Disclaimer: I own nothing.
By Miranda Panda-chan
What did she know about love? She'd brooded over the question for at least two days now, having avoided reconciliation with Beast Boy, despite the many attempts by Robin and Starfire. Cyborg, thankfully, had stayed out of it.
She was now sitting on the roof, trying to meditate for the bizillionth time that week, because really, no one seemed to know just quite when to stop bugging her. And so, now she alone, trying to partake of the peace that comes with the setting of the sun and the darkness that will soon follow.
Alas, the Fates decide otherwise as the door to the roof opens behind her and she is thrown forcefully out of her own peace of mind.
Crap. Not him. Anyone, but him.
She chooses not to answer, he won't know the difference between trying to meditate and actually succeeding, will he? She's still floating two feet or so above the ground on the edge of the roof. All she has to do is chant to make it believable. Right?
Because she can't, she completely and totally loses concentration which leads to her ungraceful act of falling on her bottom yet again, only this time on a much harder surface. She cringes indefinitely as she sits herself back up, content with just sitting and swinging her legs over the edge.
"So…uh…whatcha doin' up here? Isn't it a bit cold?" he asks, eyeing her unclothed legs. She ignores his, almost prude, stare.
"No, not if you know how to ignore it."
"If it's anything like ignoring me you should be feeling toasty warm." There is silence, in which he knows that he's just made the corniest joke ever, and she is ignoring him to save him the embarrassment of having her admit to have actually heard a word he's just said. He sighed, mimicking her pose on her left—perhaps trying to find his own solace, she thinks, but she doubts it.
"Why did you come up here, Beast Boy?" she asks, unnerved by the silence. He looks sheepish, guilty almost, at having been caught. He ducks his head down, not meeting her eye.
"I…can't I just be up here to enjoy your company."
"No." Shot down, again. He sighed, leaning back on his hands that are braced slightly behind him so he can just barely lean back to stare at the clear darkening sky above.
"I wanted to apologize…again. That's, like, twice this week—which makes me feel like a horrible person," he pauses as if waiting for commentary, but she says nothing, so he continues, "I shouldn't have let lose on your like that. I was angry, and it was stupid and childish," another pause, this time he stares at her, but she stares only straight ahead where the sun has just disappeared under the tall buildings, "I wasn't told to come up here by Robin, either." Defensive because he knows what she's thinking, the words aren't his, apologies just aren't his thing. Never were, never have been. Clowns do not apologize. But he isn't a clown, she thinks, he's nothing but a changeling with a well-crafted façade. And with that she finally answers.
"I shouldn't have said anything at all, Beast Boy. You're right, I don't know anything about it," She finally admits. He stares at her, wide-eyed.
"Wow…I think, was that another apology? That's two from you in a week, this is some kind of new record!" And she ignores him as he begins to rant on and on and on about records and the man who has eaten the most tofu in a half hour.
"Why did you come up here, Beast Boy?" she repeats, because she knows he's stalling. He stops mid-sentence because of her interruption, and she isn't sorry this time. His shoulders sag guiltily and she wonders just what he has done to make him look like a criminal being convicted to death.
"Terra came back." He mumbles.
"Why is this something you feel guilty about telling me?" And she sees the hope hidden deftly behind his eyes that twinkle something other than guilt, but she can't place her finger on the emotion.
"I figured you'd be mad."
"She makes you happy, Beast Boy. You don't need my approval if that's what you're implying." She straightens up, eyes open now, her mouth set in a thin line as she remembers the hurt look on his face when the idiotic girl left in the first place. Far be it for her to take away his only happiness in life. If stupidity mixed with blonde hair and estrogen made his day, so be it.
"So, you aren't mad? Starfire said you probably wouldn't like it that she's back. You didn't exactly like her from the beginning, but y'all are cool now, right?" she doesn't reply, too busy gathering courage—intent on telling him the truth of her epiphany, her musings, her lack of meditation.
"Of course," she says. He grins widely, hugging her before quickly letting go after she tenses under his attack on her control of her emotions. He mutters an apology before standing up and rushing off. Her approval given, even though she's not quite sure why he'd need it in the first place, no one can stop who they fall in love with.
She sighs, getting up and dusting herself off, the night sky having lost its calming effect after being disrupted by a certain changeling.
She finally places the emotion, but not really. She knows now, what it was. He wanted her to tell him that Terra wasn't good for him, she knew how the scenario would play out in his head. He'd ask why, and she profess her undying love for him.
Not going to happen. Because she doubts she'd make him that happy.
Oh well, she thinks, he's happy. If he's happy, she can be, too. Because his happiness is her happiness, and she'll be content to stay and watch in the sidelines to see how this plays out exactly.
Because if Terra ever makes the same mistake, she swears she'll dismember her and burn the body herself.
I'm happy for him, and he's happy; therefore; I can deal with it.
And for once, she isn't lying to herself.