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Mar. 30th, 2022 08:49 pmDani has never been very good at saying no to things. That's been the case ever since she was young, really, not wanting to be burdensome or to take up too much space. Growing up, as her sister's problems got bigger, she — on some barely conscious level — made herself smaller, any problems she had paling in comparison, any needs she had less important. She's aware of that tendency now, and the ramifications it's had on her adult life, but in a distant, hazy way, something part of her is afraid to examine too closely for what she might find if she did. It would call too much into question.
It's easier just not to go there, just like it's easier not to argue when she gets looped into other people's plans. She likes most of the other students in her psych classes, and it's nice to be included — to have people who consider her a friend, even if tangentially so, someone who gets invited on group outings but doesn't really spend time with any of them one-on-one or have deep personal conversations. It suits her just as well. She doesn't like to talk about herself or her life.
Another thing she's not very good at, though, is being social. She can fake it well enough, but it usually amounts to her standing or sitting off to the side, only halfway taking everything in. Such is the case tonight. The others are chatting boisterously, and Dani, meanwhile, sits at the far end of the table they've commandeered, idly twirling the glass of the drink she's barely had any of. It's fine. It's not ideal, but it's fine. She just wishes she'd brought some of her homework to try to get done.
A sudden gust of cool air signals the door to the bar opening. She doesn't think much of it until a few minutes later, when she happens to glance over at the bar and sees Vanya standing there, suit-clad and violin in tow. Excusing herself from the table, though she doesn't think anyone hears her, Dani heads over, angling her way in when there's an opening, smile lopsided and a touch awkward.
"Vanya? Hey," she says, gesturing to the violin. "Did you have a performance?"
It's easier just not to go there, just like it's easier not to argue when she gets looped into other people's plans. She likes most of the other students in her psych classes, and it's nice to be included — to have people who consider her a friend, even if tangentially so, someone who gets invited on group outings but doesn't really spend time with any of them one-on-one or have deep personal conversations. It suits her just as well. She doesn't like to talk about herself or her life.
Another thing she's not very good at, though, is being social. She can fake it well enough, but it usually amounts to her standing or sitting off to the side, only halfway taking everything in. Such is the case tonight. The others are chatting boisterously, and Dani, meanwhile, sits at the far end of the table they've commandeered, idly twirling the glass of the drink she's barely had any of. It's fine. It's not ideal, but it's fine. She just wishes she'd brought some of her homework to try to get done.
A sudden gust of cool air signals the door to the bar opening. She doesn't think much of it until a few minutes later, when she happens to glance over at the bar and sees Vanya standing there, suit-clad and violin in tow. Excusing herself from the table, though she doesn't think anyone hears her, Dani heads over, angling her way in when there's an opening, smile lopsided and a touch awkward.
"Vanya? Hey," she says, gesturing to the violin. "Did you have a performance?"
