thea perkins đź—ˇ cyra noavek (cyra) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-02-07 21:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * kit, c: gareth stone, c: thea stone |
WHO: Â Gareth Stone & Thea Perkins
WHEN: Thursday, February 7, 2019; Evening
WHERE: Â Thea's Apartment (Pine Ridge)
SUMMARY: Gareth finds Thea's eviction notice, asks her again to move in with him, and she resists.
WARNINGS: None
BINGO PROMPT(S): Â Terrible Pick-Up Lines
Gareth and Thea had been dating for nearly four years now.  They were, so far as Gareth was concerned, each others' one and only.  They may not have been living together- not for any lack of trying, on his part- or married or engaged- by a distinct lack of trying, on his part- but Gareth still considered Thea to be his family.  It was an… odd balance, perhaps. He much preferred the nights that they spent together, of course- but then, he always felt more at ease when they were near one another. That had been true even before he'd known she was dreaming of Cyra Noavek, a woman he'd seen- touched, loved- in his own dreams where he was Akos Kereseth.  But they didn't spend every night together.  Thea had always been adamant about keeping her own place, her own space, separate from his.  Gareth didn't think he would have been a terribly unaccommodating housemate, all things considered, but every time he'd asked Thea to move in with him, she'd had half a dozen excuses at the ready.  He had… mostly stopped asking directly, though he still hinted around the idea from time to time. If for no other reason than the fact that they were more or less throwing money away, spending rent on two separate apartments when they could have quite easily combined households and incomes and… and… and those were all arguments he'd used- and failed with- before. Those things all set aside, tonight he was going over to Thea's place just, well, just because.  He didn't need more of a reason than that. He was coming straight from work, so he was still in his spa uniform- with Miss Belle's logo on the back, and his own name embroidered on the front pocket.  He had a key to Thea's apartment, so he didn't bother knocking- and, instead, just closed the door behind him as he called out- in a cheerful, sing-song voice, "Honey, I'm home!" -- Today had been a relatively good day for Thea. She’d been able to host her yoga class that morning without too much issue and then had volunteered some of her afternoon at her brother’s clinic, neither of which had been necessarily profitable. She refused to be paid for her help around the clinic and she had to rent out one of the buildings in the park during the colder months for her classes, so it had cost her more to host the class than she’d actually taken in from the few people who’d shown up for the class. She had quite the following on social media, but her unreliable schedule of classes made it hard for the people of Dunhaven to really commit to them. Still, Thea loved what she did and she loved that she’d been physically up to everything she’d accomplished that day, and wasn’t that more important than anything else? Even if her refrigerator was essentially empty and most of her money had been depleted that afternoon on another month’s supply of herbal supplements? She had learned to find pride and appreciation in the little things, the small accomplishments. Still, it had been a long day, too, and Thea had just stepped out of the bath she’d been soaking in long enough to prune the tips of her fingers when Gareth let himself in the front door. She smiled to herself and opened the door just a crack to yell out to him, “Be out in a minute! Make yourself comfortable!” When she finally emerged a few minutes, she was dressed in loose fitting pajama pants and her favorite baggy sweatshirt that had too many patched up holes in it because she couldn’t bear to part with it. She was still toweling off her hair as she walked into the living room and toward Gareth. “How was your day, babe?” -- Thea had asked him to pick up something for dinner, so Gareth had stopped at Wilkerson's for a meal takeaway, the sort of thing that you just threw together all in one skillet and let cook.  Minimal effort sounded like a good idea for now. Gareth had already started on that cooking- if it could even be called cooking, all things considered- when Thea emerged from her bedroom.  He smiled, letting the spatula rest against the side of the skillet, and turned to see her. "Not too bad. All established customers, so no surprises, which is what I like, really.  Yours? I see you didn't want to wait to share a bath," he added, playfully teasing. -- “That smells good,” Thea said as she slipped in beside Gareth, slipping her arms around his middle, towel dangling from her hand behind him. “Mine was good, too. I had a class this morning, but I cancelled the afternoon one because I didn’t have any attendees. But! I went over to the clinic for a bit, pet some good dogs. It was a good day.” Thea went up on her tiptoes to steal a kiss from him, and then stealing another for good measure. “And if you give my poor fingers a little while to return to normal, I am not at all against using more hot water after dinner,” she grinned. “Are you staying tonight?” She was fully aware of how this routine could be much simplified by taking Gareth up on his various offers for her to move in with him. If he knew how