James tilted his head up at her again. "Why did I get pushed off? You didn't do it, did you? You saved me, right?" He was asking many, many questions. But he liked asking them. He was like a child who just learned how to talk coherently.
"I wish I knew," she sighed, "but no, I didn't push you. I'm a hero too. We don't really do that."
"Right, right. Sorry." He chuckled. "Who do you think did it?" He asked, tilting his head back and forth dog-like.
"I wish I knew." Nyir's expression hardened. "I don't know if you had enemies. Once you remember something –anything about your past, I'll figure out who did this to you."
"Well every hero has an enemy, right?" He asked with a smile. "Don't you have one?" He gestured towards her with a hand, accentuating his point.
Nyir glanced away. "I have multiple." She narrowed her eyes at him. "None of mine have pushed me off a roof as of yet."
James' grin faded slightly at her glare. "Oh. Okay. So you don't know the enemies I have?" He squirmed under her cold eyes.
"I have no idea," she admitted. "Most heroes rarely meet each other," bit of a lie, "so this is the first time we've really spoken," bit more of a lie. "I wouldn't know who has it out for you."
"Oh. Will you be going to go find the person who pushed me off?" He tilted his head the other way, his neck bobbing under his head comfortably. "Cus I don't think that's smart. You might get hurt."
"Well I've got to get to the bottom of this," she said with an uncaring shrug. She'd never had much of a stopping sense before, so why stop now? "It's what heroes do. We seek out justice."
James fell silent and looked down at the ground, sighing softly. "Well… I wish I could help. But I dunno if you want me to tag along or not." He laughed nervously, squeezing the cup between his hands.
"I don't know if that'd be a good idea," she said, her mouth twisting, "it's dangerous, like you said. And you're in no state, physical or mental, to do anything risky."
James sighed and nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink. "So what will I do in the meantime? I can take care of your house?" He suddenly suggested, looking up at her with a bright smile at his idea.
Nyir grimaced at the idea, her eyes narrowing. "Okay, new plan. I go and investigate, very briefly, while you sit still and do absolutely nothing. Then when you're better, we'll investigate properly."
"Nothing? I'll get boooooored!" He whined, his voice raising to a loud whimper. "Are you sure I can't clean or… or do something? And you said it'd be smart if you just went! Not me."
"Look, if you touch anything I'll throw you out so fast." She glared at him. How dare he be this childish? "The original plan was that you'd stay here. I didn't realize you'd be moving around and trying to touch my things!"
"But cleaning? I won't touch your stuff, I-I don't want to get in your way," He quickly tried to soothe over, practically throwing his empty cup back onto the table in front of him.
"Absolutely not." Her glare intensified as she grabbed his discarded cup off the table. "You will not clean. You will not touch. You will not leave this couch. Repeat that back to me."
"Not even touch?" He protested softly, his eyes saddening drastically as he gazed desperately at her.
"Okay… I will not clean. I will not touch." He stopped there. He didn't care what she said, he was gonna leave the couch.
She noticed that he hadn't said that he wouldn't leave the couch, but she let it drop. "At least don't leave this room, got it?"
"What if I wanna take a bath or something?" He challenged with a grumpy little frown, crossing his arms child-like.
"Then ask me, and I'll escort you," she said, menacingly. "Don't push it."
"I don't want to be escorted back and forth to the bathroom," He protested boldly, ignoring her warning. He was sure she wasn't gonna do anything.
"Listen." She leaned forward, her face inches from his, and grabbed him by the collar. Her voice was dangerously low. "I am going against my better judgement and letting you share my home. Either you listen to my every command, or I send you back onto the street you almost died in. Am I clear?"
James gasped lightly, struggling against her and eventually slipping out of his dirty shirt in haste to escape her strong hands.
"Yes, yes, I understand! Please don't do that. I don't like it."
"And I don't like it when you question my authority," Nyir said, shrugging and leaning back as though she hadn't been terrifying moments before. "Glad we're on the same page now."
James decided he didn't want his shirt on anymore, and simply kept it off, his eyes heavy and distrusting of her, now.
"Right," He just muttered simply, his child-like face gone.
For half a moment she felt bad for him. His face had lost its innocent glow in the span of a few seconds. She shook that thought away. Served him right for being so petulant. Without the shirt and the childish expression though, she was suddenly made aware of two facts: 1) he was quite good looking, and 2) she was really housing a dangerous, fully grown man in her tiny apartment. "I wish I didn't have to use force," she said, the closest she would get to an apology.
James just huffed at her messing with the threads on his shirt for something to do. He could feel her watching him and greatly disliked it. He kind of wished she would leave to go do something so he could just relax with his filthy shirt off.
"Anyway, what are you gonna do now?"
She didn't reply, glancing away from him. She wanted to investigate the cause of his injuries, of course. But she also wanted to investigate him. She thought about asking a few heroes if they had any information on him, but thought better of it. Instead, she decided she'd stay and watch him a while longer. Perhaps he'd regain his memory. "Are you hungry?" she said at last.
