Tony listened intently, letting her get everything out in the open. He stood when she started back pedaling. “Hey, it’s fine. Really,” he said, hoping he sounded as convincing as he was trying to. “I honestly don’t get society’s obsession with trying to fix people. People that don’t need fixing,” he continued, a slight mix of anger and fatigue washing over his face and body language. He touched her shoulder gently, not knowing what else to do.
“Being yourself, in the long run, matters most. You’re stuck with you… Everyone else can come and go but at the end of the day…” He shrugged.
“Look at us both. Wound up in the way other people see us.” Summer’s laugh was a little broken. She laid her own hand atop Tony’s, squeezing a little.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I really want to stop thinking about all this. Can I drag you out for some food somewhere? Maybe go down the harborside and just walk for a while? We’ve rummaged around in each other’s emotions all unintentionally; maybe we could find out what the other one is like aside from all that.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “That is, if you want to spend time with a shattered character like me.”
Tony’s laugh was dry, and he smiled wryly. “That’s us, I guess.” He thought for a moment, trying to remember when he last ate, and shrugged again agreeably. He’d started drinking on an empty stomach, but he couldn’t remember if he’d actually eaten that day or not. “I could go for something to eat—my treat, of course—and then we’ll see how we feel, okay? As long as you can deal with a sarcastic, self-obsessed character like myself,” he said teasingly, a softer smile finding his features.
“Dear me, however shall I manage?” she snarked right back. “What do you mean ‘your treat of course’?” Her tone went plummy and falsely arrogant as she went on, “I am not accustomed to taking charity from strange men! What kind of woman do you take me for, sir?”