snow is (fair) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-29 20:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | ariadne, snow white |
WHO: Tess and Kevin
WHAT: An apology, an alter change, and an abrupt exit
WHERE: Tess' apartment complex
WHEN: Recently
WARNINGS: Nada!
Maintaining radio silence was Kevin’s preferred way of handling things, right up there with ignoring everything that reminded him of what happened at that fucking party. Yea, getting together as much money as possible to get the fuck out of Las Vegas was very high on his To-Do list. Harley had apparently stayed out of trouble because there was a distinct lack of bruises going on and he was thankful about that. The less misery she caused the better and he’d be in and out before anyone really knew he was there. Hopefully. After the party, he’d decided he’d had enough of hotels and promptly moved out. Kevin moved into some shitty ass place with thin as fuck walls that Tess had mentioned that one time and promptly forgot all about the fact that she lived there.
He’d spent the past few days hitting the tables hard but without much luck. Apparently someone had recently blown through some of the less wary casinos like an ill-timed hurricane and he was left relying far too much on his people-reading skills for him to be comfortable with. So time off it was and that got him exploring the little complex he’d set up shop in. It never hurt to find the neighbors to charm and figure out which ones to sleep with. Which, of course, reminded him of Azeneth and the party. “Fuck that,” he muttered as he turned a corner, all but running into someone. Great. “Sorry, wasn’t watching where I was going,” he muttered, before even looking to see who he’d run into. Fuck.
“Fuck,” indeed was Tess’ thought, a small bag of her laundry spilling to the ground, her bundle of keys to follow. She had crouched down to grab them when she heard the start of an apology, and looked up to that familiar face. Not that there was anything wrong with running into Kevin. Okay, well there was, but unlike before she had mostly come to terms with the fact that he was in the city. Now she was running into him just a few steps from her apartment and that was another surprise altogether.
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” she mumbled but it was only half hearted, the warmth of the tease creeping into her voice as she grabbed her laundry bag. Hefting it over her shoulder, she snatched up her keys and rose to her full height, still shorter than him, made even more noticeable while wearing flats. “Slumming it still, Kev?” This wasn’t exactly a step up from Excalibur.
He really was beginning to hate his life. First, it was those goddamn pictures he’d found of her with some guy. Then, it was that stupid ass party that he had nothing to feel guilty over. Now he’d gone and fucking spilled her laundry everywhere. He was honestly surprised to run into her because he hadn’t thought for a second that she’d given him the name of the place she lived. What the hell was he supposed to think about that? Nothing. I’m not thinking a single thing about it. It means nothing! Still, for as much as he wanted to just keep walking, he knew he couldn’t do that to her. Instead, he moved to kneel down, to get her keys, but she’d beaten him to it. God, this was awkward.
“Can’t spend all my money if I ever want to get out of this place,” he replied with a shrug, hands slipping into the front pockets of his well worn jeans. He didn’t mind that he was taller than her. In fact, he preferred it because it made him feel more masculine, knowing that he’d always be able to hold her close and shield her from the bad shit in the world. Just turned out he was also the bad shit and he couldn’t protect her from himself. “You live around here?” he asked, but it was a stupid ass question and they both knew it.
“Uh,” the urge to lie was high, making her drop her keys into her other hand, still clutching her laundry bag, to tuck her hair over her ear. But lies were only done well when there was no chance of getting caught. He was here which meant he either knew someone there or had moved in himself. There was little point in it now. “Yeah, just down the way.” She pointed her thumb back over her shoulder.
“So. Moved in too? Or staying with someone here?” Neither really would’ve surprised her but there was the barest hint of a frown at the latter. Just a second and then it was gone. Whatever. She didn’t care what he did or who he did it with.
Huh. So she did live around here. Well, that was better than her shacking up with some guy that thought this dump was something to be proud of. Not that he cared or anything. “I’m down that way,” he replied, pointing in the opposite direction. At least they hadn’t ended up as neighbors or anything. “On my own. Not really enough room for two.” Meaning, not enough room for two beds and separate space. He didn’t share his space anymore or anything else about himself. Sharing led to caring and it’d only be a matter of time before he fucked it up so why bother?
“Want some help with that?” Because really, it couldn’t get anymore awkward and helping her with her laundry was just the neighborly thing to do. He wasn’t going to ask about the party, not a chance, but he also didn’t quite want to leave yet. Maybe it was because he hadn’t moved on as much as he’d thought after the events on the roof or maybe it was because he was trying to prove to himself that it didn’t matter. She was just another girl now. That was it. And maybe, just maybe, if he repeated it often enough, it’d turn out true.
