[ At any other time, Kaveh's ego would probably swell a size or two. There are many architects over the various regions of Teyvat, and for Wriothesley to consider him so highly... it should be nice. But he feels hollow and uncertain, sick to his stomach with hurt and guilt alike. It doesn't hurt that the warden is ice cold, accepting his resignation without so much as a hint of disappointment in his features.
His vision is swimming, his eyes anywhere other than the other's face lest he see the water glazing over liquid red. He's ready to just turn down the offer of tea and the rest of the tour, to get moving as quickly as possible and put the Fortress behind him for good.
But then Wriothesley says something that has his eyes shooting back up, and there's hurt paired with the confusion welling there for just a moment. ]
What the fuck are you—
[ His words fall flat, something striking at the back of his mind. The way he closed out of the messaging application without actually quitting it. His eyes fall shut, the action forcing his tears to brim over onto his lashes. ]
For your information, I didn't go looking for it. It was a fucking accident, okay? You got a message from her, and while I was pulling your phone out of your jacket, I grabbed it wrong and opened a whole fucking video. [ He could stop there, if he wanted, but he is honest, so— ] I'm not perfect; I had like 10 seconds where I was out of my mind and made it so much worse. But then I realized what I was doing and I closed it. I didn't—
You think I wanted to see it?
[ And now that the anger and the mortification and the pain are spilling out of him, he can't stop them; his eyes open once more, hands and lips trembling around his emotion as his eyes, glowering and hurting, find Wriothesley's face yet again. ]
Besides, you know you're a hypocrite, right? You treated me like shit the night I sent that message to you. All high and mighty, like I'm some kind of wasted whore making dumb choices with my life— and you're exactly the same.
[ His breath catches in a sob, and Kaveh scrambles to his feet, fists clenching. ]
You know what? Just... fuck your tea. Fuck your tour. I don't wanna be here anymore.
[ It's an abrupt, immature close to the conversation, but Kaveh is hurting enough that he doesn't care. He turns away and storms down the ramp— or tries. He makes it about three steps before his ankle gives out again, not ready for the pressure he's suddenly determined to put on it.
( Kaveh is chewing him out like he’s a luxury item worthy of his rage. Every fanged point is bone deep, scraping the innards of his nerves and melting his words between his ears. Kaveh’s voice seeps deep in his mind, ringing while yapping and the pitiful thing is Wriothesley takes it. He’s not about to raise his fists against Kaveh, but they do curl tight in crossed arms.
If he took a shot for all the times he heard the word fuck today… He’s stunned a single statement could make Kaveh go berserk. He can only regard this explosion as Kaveh facing his own demons. Wriothesley doesn’t think he did anything wrong between the two.
Until he feels manipulated. So he stands briskly from his chair, towering as Kaveh starts to make his escape. So he thinks he can come in here, berate him and not let him get a single word out?
He presses his fingers to his eyelids when he hears Kaveh stumble ahead while he tries to run away yet again. Some crocodile tears are in fact not to be regarded as ammo that can be used against him. He’s right in him being a hypocrite, because he knows there’s something present here— but Wriothesley can move on. Especially after this. So he approaches him, stalking downstairs slowly. Metal boots are heavy on the narrow steps. )
So, here’s the thing.
I don’t care what you saw, or if it was an accident. I care that you didn’t tell me on the moment, and instead cancelled our scheduled plans because of it. Even today you still didn’t come clean until I mentioned it.
10 seconds is still a lot of my privacy to scroll through, and you can’t convince me it’s the same as you accidentally sending me your picture.
Right?
So this will be it, then. I was looking forward to showing you around, but this can’t be helped.
( He walks past his collapsed body and towards the door. )
This might be the first time I have a Gard escort someone outside of the Fortress, now that I think about it.
( Kaveh doesn’t know it but his words did a number on him. Kaveh might as well have spit on his face and his attempts to remain to civil, friendly, or as far as they could have gotten. )
First time for everything, I guess. I’ll get Sigewinne to take a look at your ankle before you leave.
[ But Wriothesley is gone. Kaveh's stomach ties itself in knots, and his eyes close against the sudden, gut-wrenching urge to vomit. How is it that every time he starts to get close to someone, starts to find real feelings creeping their way under his skin, he finds a way to throw the most massive wrench possible right in the middle of it?
Self-sabotage? Or self-protection— hurt more now to hurt less later?
Right now, it doesn't matter. He wants to tell Wriothesley that he has it wrong, that it wasn't about trying to conceal it on purpose or anything like that, that he felt guilty and hurt and didn't know how to handle the enormity of it, that he ran away not to deceive him, but to protect himself—
But it doesn't matter. He can pack his things tonight, go home to Sumeru, to that other relationship he wrecked years ago
except he can't, because when Sigewinne comes to him, it's to tell him that he has sprained his ankle this time, that he'll need to keep off it for the time being, keep it wrapped and compressed and elevated
and he sees Wriothesley in the room after and tries to talk to him, but he's ignored again
and then he's led from the Fortress by a pair of gardes, one on each side to support him, curious eyes boring into him all over again—
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sempiternals2023-11-16 11:24 pm
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His vision is swimming, his eyes anywhere other than the other's face lest he see the water glazing over liquid red. He's ready to just turn down the offer of tea and the rest of the tour, to get moving as quickly as possible and put the Fortress behind him for good.
