I should be working on RCC right now

[inventrix]

He kept staring down the street, watching the carts rattle by and the still-few shop fronts, still with that strange thoughtful expression, and she waited, watching him with her nerves on edge, waiting for something to happen, for the explosion that so often happened when he acted differently.

"You built a real city," he repeated softly for the third time, then suddenly his gaze shifted as he looked at her - looked, as though seeing her for the first time, as though he was trying to place who she was. She waited, her words caught in her throat by a fear she couldn't show. He'd always remembered her - remembered his crew, even if he forgot other people or events. What would she do if he forgot her...?

His next words came unexpectedly. "We aren't teenagers anymore," he said, still softly, and finally looked away again, back down the street. "We haven't been for a really long time, have we."

Comments

parallel

[inventrix]

It was all real - new, and real, and it only existed because Cya had wanted it. She had a city, she was mayor of an entire, real, actual city that she willed into existence. It was... strange. Strange, and different, and something in his perspective he had never even noticed felt like it had given way.

"You built a real city," he said half under his breath, half aware of repeating himself, and looked at her. She looked the same - no. Physically, she looked the same, but something was different and he suddenly realized he didn't know when that had changed. When had she... grown up, he thought in something like surprise. She'd grown up, of course she had, they were... they were half a century old.

He looked away again, mulling over this as he took in the (real, actual) city. "We aren't teenagers anymore," he said aloud, more to himself than anything. Fifty years? "We haven't been for a really long time, have we."