Yes, I Am Crazy, [Nyarai]

[Nyarai Khartuul]

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" he asked him, brushing past his solid form and heading towards the pot. She wondered if women actually found him charming. Was that supposed to be funny? Endearing? What was it? As usual, when it came to him, Nyarai couldn't tell.

Lifting the pot, she carefully poured two cups of tea and looked back at him. He was free to take one of the cups, but she wasn't going to ask him. No, that would be too polite.

Instead, she had a different kind of question for him.

"Why are you in trouble, Brody?"

[Brody Adelard]

People had told him that he talked to much from time to time . . . when he was talking too much. Sometimes they said he talked too little, though-- like at times such as this one when he refused to answer questions.

Slowly, he unfolded his arms, pushed his white sleeves up to his elbows and approached her. "It's best if I don't tell you that," he said sincerely, barely daring to add a hint of humor. "That way if anyone asks you about my trouble, you don't have to lie. You won't know anything about it."

Sure, that was what was best for him, but it was also best for her, he thought, and he did have her well-being in mind. He was a selfish man- he couldn't dare to deny it- but he did think of others, and he did try to help them when he could. In fact, he wouldn't have come here if he didn't truly think someone would bother Nyarai about him. This wasn't a totally useless precaution to him.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

Shaking her head, she folded her arms across her chest again. Defensive. Strong. She was being strong. "Why are you like this?" she asked, watching him closely for a reaction.

The Tea sat where she'd left it. The offer was still in the air.

[Brody Adelard]

"Why do you ask questions I don't understand?" he asked back, raising his brows a little and facing her squarely.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

She wasn't going to break. Not for him. Not because he was stronger than her, and because he was standing so close. Not because he could pick her apart so easily.

"Tell me why you're in trouble."

[Brody Adelard]

"Because I'm an idiot," he answered simply. "Believable, no?"

Taking a step closer, he reached out and grabbed one of the cups of tea.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

She stiffened when he came closer, almost as if she were preparing to take a savage blow from the back of his hand.

Instead, he reached for the tea, picking it up.

The moment she was sure she was in the clear, she rounded on him again. her finger jabbed his chest. Not painfully or with any real force, but powerful enough to drill in the point she wanted to make. "Why is it that when you need to talk, you say three words? Why do you do that?" Her eyes flashed darkness and she met his gaze with renewed vigor.

[Brody Adelard]

Brody looked down at her with an amused sort of smile he might have offered a precocious child. "Sometimes three words are all I require. . . and I may or may not enjoy making you all bothered like this."

Right now he wasn't exactly enjoying it, but he wasn't about to hint at that fact. Brody didn't have bad days. Brody was always happy, always a little silly, and always humored.

"You aren't exactly the queen of detailed answers yourself," he added lightly.

He had definitely noticed that while trying to drag statements out of her repeatedly and getting very little to work with. Treat others as you want to be treated in return-- that was the general rule, yes? Well, if she wasn't going to blab about all of her opinions and secrets, then he certainly wasn't going to, either. Their relationship would just have to be incredibly superficial and comfortable for him, as a result. He could possibly handle the confusion of it. . .

[Nyarai Khartuul]

Hey eyes narrowed until they were angry slits.

"This isn't about me!"

She hated when he did that; when he turned it around on her. She might not have been exactly forthcoming, but this wasn't about her right now. He said he was in trouble. That was a little more pressing than he sudden bouts of paranoia.

Turning away from him, exasperated, she gathered her own cup of tea and went to the other side of the room, away from him. She slid down onto a reed mat and cupped the tea in her hands.

The whole time, she continued to glower at him from behind the fashioned cup of clay.

[Brody Adelard]

Honestly, the glaring didn't take long to make him feel unusually uncomfortable this time around. Brody ignored her for a moment as she crossed the room, but then he turned to face her squarely and let his eyes meet hers. He would have sworn she was glaring through his admittedly thin and fragile soul, and yet he couldn't get himself to look away and ease that pain and feeling of violation. All he could do was grasp at whatever threadbare cloak of nonchalance he still had in his nearly empty behavioral backpack.

"I think," he said as he slowly approached her, "I'm failing to understand what has you all flustered and . . . loud." He smiled. "Don't tell me you're distressed because I'm in some sort of emotional and/or physical danger . . ."

He found it much easier to bear the weight of her dark eyes when he was looking down at her, standing just outside the danger zone that was her arms' reach. It still wasn't easy, though.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

She took shallow sips, watching him closely. When he asked her if she was distressed over his antics, she scoffed. Lowering the cup, she threw back her hair over one shoulder and fixed him with another look. This time though, the scrutiny was weak. It wasn't quite as harsh.

“I'm not!” she insisted, her voice rising a decibel. “And I'm not loud! I am simply telling you that this isn't about me—and that you are being evasive.” She lowered the cup and plucked an errant strand of fabric from her skirt.

There. The truth.

Or at least, the truth she told herself.

[Brody Adelard]

Brody had to try like hell to prevent himself from laughing. He succeeded, but he ended up looking rather smug with the slight grin tugging at his lips.

"You're loud," he insisted gently, knowing it wouldn't please her to have him being so relentless. "Maybe if you were less. . . excitable, I would be more open and honest with you."

Maybe he was just implying that his evasiveness was her fault to bother her.

Maybe he felt like he had to keep bothering her so she'd stay away from questioning him and caring about whatever answers he could provide.

With his smug grin still sitting on his expression, he took a sip from the cup he held.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

She wanted to throw the thread of fabric at him.

Instead, she let it slide away. “I am not excitable!” she insisted, falling into the trap he was springing around her even now. Smoothing the skirt down, she forced her fingers against the fabric, almost kneading it. “I am simply curious.” Her back was straight too, like a rod.

Flicking at some imaginary speck of dust on the skirt, she tilted her neck up slightly, defiant. “In fact, I don't even want to know anymore.”

So he could just not say anything for all she cared—which she didn't.

She didn't.

[Brody Adelard]

She didn't want to know. She didn't care.

Fine.

Brody's expression turned nonchalant as he took a step back and got to sipping on his tea some more. His gaze wandered, traveling over the surface of the far wall and a few objects, tracing each surface as if he was far more interested in the humble space than he really was. One sip, two-- he could have waited around like that until he found the bottom of the cup. Then he could have stood there in silence some more . . . or so it seemed.

[Nyarai Khartuul]

Oh, so he was playing this game.

She could play it too.

Still somewhat occupied with her skirt, she continued to pluck and pull at it. Her clothes were so old now—many had come with her from the Mainland. Escova wasn't much of a place for fabric so clothing tended to be expensive. The clothes she could afford were often raw and coarse. So she stuck with her old garments: faded, fraying objects that wouldn't last much longer.

As she fixed her skirt, she paused from time to time to look at him; to let him know that she was onto him and that she was going to be stubborn.