Redhawk Caldera If she gives you her heart don't you break it

It would've taken a serious amount of confident 'no' to convince Eljay that she wasn't sad, and she wasn't really succeeding. That was okay; he would rather know that she was sad than have her hide it away, anyway. The worried frown remained on his face as she told him not to apologise and explained she should've maybe asked how things were. She then apologised herself — Eljay repressed the urge to tell her not to apologise, either — and Eljay wasn't really sure what to do.

He just wanted what was best for her, but also what was best for him. He realised that he had all this time been hoping that those two things would magically overlap. Maia had said she liked the Caldera, so he had hoped that she'd come around and decide to move here. Now, though, it was abundantly clear that he'd been living in a dream land.

No, just — It's... It's a lot, and I... I get that you — I mean, I want the same, except with his own home, I do! But it's just... It's a lot. Stuff being bad didn't help. He might've been a bit more eloquent about it if he hadn't been so tired, at least, but it wouldn't have taken away the panic.

Honestly, thinking about how annoyed he had been with Towhee and Niamh, Eljay found himself a little confused why it was still a lot. He wanted to be more appreciated, and she appreciated him. But he couldn't feel like having this responsibility thrust upon his shoulders alone. As if it was his responsibility for them to live together, and Maia didn't like that they didn't yet, and that meant that he should fix it.

Pressure had never done well to Eljay. You... You understand that, don't you? It's not like deciding what to hunt for dinner, it's... A lot. A lot to ask, and he didn't mind that she asked.

But it just didn't feel as though she was asking... It felt as if she was telling.

Maybe not telling him to do it, but she was saying,

It's either living in my pack or forever apart.

And he didn't like the thought that it had somewhere along the lines stopped being a collaboration. He felt pressured and he felt like there was only one decision, but that it was impossible for him to make.

Somehow he managed to keep himself together and not panic, but his brain felt like it would burst under this impossible amount of pressure.

The guilt seeping through the cracks didn't help, telling him and whispering that he should just do it. It was his responsibility, after all. And who was he even? He should count himself lucky, he should be thanking her on his knees for putting up with him — what kind of idiot was he, to almost throw away something as beautiful as this over his own feelings and fears! It was as if he snapped awake all of a sudden and looked at the situation from an eagle's view.

He looked up at Maia. Okay, he said after a long, pregnant pause in which the cogs in his brains whirred. I need to arrange stuff here. I... I have to figure it out, figure out when and... but I'll — yeah, I'll do it.

Except he didn't sound happy at all; rather as if he had lost something, just then.