She didn’t, not really, but she had also spent the days since the party in quiet solitude, going to work, drinking when she got home and going to bed. Since she hadn’t had as bad or violent a time as some others she kept her thoughts mostly to herself, dodging questions and people in the process. At least with Kevin she didn’t owe him anything, not to her knowledge, and she didn’t have to pretend. The smile she flashed him was more amused than grateful, and she lifted the linen sack to hand it over to him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t ever seen her clothes or underthings before.
“Sure. You get to carry it then.” It was a laundry day tradition, well, a tradition for all things Tess. If she could get away with having him carry things - the laundry bag, the trash out, the groceries in - she would. “Room’s in the other building. You get to keep me company. Shit’s fucking boring.” Sure she brought a magazine down with her but actual conversation sometimes trumped it. “How’ve you been?”
The smile he gave her was purely reactionary. It had nothing to do with the fact that they'd spent many a laundry day canoodling in sweats in the back corner of the place or that he'd always done the lifting in their relationship. Neither of those memories were why he smiled. Harley, who had been forced to stay separate from Kevin since Bailey had left, found herself starting to wake up a bit in his mind. Interesting. She was content to just watch for now and test it out later. Kevin didn't even notice.
He picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder before stepping up next to her so that they could walk together. "Laundry day is usually boring," he pointed out lightly as they started on their way. "M'fine. Some chick's been hitting the smaller places around town so nothing's really a good score. Hoping it picks up soon though. Faster I get in, the faster I get out." Why was he constantly reminding Tess that he was leaving? It didn't matter. "How've you been? Enjoying the nightlife?"
She frowned at his misfortune, despite her staunch decision not to care one way or another about his work in Vegas. “Sucks,” she said simply, which it did. Conning was mostly about being at the right place at the right time, and coming on the heels of another was always a bad thing.
The dig about the nightlife made her grimace and she wondered if he had seen the pictures of her and Jack. He hadn’t said anything the last time they met but it had been a while. Still, the expression only lingered for a moment before she shrugged, one shoulder peeking out as her grey shirt slipped down, making her pull the old comfortable fabric back up. “Fine. Kinda sick of partying though. That last one at the hotel was just…” It wasn’t bad, not in comparison to, say Snow, anyway. But she still shook her head at the events before casting a sidelong look to him as they walked. “Did you go?”
“Yea,” he replied, but that was all they were going to say about that. Her frown didn’t mean anything just like the way he didn’t like seeing her frown didn’t mean anything. Kevin just focused on walking, putting one step in front of the other. Thankfully, the laundry area wasn’t too far and at least now he knew where it was now. Silver lining and all that shit.
And if he was glad that she was sick of partying, he tried not to let it show much more than just the slight surprise in his eyes. “Forced, yea. Wasn’t planning on it but I guess the hotel has a sense of humor. Gave me a suitcase to carry around with the word ‘homeless’ written on it." He sounded like he didn't care, but she knew him and she'd know he hated being accused of that. "Manage not to die at least. That's a thumbs up."
She gave a little laugh at that. She never thought her life would ever be one where they were actively glad they didn’t die. The cons she and the man beside her had put themselves in rarely involved anything close that. A severe ass kicking? Maybe. Jailtime, sure. But death? Not that she knew of. And there they were now, well within death’s grasp all because of some shitty hotel.
“High five,” she offered, lifting one slender arm up to slap her hand against his, tossing a wry grin his way. “To not dying.” Snow hadn’t offered up much of her experience, just grousing that it was awful and she needed some Door time and Tess let her have the privacy. But she hadn’t died, so that was a definite plus. And neither had Kevin so she supposed it was a good enough reason to be smiling as they found the laundry room entrance. “And I wouldn’t worry too much about the homeless suitcase shit. I was on fucking fire. It means nothing.”
It made him more than a little uncomfortable that death was something very real here, and not even over something he’d done. Thankfully, he didn’t know anything about Harley’s night and, in fact, hadn’t really heard all that much from her. Granted, since he’d been having shitty luck at the casinos, he’d been letting her through a bit more frequently provided she didn’t come back bruised again. No way in fucking hell was he dying because she made a mistake. All of that got pushed away when Tess gave him a high five. It was stupid and silly and something they’d done, so it came with a warm smile. At least that also meant she hadn’t died either and that was good.
He chuckled when she said she’d been on fire, just imagining flames licking at her skin. Yea, he could see her being on fire and it almost made him sorry he’d missed her at the party. Almost, because then he remembered he’d gotten laid and effectively forgot all about Tess. Maybe another roll in the sack with Azeneth wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “I can recall a time or five where you were on fire, metaphorically speaking. Once literally speaking. Or was that me?” He grinned as he held the door open for her before following her in.