But then Wriothesley says something that has his eyes shooting back up, and there's hurt paired with the confusion welling there for just a moment. ]
What the fuck are you—
[ His words fall flat, something striking at the back of his mind. The way he closed out of the messaging application without actually quitting it. His eyes fall shut, the action forcing his tears to brim over onto his lashes. ]
For your information, I didn't go looking for it. It was a fucking accident, okay? You got a message from her, and while I was pulling your phone out of your jacket, I grabbed it wrong and opened a whole fucking video. [ He could stop there, if he wanted, but he is honest, so— ] I'm not perfect; I had like 10 seconds where I was out of my mind and made it so much worse. But then I realized what I was doing and I closed it. I didn't—
You think I wanted to see it?
[ And now that the anger and the mortification and the pain are spilling out of him, he can't stop them; his eyes open once more, hands and lips trembling around his emotion as his eyes, glowering and hurting, find Wriothesley's face yet again. ]
Besides, you know you're a hypocrite, right? You treated me like shit the night I sent that message to you. All high and mighty, like I'm some kind of wasted whore making dumb choices with my life— and you're exactly the same.
[ His breath catches in a sob, and Kaveh scrambles to his feet, fists clenching. ]
You know what? Just... fuck your tea. Fuck your tour. I don't wanna be here anymore.
[ It's an abrupt, immature close to the conversation, but Kaveh is hurting enough that he doesn't care. He turns away and storms down the ramp— or tries. He makes it about three steps before his ankle gives out again, not ready for the pressure he's suddenly determined to put on it.
He collapses in a heap on the spot. ]
no subject
( Kaveh is chewing him out like he’s a luxury item worthy of his rage. Every fanged point is bone deep, scraping the innards of his nerves and melting his words between his ears. Kaveh’s voice seeps deep in his mind, ringing while yapping and the pitiful thing is Wriothesley takes it. He’s not about to raise his fists against Kaveh, but they do curl tight in crossed arms.
If he took a shot for all the times he heard the word fuck today… He’s stunned a single statement could make Kaveh go berserk. He can only regard this explosion as Kaveh facing his own demons. Wriothesley doesn’t think he did anything wrong between the two.
Until he feels manipulated.
So he stands briskly from his chair, towering as Kaveh starts to make his escape. So he thinks he can come in here, berate him and not let him get a single word out?
He presses his fingers to his eyelids when he hears Kaveh stumble ahead while he tries to run away yet again. Some crocodile tears are in fact not to be regarded as ammo that can be used against him. He’s right in him being a hypocrite, because he knows there’s something present here— but Wriothesley can move on. Especially after this. So he approaches him, stalking downstairs slowly. Metal boots are heavy on the narrow steps. )
So, here’s the thing.
I don’t care what you saw, or if it was an accident.
I care that you didn’t tell me on the moment, and instead cancelled our scheduled plans because of it.
Even today you still didn’t come clean until I mentioned it.
10 seconds is still a lot of my privacy to scroll through, and you can’t convince me it’s the same as you accidentally sending me your picture.
Right?
So this will be it, then.
I was looking forward to showing you around, but this can’t be helped.
( He walks past his collapsed body and towards the door. )
This might be the first time I have a Gard escort someone outside of the Fortress, now that I think about it.
( Kaveh doesn’t know it but his words did a number on him. Kaveh might as well have spit on his face and his attempts to remain to civil, friendly, or as far as they could have gotten. )
First time for everything, I guess.
I’ll get Sigewinne to take a look at your ankle before you leave.
no subject
[ But Wriothesley is gone. Kaveh's stomach ties itself in knots, and his eyes close against the sudden, gut-wrenching urge to vomit. How is it that every time he starts to get close to someone, starts to find real feelings creeping their way under his skin, he finds a way to throw the most massive wrench possible right in the middle of it?
Self-sabotage? Or self-protection— hurt more now to hurt less later?
Right now, it doesn't matter. He wants to tell Wriothesley that he has it wrong, that it wasn't about trying to conceal it on purpose or anything like that, that he felt guilty and hurt and didn't know how to handle the enormity of it, that he ran away not to deceive him, but to protect himself—
But it doesn't matter. He can pack his things tonight, go home to Sumeru, to that other relationship he wrecked years ago
except he can't, because when Sigewinne comes to him, it's to tell him that he has sprained his ankle this time, that he'll need to keep off it for the time being, keep it wrapped and compressed and elevated
and he sees Wriothesley in the room after and tries to talk to him, but he's ignored again
and then he's led from the Fortress by a pair of gardes, one on each side to support him, curious eyes boring into him all over again—
exiled from the place people are exiled to. ]