Day 51: Breakfast

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Yuffie Kisaragi, indomitable bouncing ball of sunshine and unfathomable ebullience, was tired. It'd been a long night full of gibberish and getting nowhere fast.

"Can't I—"

Plucky, who had been busily loading a plate full of French toast and bacon, tittered. "I'm afraid not, Hanna, darling. A chat over a nice, hearty breakfast would do you a world of good, don't you think?"

"Aaaaactually—"

"Come on, let's find you a seat. Plenty to choose from this morning!"

For a long moment, Yuffie seriously considered doing something—anything—to act out. Punch her nurse, rub jam in an orderly's face, climb a wall and hang off the ceiling, jump on a table and parody Loveless… A ruckus like that would definitely jolt her back into gear, right? Sedation aside. And it'd turn Plucky's good day right on its head, which was always a bonus worth shooting for.

But, by the time she'd reached a decision—and it was an epic decision, a really awesome one; everybody'd appreciate the genius, she was sure—she was already alone. Her breakfast tray had been set down neatly by the nurse, who had left with an infuriatingly winsome smile.

"Wow," Yuffie muttered. Shaking her head, she picked a chair at random and threw herself into it. She kicked back, one arm slung across her eyes, to wait. For what, she wasn't totally sure. Some moron to decide that she looked like good company? That was how it usually went.

Comments

[highvoltagegirl.livejournal.com]

There Peter went, doing his... thing. His weird overprotective hero thing. People weren't supposed to care like that, and it made Elle frustrated, confused, and inclined to pick at her toast again instead of looking at him, despite having lost all of her appetite for it. "You're not going to, because it's not gonna happen, okay? I'll be fine. I have you, and me, and he's— it's just not going to happen. Got it?"

She never had to deal with someone who cared this much before. Even with her own father, it took getting shot for him to show the least amount of concern. It was kind of nice, she could admit, but more than anything it felt unsettling.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Was she just in denial or something? Peter was tempted to just reach across the table, grab her by the arm, and shake her until she got it through her head that Sylar was here, had killed her before, and might do so again if given the right reasons. But in the end he refrained. It wouldn't make her any more likely to listen to him, and he didn't need to encourage her to get grabby herself, either.

He made a face, giving a small shake of his head to show that he didn't really agree. He could understand her rejecting the idea that she'd been dead and had only now come back, but she was downright stupid if she refused to prepare for it anyway. "You can tell yourself that over and over, but it won't stop Sylar from being here and being dangerous," he said with a frown, tone set and almost sharp.