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Date Posted: 15:55:58 01/02/02 Wed
Author: Tristan
Subject: Excuse me?
In reply to: Laurel 's message, "You found me!" on 13:03:30 01/02/02 Wed

The smile Marz gave Tristan as they left the cave for the second time that morning was sweet, though not particularly encouraging. His expression was still somewhat wan, leaving Tristan to believe his words had mostly fallen on deaf ears. Not that Marz thought he was lying, but it looked at least as though getting over his shame at showing tears would be no easy matter.

Tristan felt slightly depressed that he had failed so miserably at cheering his lover up, but he figured he’d tried his best. Not too many people knew about the heavy weight of insecurity handed down from his past that now settled so heavily on Marz’s shoulders. Most saw him as a happy-go-lucky smart ass kid who always knew what he wanted and made damn sure he got it, too. People like Corum admired him for his boldness and ability to take over a situation. Only Erlic shared Tristan’s private knowledge concerning who and what Marz really was. He figured that once a person learned to know Marz, to really know him, they couldn’t help learning to love him, as well. At least that was how things had happened with him.

He turned to give Marz a funny look when he told him not to give his mirror away. Actually, he didn’t so much as tell him and command him not to. Tristan raised an eyebrow before shrugging and nodding his agreement. Well, okay, if he felt so damn strongly about it…. It was just a suggestion, he thought, fingering the mirror in his pocket. He hadn’t even thought of the silly thing since they’d bought them—or no, wait a second, since Marz had bought them. Tristan snorted to himself but decided not to say anything.

He listened to Marz berating Corum for losing his magical cloak after ordering him to give the other mirror back. Personally, he thought Marz was being a little harsh on his friend, but he wasn’t about to pull him aside and tell him that. No point in pissing him off or anything, especially when he’d just tried his damnedest to cheer him up a minute a go. Corum probably deserved it, anyway.

Suddenly, Marz spun around without warning and poked a finger into Tristan’s chest. “That's mine!” he said, his eyes narrowing somewhat greedily. “Stop stealing my clothes. Wear your own drab shit from now on, Tris!”

Tristan was speechless, to say the least. Okay, so he didn’t mind Marz ordering him around a bit, but when he moved to insulting his choice of clothes, that was getting downright nasty. Just who the hell did he think he was, anyway? Besides, if he had such a problem with Tristan wearing his clothes, why’d he pack only that to begin with?

“I wasn’t aware it was such a crime for us to share,” he said testily, shooting Marz a glare after he announced that it was almost time to go. “And if you have that big a problem with my wardrobe color, you should have bought me something different!”

Marz had better be up to explaining his behavior, that’s all Tristan had to say. It was cool for him to go around bossing and insulting Corum, but that just wasn’t gonna fly with Tristan. Well, all right, so he might be willing to admit that Marz ordering him around was a bit of a turn on at times—wait a second, who was he kidding? Who would he admit that to, anyway?—but when he started to insinuate that Tristan didn’t know how to dress, things were going a bit too far.

Eventually, it occurred to him that he had just spoken to Marz in a somewhat loud voice, and that most everybody who was nearby had likely heard. Uh oh…what if they had another argument, this time right in front of everybody? He felt his face turn a bit pink, and he turned slightly away, hoping he hadn’t riled Marz up anyway. The look in those piercing black eyes wasn’t too encouraging though. He’d have a snide comment coming his way, at least.

“Um, how’s your headache, by the way?” he asked meekly, trying to meet his gaze. “Did the medicine work out okay? If it still hurts, maybe I could….” Oh sure, a nice head and neck massage show for all to see. Yeah, how about not. “I could get you some…stronger medicine.”

He winced, not at all happy with the prospect of bugging Jeremy for stronger drugs, but at the same time, not wanting to get Marz upset. Maybe next time he’d just keep his big mouth shut.

He still didn’t like that comment about the shirt, though.

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