( #001 ) LOVE MARKED

[chatona]

(inspired by this tumblr post. )

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[ex_outofcontrol435]

Siobhan. [Through gritted teeth.] I never knew her last name.

[broil]

And she still left a mark.

[Pretty powerful stuff. Or just was just that weak. He doubts it, though.]

What was her power?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[A mark. What a cute turn of phrase. It makes the bile rise in his throat.]

Empathy. Broadcasting and receiving.

[broil]

Ah.

[He shifts like he understands it a little better. A lot better, actually.]

That makes a lot of sense.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

What, why?

[He narrows his eyes. What does Petre think he knows so well about John?]

[broil]

What else would mess around with your head like that?

[...because there's no such thing as true love. Only the manipulation of chemicals in your brain.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

For fu -

[And he glares away again.]

- if you told me right now, under your total control, that I had to be in love with you, nothing'd show up. It doesn't work that way.

[broil]

Because that's not how my power works.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

It's not how broadcasting works, either. Did you think Ryan's thoughts were yours when you hung out with him? [He rolls his eyes, finally regaining some control and stepping back from anger to dismissal.] Don't be a dumbass.

[broil]

That's now how empathy works, either. [a beat. Petre's pretty confident in his words, so much that it doesn't even sound like he's arguing.] Manipulation of the chemicals in your brain to match hers. That's pretty much it, isn't it?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

So you asked about my mark to try and prove it wrong. [His mouth draws into an unimpressed line.] That's a new level of arrogance, even for you.

[broil]

That's not why I asked.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

What are you doing, then? Obviously trying to prove something.

[broil]

Just making sense of things. It makes sense to me. Didn't it make sense to you?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

It's made sense for a long time. She didn't warp my brain, Petre. She -

[His throat closes off, and he looks away again with a shaky breath.]

[broil]

Maybe not intentionally. [Hm. He finally sits down, seriously thinking about it. This is more like solving a puzzle than necessarily poking at John to see if he'll catch fire.] In any case, you were pretty young.

[Very susceptible.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Don't condescend to me. [His tone turns icy.] Like you know anything about it. There's not a single mark on your arm and there never will be.

[broil]

Exactly. Is there anyone better to look at it from a purely objective perspective?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

You can't be objective about love, jesus. It's not scientific. It's not math. You have to feel something before you can understand it.

[Jabbing a finger in his direction. Unlike you.]

[broil]

Careful, John, you're starting to sound like a romantic.

[A pause. He leans a little further back until he's against the head of the bed.]

But it's cute. Some people would call you lucky to have felt it so young.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[And the anger drops right out again because really? A romantic?]

I never said any of that was good. Fuck, no. Just that you don't get it.

And don't call me cute.

[broil]

[okay, now he's poking.]

Cute.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Go to hell. [He sniffs, grinning just enough to show that it doesn't seriously bother him (yes it does.)]

[broil]

Who called you that?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Huh? [His brow furrows, feeling like Petre's jumped the tracks and he didn't follow.] Called me what?