Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mason was doing his very best not to laugh. But in his defense: it was very funny.

“It’s okay,” he said, giving her a smile that he hoped was kind and not teasing. “I promise, I was way worse when I started. Look at my legs, it’s a miracle I can walk on solid ground, never mind on ice with daggers strapped to my feet.”

“But really,” he said, gently prying her hands loose from his arm (before they could break skin, even through his jacket). “Trust yourself. Breathe. And then stomp, like you’re marching, and you’ll propel yourself forward, no problem.” Carefully, Mason skated a foot or two away from her and turned around to face her, though he kept one hand on the railing to steady himself - he was no expert himself.

“C’mon. Catch up with me.”



Mason winced in sympathy and once again, heroically, did not laugh, even though it was a little funny. But just a little.

“There you go,” Mason said, glancing behind him as he edged backwards along the wall with her. “You’re doing great. Are you okay?” Mason asked with a sympathetic pout. “Falling is the worst but I promise you’ll get better. Just–see, look, that kid’s gotta be, like, six years old and she’s better than both of us put together. If she can figure it out, we can too, right?”



Mason oofed, stumbled, and then they were both a flailing pile of limbs on the ice. He was silent for a moment, disoriented, and then he couldn’t help but laugh. “Dang, if you wanted to get on top of me, you didn’t have to try so hard,” he snickered, then squirmed out from under her, so he could manage to climb back to his feet. He held out his hand for her, a smile still on his face.

“Now we’ve both fallen down, so we are equally terrible at ice skating. Even playing field, yeah?”



“O-oh,” Mason said, blinking rapidly as he tried to process what she said. Tried and failed. “I was–I was kidding, I didn’t–I’m sorry,” Mason rambled, color rushing to his face almost as fast as it had come to hers.

Oh no, he was holding her hand. Should he be holding her hand? Mason dropped her hand. Then felt bad about it, reached for her hand again, stopped himself, ran his hands through his hair and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Did–were you kidding? Joking? Am I–like, I didn’t–I’m–I’m sorry–?”



“I…I…” Mason watched her go, staring blankly after her. He had been kidding! He was joking! And now Halia was…mad…at him? Maybe? Or something?

“Hals–” Mason tried to chase after her, forgot he was wearing ice skates on solid ice, and immediately fell back down. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a despondent sigh. “Well. I deserve this, I guess.”



Mason could have stayed there on the ice all day, feeling confused and sorry for himself, were it not for the tiny screaming children that were racing all around him, with knives glued to their shoes. Were it not for that, he would have absolutely sulked the entire time. Until the lights turned off and he became one with the ice.

Alas.

So he had to get up. He had to clamber to his feet and paw pathetically toward the exit of the rink, looking around until he spotted -

“Hals,” Mason said, wobble-walking his way over to her. He collapsed on the bench next to her and grabbed her hands with both of his, halfway to desperate and all the way to frozen and exhausted. “Hals, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, it was inappropriate and–and bad and stupid and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”



Oh god, oh god, he’d made Halia cry. He was the worst person in the world. He was going to magic hell, is what was going to happen.

“It’s clearly not fine! I’m so, so sorry, Hals. I’m so sorry. I didn’t–I just said it without thinking, to be silly, and I didn’t–I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry. We can still–have a good time, right? We’re not like–god, do you hate me? Like, forever?”



“How you…felt?” Mason echoed, feeling stupid and slightly dizzy, but maybe that was just a latent concussion from all the falling down on all the ice. “What do you…mean?” Mason asked, though he felt like he’d been teetering on the edge of something that he’d just slipped off. What was he doing? What was he saying? What was she saying?

“I–I’m sorry,” Mason said again. “I don’t–I’m not–it–it maybe was obvious but not to me, I’m sorry, could you…help me…understand what’s…happening right now? Because I have–I have no freaking clue what’s going on right now, Hals. Help me.”



“O…h,” Mason said, letting out a breath slowly. “Oh. Okay. Um. Well. Alright then. Um. Thank…you?” Mason swallowed and turned slightly to be sitting next to her, facing out. Thank you was probably the wrong thing to say, but it was - it was a nice thing to tell someone. It was a compliment - it was deeply flattering, if nothing else, and he was nothing if not polite.

But mostly, it was words to fill the silence while his brain tried to reconcile the new world he lived in with the old world he’d gotten used to. He stayed quiet for a few moments, staring into space as he reviewed basically every interaction he and Halia had ever had: how much had been friendship and how much had been ‘more than a friend’?

Mason had never been in this situation before. He’d always been the one with the crush, but he’d never actually told anyone his feelings. His relationship with Khaz - that had been unconventional from the start, and they hadn’t known each other as friends before they started… doing whatever it was they had been doing, before Khaz dumped him (over the phone).

He glanced at Halia out of the corner of his eye. Halia had been - she had been there for everything. Everything. She’d saved him from the Youma that had wanted to eat his face. She’d been nearly the first person he told when he first awoken, and had helped him so much in those early days, probably saving his life multiple times, if not from Youma then from his own idiocy. He would be dead many times over if not for her.

