Thread: Optic & Drake Who: Aubrey Ryan and Kasey Gibson When: Afternoon, Sunday, February 3 Where: Kasey's room, Xavier's School What: Aubrey and Kasey had their big fight and now it's time for Aubrey to suck it up and apologize. Note: This could potentially be a narrative or very short thread if Lisa doesn't have time to answer. Which is fine. :D
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Aubrey had been working with Artie for the last few days, and while he hadn't made much progress, the practice was what mattered. He was working on learning how to control the volume of his voice so he didn't shout, and while he really hadn't done much in terms of pronunciation the practice was more about opening himself up and making himself willing to speak. Getting rid of some of the discomfort surrounding his own voice.
If Kasey was going to learn his language, then he had to do the same thing. Speaking was almost harder for him than signing was for her, and... he was willing to do this for her. He was willing to push aside his feelings that he didn't want to speak, that he felt it was his cultural imperative to refuse to speak and use only sign. He pushed aside his feelings that this was some kind of a cop-out, that this was some kind of destruction of his Deaf identity. He was stubborn and he knew it. It wasn't fair to Kasey and if she was going to learn new things... he had to, too. He'd spent way too much time refusing to speak over the years, claiming it was a choice about pride... and not about fear. Embarrassment. Self-consciousness.
Taking in a deep breath, he knocked on Kasey's door. No answer at first----as far as he knew, Kasey had called "come in" and he didn't hear it. So, to make it clear it was him, he gave another knock in a pattern that he tended to use----a signal for her to open the door.
When she did open the door, Aubrey lifted a hand to keep her from saying anything. She was angry with him, she was likely to slam the door in his face, but he just couldn't afford her doing that. He'd given her days. Now he had to set things right.
Aubrey's throat was sore from the days of practice, and he was shaking. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep himself from using them. He wouldn't stop signing when he talked, but for this? For this, he just wanted to make a point. Make it clear. And he just... hoped she was able to understand him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry for what I said. It's not fair. You're trying to understand me and you're learning sign... and I act like I don't appreciate it or that you're stupid when you don't get it right away. You're not stupid. You aren't. You're doing this for me and I... if you sign for me then I should be willing to speak for you." He gulped, closing his eyes and trying not to faint. His throat felt swollen, he felt out of breath. His body wasn't used to this, and his emotions were all over the place. When he opened his eyes again, there were tears there, overwhelmed by what it took to do this. It seemed so simple but it was ... far more than just opening his mouth.
"I don't..." He looked away for a second, tugging his hands out of his pockets. He signed while he spoke. "I don't have flowers for you, or... anything. I just have me, and ... this." In twenty-eight years of being alive, he'd never spoken more than two short sentences together. He didn't know if she knew that, he doubted she'd appreciate how significant this was to him, but... maybe that was good. If she knew that, she'd know how much he was willing to risk for her sake, and... well, he wasn't sure he was ready for her to know that.