( To love another person means to let their wings pan out freely anywhere they wish. Kaveh’s place isn’t here, that much has been true since the beginning. Wriothesley’s heart isn’t one someone can simply own, either. )
It’s serious, yes. I used authority on him.
( He didn’t want to risk Kaveh fleeing on him, and yet he still did. The wrench in his heart is a formidable one. It’s like cement pouring through every vein as it pumps, growing hard and cold. The pain isn’t something he has felt in the past. It’s a different type of heartbreak.
He looks at her on his bed, inching away to give her more space in case she wanted to join him. He wouldn’t want her sleeping on the couch. )
[ She's silent for a moment when he speaks, following the moment of nothing by moving to take up the space he's offered her, sitting alongside him on his bed. Her hand reaches out, covering his, soft fingers around hardened ones; her eyes are gentle on his face, kind with love, but serious nonetheless.
Her heart aches for him. ]
You don't have to respond to my question, [ she says, her tone holding that same gentle quality, ] but you know as well as I do that it doesn't change the answer. And...
[ She hesitates, not sure if she should say what she's thinking. One last try, again. ]
I know you've made mistakes, Wriothesley. But you said yourself that he's made them too. Perhaps instead of deciding what's best for both of you, it's time to lay all your cards on the table and consider them together.
( He realizes now he shouldn’t text her about this anymore, either. His feelings are his alone, and only they can transcend the logic working against them. He doesn’t need her telling him how he should go about it, though he does appreciate her concerns. Wriothesley glances over at her, biting down his tongue from requesting her to leave.
She is indeed special. In other turn of events, he’d be sharing life properly with her. They often work together and she can come in and out as she pleases. )
Stop, Navia. Thank you, really, but stop.
( He eases against her side, leaning his chin over her shoulder as his eyes close. This could truly be them if both their hearts weren’t elsewhere. )
[ She sighs. Every part of her wants to argue, to tell him that he's wrong— but she can feel the rejection coming off him in waves, the stubborn refusal that makes up so much of him. She won't get anywhere by pushing— Archons be damned, maybe she was never going to get anywhere with this at all, as much as it pains her to admit.
She only wants to see him happy, after all. ]
..Okay.
[ And maybe in some other universe, this would be enough for both of them. Her head tilts, to rest against his, and her lips part as if to offer him well-wishes for sleep, but even as her eyes close, words from the doorway echoes in the room, edged with a determination despite their speaker's voice being trembling and soft: ]
Your Grace, do you think we could possibly—
[ and then breaking into a soft, strangled sound, a clearing of the throat, a more strident rush of words ]
—I'm so sorry, I... I didn't know you had company; it wasn't important anyway, just about one of the designs. I um. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow— Sorry, good night—
[ and a flash of brilliant blonde as the figure spins and hurries away. ]
( There is probably another realm for their happiness to coexist, one which isn’t complicated or taboo. He starts feeling like ebbing away into his own realm of slumber, feeling the impending headache slowly settle to the back of his head. He’s definitely not making any appearances tomorrow anywhere in the Fortress.
Though when Kaveh’s voice seeps through into his room, everything sinks. He flinches nearly out of Navia’s arms, eyes wide in the dim darkness watching as what could have been another chance escapes just like that. He kicks off the sheets, stumbling out of bed on nothing but a shirt and his underwear. )
Kaveh?!
Kaveh, wait.
God damn it.
( If he had told her to leave sooner, this could have been a chance. But fate seems to have other ideas about him, confirmations and signs about why none of this is a good idea. Still, he can’t help the rush of heated, blinding anger. )
[ By the time Wriothesley makes it out into his office, Kaveh is at the opposite door ready to leave it; his hand is on the door to push, and he stops only at the sound of the other man's voice calling his name. His eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and when he turns to face him, it's reluctant because it reveals the tears shining in his eyes, those that have already tracked down onto his cheeks from both now and before, disturbing his makeup. He looks a wreck, and he hates it.
But he lifts his head, holds it high, meets the other's eyes with a careful gaze. ]
I'm sorry, Your Grace.
[ His voice breaks on the words, and it's perhaps very clear to Wriothesley that this isn't what he intended to say when he first appeared in the doorway. But it's what he's saying now— and it will have to be enough. ]
I keep letting myself get caught up in my feelings, even though you've made it clear time and time again that they're not returned.. it— I— [ his eyes squeeze shut once more ] —I'll make sure it doesn't happen again.
( He doesn't understand how Kaveh allows himself to hold onto the blame when in reality Wriothesley is the one at fault. Seeing Kaveh so broken in front of him, smeared off of his makeup and once again wearing tears, Wriothesley doesn't know what to do. He's stunted in the middle of his lobby, barefoot against the cold metal and unable to reach out to him.
He'll just make matters worse if he were to hold him or wipe off his tears. )
Kaveh...
( He fears Navia might be listening, anyway. He wouldn't be standing here had she not shown up, not that he blames her: he loves her dearly. Tonight wasn't her business, though. )
It was my fault, alright? I will never be able to make it up to you, I can't return to you those moments so for that, I'm sorry.
Will you wait here? I'll get dressed and escort you to your room.
