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[ On this, the fated morning, Lune has done the unthinkable and stayed languishing in bed longer than usual, after Sciel’s already up and gone to work. There’s the nagging sense that she too should probably get up and get moving and stay busy, but she’s already been doing that all month and it hasn’t exactly been helping. And the headache is still throbbing at her temples.

So the answer, when it comes, perhaps isn’t what Verso expects: ]

Je crois que j’ai une très mauvaise gueule de bois

[ Oh. It's far from what he expects. He'd thought she might ignore him—he'd been prepared for the possibility—or maybe snap at him, irritated. Or maybe she'd pretend nothing out of the ordinary was happening at all. He definitely didn't think that she'd have gotten drunk last night.

—Lune, inebriated? He can't believe he missed it. ]

Your healing doesn't work on hangovers, huh?

No. Which is tremendously unfair-- why can I mend a spurting artery but not this?

[ Hungover Lune is a miserable creature, but also a little more loose and casual and talkative with it. (Sciel's tolerance is also tremendously unfair--) ]

Hey, we're in the same boat -- I still get hangovers, too.

[ Which is tremendously unfair, also. ]

You went out drinking last night?

Stayed in. But yes. I thought it could be a good distraction

Which worked, but.

[ But now the whole next day is stretching out in front of them, and the clock is still ticking, and the minutes are starting to drag with intolerable slowness. Maybe the girls should’ve called out from their various responsibilities and gone day-drinking today instead. ]

[ He acknowledges, ] But.

[ ...

...

... ]

I've heard I make a pretty good distraction. In school I was voted 'Most Distracting'. [ This is bullshit. ]

What are you going to do, caper for my amusement?

[ A little amused, a little derisive. But it's not 'no'. ]

Like you're not dying to see me do a jig.

[ ... ]

You would have to do it very quietly. A silent jig

NOW you're making it weird.

[ It was a totally normal friendly jig before!! ]

My head is already killing me, Verso, you're allowed to be distracting but you cannot be loud and annoying about it

[ although isn't that him every day, or ]

[ o-ow ]

Want to play Jeu de Dames?

[ ... Oh. What a perfect suggestion, actually. So it seems he is learning how to speak Lune's language, to navigate and wrangle her tetchy moods --

So she relents: ]

I'd like that very much

[

]

Great. I've got a set I can bring over. But you should know I won't go easy on you just because you're hungover.

Good. I wouldn't want it any other way.

[ Caught between the prospect of bed-rotting or going about her day entirely as normal, Lune hadn't liked either option.

But it turns out that having Verso -- gregarious, talkative, distracting Verso -- on her doorstep is an acceptable compromise. She lets him in. They take their seats at two rickety plastic folding chairs at the small dining table, and she nurses some water and a cup of that shitty percolator coffee while he sets up the board. She's in an awful mood, everything considered: the hangover, the Gommage, the horrific awareness in each throb of pain in her skull. But the game is indeed a pleasant distraction: quiet conversation, occasional surprisingly companionable silence, the click-clack of game pieces, the thrill of competition, and her headache starts to ebb.

Eventually, Verso manages to surprise a laugh out of her.

At one point, she considers asking if he minded that they drank and marked the anniversary without him; but she isn't much for checking in on other's feelings, and so she doesn't.

At yet another point, she almost tells him that she appreciates him checking in. That she's grateful.

And she contemplates warning Verso that there's a letter for him stashed at the front desk of the motel, where the clerk will pass it to him if Lune doesn't return to take it back by morning. If she vanishes today.

But everything unsaid gets caught in her throat. She doesn't mention any of it. She takes another sip of her coffee, and moves a game-piece instead. ]

Edited 2026-02-27 04:17 (UTC)

[ The Jeu de Dames set Verso brings turns out to be a beaten-up old Dino Checkers set he got from the thrift store—but it gets the job done just the same. He keeps in mind her parameters (you can be distracting, but not loud and annoying) and speaks in low, quiet tones, even when he's (cheekily) trash-talking her. He wins the first game, having told the truth when he'd sworn not to go easy on her, but after some time and coffee, Lune manages to win just as handily.

The conversation is relatively sparse, but even without words, it's oddly similar to their usual dynamic: setting traps for each other, guarding their vulnerable spots, making intentional sacrifices when the reward is high enough. With these relatively lower stakes, he finds the challenge of it all rather enriching.

When the time for him to leave rolls around, he packs up the Checkers set with some reluctance; he'd been enjoying himself. Bag slung across his shoulder, he spares Lune a lingering glance before reaching out to let his fingertips graze her shoulder. ]

I'll see you tomorrow, [ he says meaningfully.

And when the 3rd comes: ] Pencil me in for a rematch.

Edited 2026-02-28 03:37 (UTC)

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222-1879; gommageiversary day

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montage it's a montage

🎀