would've been over the moon. Had this been in the past, she would've answered him with no regrets. But things were...different now. This wasn't the past anymore. She wasn't that same little girl that'd fallen head over heels for the dragon master, who took every chance to declare her unyielding love. It was time she grew up.

The war, the ultra space journey, when Mateo had been in the hospital - perhaps even before then, she'd began to realize and see more about herself, things that she'd never had noticed before. She wasn't...ready for it, ready for him, nor ready for even herself.

"I...can't." It was with those breathless words that she acknowledged the future and finally pried herself from the clutches of the past. But, it hurt. God, it hurt.

She didn't let go of that single hand that clutches at her own though. As though afraid that the moment she let go, it'd be gone forever. She's aware and acknowledges that she loves him. She always has. That's never changed, and she was positive it wouldn't. But she needed to focus on herself for what felt like the first time in years.

A faint tremble had fallen over her form, and she can't stop yet another wave of tears beginning to well. Noelle slowly crouches, dropping to her knees in front of Mateo, hand finally releasing his own in favor of enveloping him within an embrace. It seems so frail though, as though the usually intimate gesture can barely hold itself together. Her forehead touches and rests against his shoulder. "Not right now."

"You've always been someone I wanted to reach. I first fell for you because I admired you, you know?" Her voice was tight with a certain bitter sweetness. "But at some point, I gave up. I thought I could just exist within you and everyone else's shadow, that I could ignore it all." Her head gently shook.

"I love you." She's said these three words to him multiple times in the past before, far too many times. But it was the first time she'd said them in a manner that suggest she's actually seeing him, even if sorrow dripped from them. She wanted - no, needed him to know this, at the very least.

"But there's...things I need to do still."

mateo martinez