She gave a sharp bark of a laugh as they walked in, the memory slamming into her at his words. “Both. I told you that camping was a bad idea. Drunk made it worse. It was only right you got a little singed too.” She dropped her magazine on the bench inside before propping open the washer top and gesturing him closer. “Nah, this one was like. I mean it was real fire, it burned and warmed. But it didn’t hurt me, or th--my dress.” She almost talked about the girl she had been with but shook her head. That one was a little harder to explain.
“You?” She slipped the bag from his hand, her fingers brushing against his as they grabbed the back before prying it open and dumping the contents into the machine. “What did you get up to in there?”
Camping was never a bad idea, but fire was always an unpredictable element. Much like the two of them were on occasion, but he enjoyed it. Kept things interesting, certainly. Stop it, he reminded himself, not wanting to keep reminiscing about the past. Instead, he focused on her description of what she’d meant and arched an eyebrow as she changed the direction of her sentence. “Sounds like it was a good kind of burn. Must’ve run into some interesting guys,” he replied with feigned nonchalance. Fake it until it’s true. That would help.
“Found my way up to the roof and talked to a woman who thought she knew what I needed based on the whole homeless suitcase thing. Ended up leaving the damn thing with her,” Kevin shared, handing over her laundry and watching with amusement as she just threw it all in one machine. The lazy way of doing things. He grinned and hopped up on the washer machine next to the one she’d just used. “Nothing too crazy by any means. I was still my charming self.” He smirked at that, knowing, or perhaps just expecting, she would roll her eyes at him.
She opened her mouth to correct him, though why she cared, she wouldn’t say. But he continued on, nodding along as he spoke, keeping it on cold and adding the detergent. Just as she finished he sent a smirk her way, talking about his charm, and she couldn’t mask the momentary scowl. She didn’t really want to think about the hows and whys of his charming at the party, and since they both admitted they didn’t die she could only assume he found much more pleasurable ways of spending his time there.
“It was a girl. I managed not to burn our dresses ,” she replied coolly, because one-upping him was better than nothing, and she hopped on top of the machine to sit beside him, giving him a half shrug. “An interesting girl, you mean.”
From the scowl, he managed to figure out all on his own that he’d said the wrong thing. Trying to figure out this relationship was probably the hardest thing he’d had to figure out in a long time and he was glad he wouldn’t be sticking around for much longer. Never you mind that he’d be saying that every day whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. Permanent things stopped being for him five years ago. “A girl?” he repeated, surprised and interested all at once. “Not something I would’ve expected,” he added, a low whistle escaping him as he looked to the floor in front of him.
“Clearly,” he replied, a bit dryly, when she corrected him after the fact. “You find her after?”
“Yeah,” she said, her spirit lifting a little now that she surpassed him in party stories. She should have known that wasn’t going to be the end of it and she started slightly when he asked her the follow up. “Sorta. She found me. Kinda.” Her hands found the ends of her old grey shirt, tugging at the frayed hem as she recalled the girl. “She asked for me on the journals. No big deal.” She wondered briefly if he assumed she was downplaying it but really it was that simple. It had been a one off, nothing more. No reason to dwell on it so she didn’t.
Well, didn’t dwell on it other than to make conversation. “Guess I can be a little charming too.”
Kevin did assume she was just downplaying it but he didn’t immediately imagine what the other girl had looked like or what had happened between them. “Huh,” he muttered quietly to himself, surprised that he hadn’t. It was something he’d almost expected, to even want to imagine that tryst, but nothing came. It was curious, a little confusing, but he let it go and refocused on Tess a moment later. “You’ve always been charming. We got away with half the shit we did cause you know when to smile and charm someone,” he pointed out, almost off-handedly. “Hope you didn’t break the poor girl’s heart,” Kevin added with a smile. “So. How’s work going?” He didn’t particularly want to keep talking about the party, mostly because he didn’t want to dwell on why he wasn’t imagining two hot girls going at it.
It was a little confusing to her as well, thinking that his reaction should be something more... well, something at least more than huh. Her confusion let her words slip, “I’m not the one breaking hearts,” before she could stop it. But there was little heat to her words, a quick flinch of regret that she was the one who brought it up but it was the simple truth, and any heat that might have been there was replaced with quiet resignation. It lasted only a moment before she shook her head, focusing her attention on her things, like work.
“It’s... work,” she breathed a little laugh in spite of herself. “It’s fine. Boring as hell but it does its job, which is give me a job.” Papers and calls, there wasn’t anything glamorous about it and she turned the question back on him. “So what are you going to do while the casino pickings are slim?”
