( she presses her tongue against the sharp edges of her teeth, pressing her fingers into the can until she feels it begin to dimple. what is her problem? can't she see, doesn't she understand? it's taking every bit of restraint sayaka has, to keep from yelling, to keep her emotions from bursting out — cold, not warm, and she hates homura like this, all cold and better than. she's not. she never will be. she can't.

there's a waver to her voice, still loud, less strong; her smile up at homura is tight but she still tries to play it as a joke because the other alternative is to veer it into something sharp and cold. )

Because I'm good and you're evil?