He pulled back a little at the flinch, not wanting to scare Calixto. "You can't or won't say fuck, is that it?" He asked, raising his eyebrows and trying rather unsuccessfully to squash a smile, trying not to laugh at the poor Mirro.
Cal pushed Cameron away lightly, not much force behind it. "Stop. Please," he said, not really wanting to answer. Answering would mean he would have to elaborate. He was already not enjoying his current situation, and he didn't want to think about his previous one.
"I– okay. Sorry." He said slowly, not quite understanding where he had gone wrong, but not wanting to hurt Cal. "I didn't mean to drag up old memories or…or whatever. I'm sorry."
(I gtg soon sorry)
(It's fine! :D)
Cal blinked a moment. He wasn't going to keep asking…? Cal looked down at his lap for a moment. "All he ever did was curse at me. I…" he paused for a moment. "Never mind, I shouldn't have said anything."
Cameron looked over at him, and nodded a little. "Oh. I'm sorry." He said softly. "I won't…would you prefer I not curse, then?" He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly, chewing on his lip for a moment.
Cal shook his head. "No. Do whatever you want," he replied with a sigh. He shouldn't control what other people said or did. That would make him just as bad as the people who tortured him and his kind. "I just… can't say it myself," he finished, looking down at his hands. His thumb brushed over the thin cut he gave himself back at the inn. It was healing nicely.
"Oh. Okay." He said slowly, cocking his head faintly and nodding faintly. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what he was even apologizing for. He just was apologizing.
That made Cal look up again. "What is it with you and apologizing? You didn't do anything," he asked. This was a partial lie. Cameron did bring up bad memories, but that wasn't on purpose. And… there was always that lingering doubt that made him somewhat submissive.
"I– that may be so, yes, but still. I don't know." He let out a faint laugh, running his hands through his hair and then letting out a quiet sigh.
Rather than talk about this any longer, Cal decided to change the subject. "I was right… You uh, look better with blonde hair," he said, hopefully not coming off as a flirtatious comment. He really didn't want Cameron to believe that as he wasn't attracted to him. Well, not in that way. There was that special and strange way of his that was almost growing on him. Both a bit bossy and submissive. Apologetic and worried…? Whether it was fake or not… the interest was there.
(bossy and submissive i–)
(Cameron is a power bottom lmaooo)
Cameron grinned a little bit. "Thanks." He replied, ruffling a hand through his hair. The spear seemed even darker against his pale skin, and he offered up a smile to Calixto. "I wish I didn't have to dye it."
(OK LOOK IM KINDA TIRED RN SHSHHS)
(He's like: he's bossing me around to stay still but also like: do you need anything, are you sure, what can i get you? and is very confused XD)
(Cal would most likely be a top if that's what you're meaning. Once they really hit it off I mean lololol)
It was strange how soft it looked considering that Cameron had dyed it several times over. He had heard that doing that dried out both the hair and scalp. "Does it not become tedious to do so every day?" he asked, genuinely a bit curious.
(lmaoo)
(Hjshfhd he's just being a good host okay? He's a good boy)
(Lmao yeah)
"It does, but…" He thought about it for a minute. "I'd rather be safe and alive, you know? I can sacrifice my comfort for the chance to live. Sure, I could go out in a blaze of glory, but…" But he had seen so many Berserkers go out like that. Go down fighting, tearing apart their enemies until the Berserker had been torn into so many pieces themselves that they could no longer move, much less fight. And Cameron…after seeing Roshan go out like that, going down in a desperate, doomed fight…Cameron didn't have any hunger for that kind of end. Not anymore.
(Cal doesn't understand though because he's never met a good boi)
Cal looked down at his feet a moment. He supposed he did the exact same thing that Cameron had done to him a moment ago. Brought up bad memories. "Yeah. I don't have to know you to say I'd prefer if you didn't die," he said, not bothering to look up. He remembered how much blood there always was. That metallic taste in his mouth on occasion mixed with the smell of smoke in the air…
(Cameron is the literal embodiment of a golden retriever I stg)
His mouth twitched up in a faint smile. "Yeah. Thanks." He replied with a chuckle. He sat down on his chair, running his hands through his hair again and looking over at Cal. "You alright?"
(he is lmao)
"If I don't get scolded for moving anymore, yeah," he joked lightly, a dry chuckle following as he looked up. He decided to try and make the conversation lighter as it seemed they both had a lot of bad memories popping up. It didn't matter who's was worse. Both experiences were just as real.
"I'll try?" He replied, shrugging vaguely. "My apologies." He smiled softly at Calixto, leaning back against the seat.
The smile left his face as soon as the other male apologized. "I was trying to make a joke, not make you feel sorry," he explained, sounding a bit annoyed. "I'm not good at this, okay?"
He nodded a little. "Oh. Right. Uhm…" He replied, ducking his head for a moment. "Sorry?" He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head a little bit.
Cal leaned his head back and mentally groaned. "An apology can't be accepted if still no need for one, Cameron," he replied. It was funny. He refused to be apologised to by the very kind that held him captive. His fantasies imagined that horrible man who owned him, on his knees, ugly sobs coming from his throat. Perhaps screams as Cal took the cigarettes away and put them out over his skin- no. He couldn't turn himself that way. It was why people were afraid of them to begin with.
But now? When one of them was apologising for every little thing? It seemed far from satisfying. That was probably partially due to the fact that Cameron was in a similar boat. His own kind hated him as well.
"Sor–" he broke off, letting out a loud sigh. "Ugh. This is…I don't know what to do right now." He rubbed his tattoo with one finger in an almost absent manner, shaking his head a little bit. He had no idea why he kept apologizing so much, but he couldn't stop himself from doing so. It was just…instinct.
(blep)
“You needn’t do anything,” he hummed a moment before glancing back at Cameron. “I find it strange that you seem to be stressing out over things more than I’ve seen others do,” he noted, a small tilt of his head. He kept rephrasing this, but he really didn’t understand Cameron being so kind. Or this concerned over such an injury. Sure, it was large and had been painful, but the bleeding was gone. “Is an injury supposed to be constantly nursed even after the bleeding is stopped?” the Mirro asked innocently. It had never been done before, so the ever present worry was quite strange.
"Well– I guess I'm just special." he replied, laughing faintly. At the question about the wound, he frowned a little bit and leaned forward. "Yeah? It's a bad one, it needs to be watched to make sure it doesn't get infected and to make sure you don't pop your stitches or something like that."
Cal frowned, staring at his chest again. If only he had known that sooner, he would have been able to understand Cameron’s doting behavior more. That and probably prevent a lot of his previous scars. “Mmm, that makes more sense now,” Cal hummed, looking back up at the other. He looked confused when he saw a concerned look on Cameron’s face again.