[ she honestly hadn't expected there'd be more for him to say. that the news about the cost of his new deal was confession enough, but it seems there had been something even heavier weighing on him this whole time.

strangely enough, marta finds it a far easier thing to process. ]

You used me?

[ it's a ghost of a whisper, but there is no pain in her tone. rather, she sounds confused — no. indignant.

suddenly whatever she'd been looking for is abandoned, forgotten in the face of a new emotion gripping her. she crosses the short distance between them to jab a finger into the square of his chest. once, twice for emphasis. ]

You listen to me, Takeshi Kovacs. You didn't take anything I didn't want to give.

[ her words are clipped, exasperated. hushed only because she's still aware of where they are, but shaking in a way that speaks to how loud it could be, were they anywhere else. ]

I've been used before. I know what that feels like and that—

[ she knows how much it burns. that kind of betrayal, that kind of shame. she's looked in the eyes of people she once trusted and seen how they truly saw her in the reflection of their eyes. that's not what she sees here. and she absolutely refuses to let him think he's anything like any of those people. ]

We're friends. [ finally, finally, she dares to put a label on what they are. months of dithering, of avoiding it even in thought, and the answer winds up being so very simple. regardless what else they are, regardless what else they could be — they're friends. without a doubt, without a price, they're friends. and the more she says it, the more the desperation in her tone rises. ] This is what friends do, they lean on each other. Take care of one another.

[ as if she hadn't leaned on him just as much. as if she hadn't been just as selfish for wanting to hold onto the way he saw her for her. it didn't matter that she didn't know the full story. no one ever truly does. ]

You didn't use me. What you did was let me help you.