[ As Wriothesley talks, Kaveh finds himself standing frozen in place; for a long moment he just stands there staring— not even at the fact the man is wearing just his underwear and a shirt, but at the fact he's practically pleading with him, apologizing in a way he himself needed to some weeks ago.
And he wants to forgive, wants to let him escort him back to his room— of course he does, of course— but right now he feels tired, and dirty, and hurt, and he just...
Kaveh shakes his head after a moment. ]
Thank you for the offer, Your Grace, but.. I can make it back to my room by myself. I think— I think I'd just prefer to... [ He closes his eyes, huffs out a quick sigh before he manages to look back up at him once more. ] It.. we'll be alright, I just need to be alone right now.
( He’s not sure why he believed Kaveh would agree and wait for him to be escorted— selfish wishes, perhaps. He wants to tell him, the words burn at the back of his throat and he feels Navia’s presence also pressure him. )
Kaveh.
I understand.
( When Kaveh leaves, Wriothesley turns back so he can go back in his room. Every move seems agitated once he arrives, and he stands in the middle of it, arms crossed as he looks at Navia. )
[ To Navia's credit, she has already gathered the very few things she brought with her by the time Wriothesley gets back into the room. She says nothing, doesn't even touch him in comfort— she just offers him a small, sad smile before she leaves both his room and the Fortress.
She'll send an apology text later, when he's had a chance to calm down— when things have hopefully had a chance to get better.
Kaveh, for his part, leaves the office straight for the communal bathrooms, trying to keep himself as together as possible— an effort that apparently fails, if the glance of the single inmate actually showering at this hour is anything to go by. The blonde knows him reasonably well; he's a strikingly handsome Fontainian gentleman who has been helping with some of the reconstruction, a man with something of a reputation as being a "bad guy". He's never been anything but nice to Kaveh, though, if a bit flirtatious. ]
Mael, [ Kaveh greets him with a small smile, a nod, and suddenly the man in question is in his space, concern on his features, offering him the comfort he needs— first just through words, and then through touches, until before long he's being fucked against the wall of the shower cubicle, then again on his bed.
It's there that he finally falls asleep, tears on his cheeks but resolute in his decision to move on.
( He's going to be using his lock from now on. The door is shut tight after she makes it out of it, passing the latches only he would be able to pick. He rests his back against the cold of the metal trying to stabilize himself in the moment. It's not her fault, but it is. It's not like he's someone she should be needing to coddle without him asking her to. The effort, and her care, don't go unnoticed, but the timing is tragically off.
Kaveh shouldn't have waltzed in his room either, not without knocking, and of course, the main villain is truly Wriothesley at the end of it all. He deserves to go to bed alone after using Kaveh like he did.
He wakes up earlier than the alarms that morning. Showers, dresses, and decides it's only right to check on Kaveh. The heaviness of alcohol is long gone, but as much as he wants to pretend he'd forgotten it all, it's all too real. They didn't drink enough to black out over each other's bodies like he intended. As he wished.
Someone else got live that. The guy he's been hearing about lately between guards on the passing, or inmates. He's sure that's him in Kaveh's bed, both so sound asleep and spent from all the sex. He feels a hole burn through his body watching them, engulfing everything in flames he swears feel real. Sorry.
He moves away from the doorway and his heavy footsteps fade and fade on the metal flooring. As promised, he skips his breakfast today and he locks up the office. He needs to take the day to clean up the private quarters on the ship and distract his mind. Would it really hurt more than this if he were to simply look in the mirror, then Kaveh, and tell him how he feels?
After all this time rejecting Kaveh, it wouldn't be fair to then go back on his word yet again and confuse him even more. )
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sempiternals2023-11-16 11:24 pm
no subject
It’s serious, yes. I used authority on him.
( He didn’t want to risk Kaveh fleeing on him, and yet he still did. The wrench in his heart is a formidable one. It’s like cement pouring through every vein as it pumps, growing hard and cold. The pain isn’t something he has felt in the past. It’s a different type of heartbreak.
He looks at her on his bed, inching away to give her more space in case she wanted to join him. He wouldn’t want her sleeping on the couch. )
I rather not answer that question.
no subject
Her heart aches for him. ]
You don't have to respond to my question, [ she says, her tone holding that same gentle quality, ] but you know as well as I do that it doesn't change the answer. And...
[ She hesitates, not sure if she should say what she's thinking. One last try, again. ]
I know you've made mistakes, Wriothesley. But you said yourself that he's made them too. Perhaps instead of deciding what's best for both of you, it's time to lay all your cards on the table and consider them together.
no subject
She is indeed special. In other turn of events, he’d be sharing life properly with her. They often work together and she can come in and out as she pleases. )
Stop, Navia. Thank you, really, but stop.
( He eases against her side, leaning his chin over her shoulder as his eyes close. This could truly be them if both their hearts weren’t elsewhere. )
I just need to sleep it off.
no subject
She only wants to see him happy, after all. ]
..Okay.
