Ellie took the handcuffs from him, twirling them from a thin finger. "That rookie," she commented absently.
That.
O'Brien's story had always resonated with her in a strange way, and she'd never been able to piece together why. Something about the imagery: one man left behind by the other. Disabled by the other, even, and left to slow the oncoming crowd. It was horrible. It was cinematic. It was hard to even begin to imagine, looking at O'Brien now.
"People apologize for too many things," Ellie told him, blinking. "I'm... Not someone who needs it. I don't need to hear sorry... From anyone."
Not even if they did appear and disappear so quickly -- flitting in and out of life like complicated dreams, figments of the imagination. Eloise thought back to Olivia, who had come back to her only for a day -- then Brennan, who had stayed far longer, but ultimately gone absent in the same way. She didn't fault them for leaving -- or for dying, if they were dead. In the end these things mattered as little or as much as you allowed them to, and she didn't like the hurt that came with sorry.
O'Brien had a lot to say, it seemed.
Ellie listened to him carefully, as if he were explaining something of dire importance.... And maybe he was. It seemed to have affected him wholly -- his interactions with others, his perception of them, of his life. If he was presenting her with this, too, maybe it meant that he wanted her to say something back. Eloise could try. She had no idea how it felt, but she could make valiant attempts.
"I... Think..." She began, after a moment of consideration. "That it's worth... Thinking of your life as something that's happening now, happening..."
How to even say it? "Whether or not things went... Poorly? In the past. You know. You were hurt. Of course... But it's over now, and... People might keep it in their heads, might not forget.... But that doesn't mean you can't. Look at things... As new. Act the way you want to be perceived. And let... Luke? George isn't... Isn't so bad. They might... It might be a good thing. She's... Evan's sister, always. But she's her own person, too. Just like... Luke."
The mention of Evan put an odd twist to her smile. For a moment she seemed to falter, drawing a hand to her mouth; but then she was laughing even without meaning to, and not really sure why.
"He... Tried. I tried... But it wasn't. You're silly. Of course... Evan makes mistakes."
It was hard to put together a coherent sentence about the things running through her mind. Eloise trailed off again, sorting through all the dizzy fragments, and finally shook her head. Maybe Evan had favored his opinion of things over others, but that was to be expected. Then again, their views of the world had never been completely complimentary, even if Eloise's was quite accepting of his. A romantic with fucking perfect hair. Maybe she'd wanted to love him more than she really had, in the end -- wanted to love something, if she couldn't love life in the furious, destructive way she'd once had. But what was love, anyway? A collection of synapses. And why was it worth more than something simpler, like a promise of friendship?
"Well. I told him... Anger isn't constructive. Neither is sadness."
Ellie almost left it at that, but she was half-smiling, maybe half-laughing still too. "I don't... Need love. I don't think I want love, either."
She glanced at O'Brien. "Not because it'll... Make me a fucking mess. It's worth feeling something, anything, if you can. No, it's... Too much work. Too much thought. I have... Other things to worry about."