Work Text:
A young employee.
From the future, or so he says.
A wary gaze, a slight fidget in his behaviour and a sureness in his steps as if he already knew how everything should occur.
I could also point out the unruly behaviour, that seemed to steem from a intelligence akin to my own.
Arrogant.
Yes, that employee was quite arrogant. Fitting of the dragon mask, if I had to say.
Neither of us could afford to be leisure, to trust blindly, yet his actions spoke more heavily than he seemed to notice. He was wary of me, but he didn't distrust me.
If anything, his actions were careful enough for one to think they were being saved.
A martyr? It wouldn't the first one I would have encountered in such places, after all, the bureau agents were the most vivid proof of a person's willingness to sacrifice oneself to help another.
And yet... His actions spoke of something deeper. A familiarity that only I didn't know of.
A familiarity that even that disgusting failure called future relished on.
The uncertainty in which he spoke to me, as if fearing any misstep could lead to me lashing out against him or against that anomaly. The shivers that ran through him each time I patted his back, analysing how friendly I behaved, calculating under his mask just how much of it was born from my true feelings, how long it'd take for me to snap.
Just how true I could be with him.
A little dragon who seemed on edge as long as it was me and not him.
Who could be at ease around the inhuman being that called himself me. That mocked every single one of my efforts until now.
You were arrogant.
Ha! I wished to scoff, to deny it, to put an end to that pitiful existence.
To come to see that that was not myself in the end.
But it was too clear.
And I had never been one to play myself, much less one for self pity.
Even then, when it had nothing to do with him, the dragon seemed concerned. If for me or... me, I was unsure. Maybe both, maybe neither. Or maybe it didn't matter at all.
No matter how hard it is to come across, there could exist people like that. Those who care too much, for too many.
He didn't strike me as the type.
Not when his eyes seeped with a desperation unknown even to most of Daydream's employees, and yet...
With so much compassion.
As if torn between his rationality and emotions.
If pushed hard enough, he would cave. I was certain of it.
But I didn't feel like it. I didn't like this idea.
So it never happened.
The consequences didn't matter. How things might turn out, for better or for worse. How I could have survived instead of me, and refuted the ludicrous future in front of my eyes. How I had to accept I'd be nothing but a grimm existence for the next decades.
Coming to terms with it was less of a struggle than I first imagined.
And remembering of a past I'd long since buried felt strangely bitter, a sensation even I thought I had long since forgotten.
But it was not the worst that could happen.
For now, at least, I had something to look forward to, however vague it was.
He had offered me another chance to try and not give up on myself again.