And she liked him. Like-liked him. Him. Him whom she had seen be an absolute moron more times than Mason could ever possibly count. He wanted to ask if she was sure - like, this wasn’t some elaborate prank or gotcha moment - but he could tell from her energy, her expression, and the way she held her body all coiled in on itself like a spring ready to snap, that she was absolutely not pranking him. She liked him. As more than a friend. Halia. Halia who was so beautiful, whose smile changed the whole geography of her face, who was covered in scars and never felt like she was enough and pushed herself way too far and never accepted help even when she needed it. Halia.

She was his best friend.

She was his best friend, aside from his sister. Everything in him resisted the idea of ruining that - he’d really liked Khaz, and dating him (‘dating’, if you could call it that) had ruined absolutely everything. His track record was 0 for 1, and he was pretty sure Halia didn’t have much more experience than he did with the whole dating thing.

Dating.

Could he date Halia? Halia?

Anxiety coiled in his stomach. She was his best friend.

Did she even want to date him? Or did she just…Mason blushed slightly as the thought crossed his mind. Maybe she just wanted to ‘get on top of him’, like he’d said. God, why had he said that? He’d ruined everything. Everything. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

“Um,” Mason said, voice very very quiet as he remembered to blink his dry eyes. “So. Um. What…um,” Mason cleared his throat, shook his head, took a breath, and looked back at her. “What do you…want? To happen next?” Mason asked, as carefully as he could. He opened his mouth to say more, to ramble about how he couldn’t lose her, how she was his best friend, how she would never probably really understand what she meant to him. How he was so stupid, how he hadn’t even noticed that she liked him, and if he could miss that what sort of boyfriend would he be, and anyway he maybe wasn’t ready to be anybody’s boyfriend again after everything with Khaz–

But instead he closed his mouth, firmly. Shut up, Mason.



Mason raised his eyebrows - she hadn't been planning on telling him? She was just going to, what, keep that a secret for ever and ever? That??

Focus, Mason, focus.

“I…you're my best friend, aside from my sister,” he began, “and I'm…nervous…about…losing that. I've never had a best friend except Mads before. I've never had a friend except her before. I don't want to lose that. But…I mean, you're gorgeous, and like…I–I don't know. I've never thought about it.” He paused, winced. “Sorry. I didn't mean that to sound–mean, or whatever. I guess--I'm worried that if it doesn't work out, you'll…you'll do that thing you do sometimes where you just - like, go away and hide from me and then we won't–we won't be friends or anything at all anymore and–and I can't have that happen, Hals. So I don't–I don't know.”

Mason sighed and dropped his head, staring at the floor. “I don't want to ruin our thing. I don't want to break your heart. I don't want to–to accidentally lead you on. I don't want to lose you.” Mason sighed again, sounding plaintive. “I don't know what to do, Hals.”



Mason raised his eyebrows once more, even further. She'd felt that way for that long? He didn't - he almost didn't believe it, except that Hali would never lie to him, especially not about something like this.

“Go for it,” Mason said, as he turned the idea over in his mind. Could he just - pretend that had never happened, if they dated? Just go back to the way things were? He had no idea. Maybe. But he knew he couldn't lose her - he wouldn't. He could not lose her.

…maybe they could try it? Maybe? Mason chewed on the inside of his lip. Maybe…?



“O…kay,” Mason said slowly. “Even if–if it’s just–you can’t be mad at me if I–if I don’t feel the same way? Because it’s not that I don’t–I don’t think you’re amazing and beautiful because you are both of those things, absolutely, it’s just–you’re my friend and it’s–weird to think of you being anything else but–but we can give it a try, I guess. For a couple weeks. See what it’s…like,” he said, tilting his head slightly. He paused, and then a chuckle escaped him, seemingly of its own accord.

“Am I ever gonna have a normal start to a potential romantic relationship, d’you think?”



At this, Mason couldn’t help but grin, a teasing edge apparent once again. “And we both know what your kind of books have to say about it,” he said, bumping her shoulder gently. “But…really. Can we like. Start the two weeks on a day that isn’t today? I was just–messing around with my friend and now it’s–can we–can I have a night or two to like. Adjust? And we can just be friends till then?”



Automatically, Mason put his arm around her shoulders - then froze. “Oh, shoot, is that–is this okay? Or?” Mason pulled his arm slightly back, eyes wide and confused. Everything was different now.

But if Mason was an expert in anything, it was repression: he had given himself a night or two, and he could take it. He would take it. That meant putting this whole thing in a box until…later. Way later, maybe.

“Let’s just–let’s not go back on the ice, I think,” Mason said. “One or both of us are gonna end up with a skate slicing our face off or something, and that’s not ideal. Imagine, instead of getting taken out by a y–” he caught himself, “a bad guy, we’re both knocked out by a fun winter activity.” Mason snorted and shook his head. “We can still have whatever those are, though, if you’re inclined to share,” he added, nodding to the hot chocolates waiting on the bench.