Now he looked at her, a mixture of pain and rage planting the seed of a wrinkle in his brow. She always seemed so busy, he never considered the fact that she might be filling a space that he had left. Tugging the Great Chain..
“Why do I care?” he repeated in surprise. He honestly didn’t know. By all logical reasoning, his interest in her should have faded with conquest, long ago. And yet, he’d brought her to Rapture with him, for goodness’ sake, against all advice. “Diane, my dear, why shouldn’t I? After all–” he took a step towards her, watching her closely for a reaction. “After all this time?”
He wouldn’t ask who she had been with.
“Come out with me,” he commanded, instead, holding out his arm. “Let’s go out. It’s been– a while.”
Diane’s gaze was the one that turned away now. She wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- look
him in the eye, and so instead she found solace in the floor. His step closer made
her tense. She didn’t move back, her defiance only going so far even when
pushed, but it took her digging her heel into the floor.
“ ... right. Why shouldn’t you?”
Always so vague. He said it as if he’d given her no reason to doubt him lately.
She wanted to take that invitation and shove it up his ass where it belonged.
Tell him that for once she was busy, that she had plans (even though it’d
entail her drinking alone tonight, as per usual.) Make him believe she wasn’t
at the mercy of things being convenient for him. That, maybe even more
dramatically, she’d finally just given up. Not on the road, but at the end of
it.
Oh, but she was a fool. A stupid, stupid little fool.
“Fine. I mean, I -- ... alright.”
But she hesitated. For just a moment, her throat constricted and her body
wouldn’t move because she knew better. Paying her mind out of pity or
disinterested regard or whatever this was wouldn’t change things in the end.
She knew that. Yet she pulled herself out of her trance anyways and took
his arm, withholding a sigh so that in its place a smile could form. It was
a soulless, forced gesture -- small and fragile, but it was better than
nothing. The only thing more pathetic than pretending was sulking about
it. That’s what drinks were for. And she was eager to pretend. She always
was.
“Mm. Thought you were just sayin’ hello, though.”