The jab made him frown, but because she’d brought it up and the whole subject was quickly just becoming the enormous pink elephant in the room. Were they really just going to bring it up and then sidestep it every single time? They’d avoided it for five years and after the party, maybe it was time to talk about it. At the very least, he owed her an actual apology, instead of the resigned quiet he’d given her as he signed the divorce papers. Kevin reached for her hand as she started to talk about work. “Tess, I- We never really talked about what happened and god knows I’m not one to talk about my feelings but. I owe you.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The sincerity was clear in his expression as he continued, “I’m so sorry for how I hurt you. I should’ve apologized right then, over and over, but I knew how badly I’d let you down. I couldn’t-” He shook his head. “You deserve so much better than me. Always have,” he said, warm and just a little sad. There was no denying how much he loved her, how much he always had and always would, but that love had changed after five years of being apart.
He’d never remarry again and likely would never be in a serious relationship, but she didn’t need to know that and he doubted that she cared. That doubt wasn’t from anything malicious, simply just because he didn’t think she gave him much thought for the past couple years. Why would she care all too much now? Still, he was glad for her reappearance in his life and if there was a way for them to move forward, he’d like that a hell of a lot. Admitting that to himself, honestly admitting it instead of dancing around it, was what did it, but he was too focused on Tess to notice that Harley was gone and someone new was in her place. Kevin let her hand go and turned his gaze to the wall in front of them. “Just laying low, looking around,” he finally answered her question about what he was doing.
Tess was quiet as she spoke, thumb idly rubbing circles into his hand as she listened. Her expression changed very little at his confession, smiling softly at some points, fading to blankness at others. The only real change were her eyes, green going progressively more watery as he talked though she kept blinking to keep them at bay. When he let her hand go it lingered near him for a moment before she slipped her arms under her knees, bending to press her chest to her legs as she curled up as best she could atop the running washing machine.
Five years of waiting for this moment, imagining how it would happen, and still she was unprepared for the quiet maelstrom of emotion she felt. She didn’t trust them, not when she was unable to pin down the exact names for them, too much hurt and sadness and anger and loss and love and an overwhelming sense of finality swirling together when she least expected them to. Today was laundry day, just another day, not a day for confessions. She had been so unprepared. So she pressed her lips firmly together, not ready to speak, as she stared at the wall too.
“That’s good,” she replied quietly, not trusting her voice yet for anything other than idle conversation. A tear on the opposite side of her face threatened to fall and she was glad he couldn’t see but blinked it back all the same. “Laying low, I mean. Here. No place more unassuming than this.”
It was emotional for him, to say all of that and give her what she deserved. He couldn’t change the past, but he could do his best to at least not make it worse. She wasn’t running him off with torches and pitchforks so that was a good sign, though she’d never really been the type for that. Kevin hadn’t been all that sure of what to expect after his apology, but he’d follow her lead. When she continued the conversation about work and what he was doing, he took that as a sign that she didn’t want to talk about it. Still, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders to give her a gentle squeeze before pressing a gentle, friendly kiss against her temple.
“Yea. It’s...it’ll work itself out,” he said, pulling away from her and folding his hands on his lap. He was content to just stay for as long as she wanted the company, but he didn’t want to push her.
She leaned in briefly, instinctively, as he gave her a one armed hug but as he pulled away she did too, feeling her arms tighten under her knees. A stray tear rolled down her cheek and she turned her head away with a snort, cursing herself silently as he talked and only turned back when she was sure it wouldn’t happen again.
“Right,” Tess agreed, though the word sounded so hollow to her ears. “It’ll work itself out.” The longer time ticked by the less stable her control over herself seemed, the colder the room was, the overwhelming sense of going seemed to mount. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. All those years and this wasn’t how she imagined how his apology would play out, not what he said or how he said it or how she reacted and certainly not how she felt about it. But things never seemed to go the way she wanted, never when Kevin was involved.
“Well, I, uh…” She took a deep sniffle as she jumped off her machine, distracting herself by dusting off her jean clad legs and smoothing back her hair. “It’s going,” her laundry and the machine, “so I should probably go.” She had grand plans of waiting for the cycle to finish but the need to leave trumped everything. Forget the magazine or his company or the worries someone would take her laundry out. “I’ll see you later, Kev,” she said though she didn’t look at him as she headed toward the exit. They were done here, so she’d go. That’s how it always was.
He didn’t stop her, didn’t reach out, didn’t go after her. He didn’t think she’d want that, so he let her go. It was hard to watch her go, but not as hard as it had been five years ago. She left, but Kevin stayed. When her laundry was done, he moved it to the drier and then slipped out, not wanting to run into her again but knowing she’d appreciate having a little extra time to collect herself. It was his fault he’d ran her off after all. He made note of the time, how much longer was left on the drier, and he came back to see if she’d gotten her things or not. If she hadn’t, he would fold everything and put it in her laundry bag, he decided. It wasn’t much, but it was just another way of apologizing.