[ And maybe in some other universe, this would be enough for both of them. Her head tilts, to rest against his, and her lips part as if to offer him well-wishes for sleep, but even as her eyes close, words from the doorway echoes in the room, edged with a determination despite their speaker's voice being trembling and soft: ]
Your Grace, do you think we could possibly—
[ and then breaking into a soft, strangled sound, a clearing of the throat, a more strident rush of words ]
—I'm so sorry, I... I didn't know you had company; it wasn't important anyway, just about one of the designs. I um. I'll talk to you about it tomorrow— Sorry, good night—
[ and a flash of brilliant blonde as the figure spins and hurries away. ]
no subject
He starts feeling like ebbing away into his own realm of slumber, feeling the impending headache slowly settle to the back of his head. He’s definitely not making any appearances tomorrow anywhere in the Fortress.
Though when Kaveh’s voice seeps through into his room, everything sinks. He flinches nearly out of Navia’s arms, eyes wide in the dim darkness watching as what could have been another chance escapes just like that. He kicks off the sheets, stumbling out of bed on nothing but a shirt and his underwear. )
Kaveh?!
Kaveh, wait.
God damn it.
( If he had told her to leave sooner, this could have been a chance. But fate seems to have other ideas about him, confirmations and signs about why none of this is a good idea. Still, he can’t help the rush of heated, blinding anger. )
Fuck.
no subject
But he lifts his head, holds it high, meets the other's eyes with a careful gaze. ]
I'm sorry, Your Grace.
[ His voice breaks on the words, and it's perhaps very clear to Wriothesley that this isn't what he intended to say when he first appeared in the doorway. But it's what he's saying now— and it will have to be enough. ]
I keep letting myself get caught up in my feelings, even though you've made it clear time and time again that they're not returned.. it— I— [ his eyes squeeze shut once more ] —I'll make sure it doesn't happen again.
no subject
( He doesn't understand how Kaveh allows himself to hold onto the blame when in reality Wriothesley is the one at fault. Seeing Kaveh so broken in front of him, smeared off of his makeup and once again wearing tears, Wriothesley doesn't know what to do. He's stunted in the middle of his lobby, barefoot against the cold metal and unable to reach out to him.
He'll just make matters worse if he were to hold him or wipe off his tears. )
Kaveh...
( He fears Navia might be listening, anyway. He wouldn't be standing here had she not shown up, not that he blames her: he loves her dearly. Tonight wasn't her business, though. )
It was my fault, alright? I will never be able to make it up to you, I can't return to you those moments so for that, I'm sorry.
Will you wait here? I'll get dressed and escort you to your room.
no subject
And he wants to forgive, wants to let him escort him back to his room— of course he does, of course— but right now he feels tired, and dirty, and hurt, and he just...
Kaveh shakes his head after a moment. ]
Thank you for the offer, Your Grace, but.. I can make it back to my room by myself. I think— I think I'd just prefer to... [ He closes his eyes, huffs out a quick sigh before he manages to look back up at him once more. ] It.. we'll be alright, I just need to be alone right now.
I'm sorry.
no subject
Kaveh.
I understand.
( When Kaveh leaves, Wriothesley turns back so he can go back in his room. Every move seems agitated once he arrives, and he stands in the middle of it, arms crossed as he looks at Navia. )
Leave.
no subject
She'll send an apology text later, when he's had a chance to calm down— when things have hopefully had a chance to get better.
Kaveh, for his part, leaves the office straight for the communal bathrooms, trying to keep himself as together as possible— an effort that apparently fails, if the glance of the single inmate actually showering at this hour is anything to go by. The blonde knows him reasonably well; he's a strikingly handsome Fontainian gentleman who has been helping with some of the reconstruction, a man with something of a reputation as being a "bad guy". He's never been anything but nice to Kaveh, though, if a bit flirtatious. ]
Mael, [ Kaveh greets him with a small smile, a nod, and suddenly the man in question is in his space, concern on his features, offering him the comfort he needs— first just through words, and then through touches, until before long he's being fucked against the wall of the shower cubicle, then again on his bed.
It's there that he finally falls asleep, tears on his cheeks but resolute in his decision to move on.
Just like he promised. ]
no subject
Kaveh shouldn't have waltzed in his room either, not without knocking, and of course, the main villain is truly Wriothesley at the end of it all. He deserves to go to bed alone after using Kaveh like he did.
He wakes up earlier than the alarms that morning. Showers, dresses, and decides it's only right to check on Kaveh. The heaviness of alcohol is long gone, but as much as he wants to pretend he'd forgotten it all, it's all too real. They didn't drink enough to black out over each other's bodies like he intended. As he wished.
Someone else got live that. The guy he's been hearing about lately between guards on the passing, or inmates. He's sure that's him in Kaveh's bed, both so sound asleep and spent from all the sex. He feels a hole burn through his body watching them, engulfing everything in flames he swears feel real. Sorry.
He moves away from the doorway and his heavy footsteps fade and fade on the metal flooring. As promised, he skips his breakfast today and he locks up the office. He needs to take the day to clean up the private quarters on the ship and distract his mind. Would it really hurt more than this if he were to simply look in the mirror, then Kaveh, and tell him how he feels?
After all this time rejecting Kaveh, it wouldn't be fair to then go back on his word yet again and confuse him even more. )