tenuous her situation really was, he probably would have done more than suggest the idea. But Thea liked having her independence, even if she was struggling to maintain it. She’d been dependent on others for the first part of her life thanks to the long recovery she’d had as a child, and then she’d been dependent on others because of the onset of her unyielding pain. She knew just how dependent she was on other people already and she needed this one small thing that she felt like she could do for herself. Of course, she wasn’t actually handling it all that well, behind on most bills that came in the mail every month, but that didn’t mean she was ready to let go of the illusion that she could take care of herself. Still, Thea knew she’d at least like the certainty that she and Gareth would always fall asleep together in the same place every night. She was just too stubborn to give into the temptation. “The bed’s got freshly-cleaned sheets on it, too,” she added, as though she needed to give him extra incentive.” -- "Why thank you. I opened the package and put it in the skillet my very own self." He said this with an air of pride, though it was mostly false. Gareth had leaned back down toward her to give over those stolen kisses, and he smiled to hear the description of her day. "I have it on good authority that all dogs are good dogs," he added, "but I'm glad to hear that, Thea." As to whether he was staying the night? "So long as the lady doth not protest." He quirked an eyebrow. "I'd like to, yes. Bath or not. You know how I love fresh laundry." The latter was sincere, even if it sounded odd. -- “See, I wasn’t sure if it was that, or that my brother just attracted the best boys to the clinic,” Thea replied, feigning contemplation. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.” Pulling the hand not holding the towel back from around his waist, Thea reached up and ran a fingertip over his arched brow, more as another excuse to touch him than anything else. “Actually, I was thinking a quiet night alone would be ideal, so I’m going to need you to clear out as soon as dinner’s ready,” she replied, but her poker face broke mere moments after delivering the line, and snorting back a laugh. “Yes, I want you to stay, despite the fact that I know how much you love laundry, you weirdo.” She dropped her hand his chest, and then reluctantly pulled away from him altogether as she moved to drape her towel over the washer before opening the cabinet to pull the last two plates down for their meal. Though Thea had lived in this apartment for a long while now, she hadn’t accumulated much in the way of practical things. The apartment was full of the little things that showed her personality and how much of a packrat she was, but things like plates and cups were in short supply. This was by design, though, because she liked to only use the bottom shelves of any of her cabinets to make everything easier to reach. “So what do you want to do tonight,” she asked as she grabbed silverware and distractedly set that and the plates out on the dining table half-covered in a week’s worth of mail. “We could put on a movie? Or anything that doesn’t require me to put real pants on. We can pull Monopoly out of the hall closet, but I’d like for us to still be dating tomorrow.” -- As she touched his eyebrow, Gareth tried to arch it even further, though it didn't quite work.  Still, he laughed at his own attempt, even if this sound was cut off by her erstwhile dismissal.  Luckily, the latter was soon clarified, too. "I may be a weirdo, but you're dating me," he offered, simply. One of the first times he'd been over to her apartment- years ago, now- Gareth had started to put away some of her dishes on the upper shelves of the cabinets, not even giving a second thought to the accessibility of that placement.  Now, though, he was used to Thea's preference- and he didn't begrudge her that, of course. (He kept a step-stool in his own kitchen for her. A small concession.) The food in the skillet seemed to be cooked through, so Gareth turned the heat off, gave the whole concoction a few extra turns with the spatula, and then carried the dish toward the table that Thea had been setting for their meal.  "Hot dish coming through," he warned. "And the food's warm, too." Grinning, he doled out healthy portions to both plates, then brought the skillet back to the kitchen before returning to the table once more. "I generally appreciate your lack of real pants," he mused, as he took his seat.  Reaching for a fork, he noticed a half-folded letter with large red text on it, but he didn't look too closely- it wasn't his place to pry.  "We can save the board games for a night when we team up and destroy someone else, instead. A movie would be good." -- “I don’t know what that says about me, except that I am absolutely a weirdo, too,” Thea laughed, slipping into her chair as she waited for Gareth to bring the food in and then dish it out. She never expected him to wait on her or do things for her--in fact, she was almost always adamantly against anyone going out of their way to do things that she could do for herself--but she’d long since learned that it was less about what she wanted, and more about letting the people who loved her do the things that they wanted to do sometimes. It was a difficult habit of hers to break, but she’d at least learned to graciously accept the nights when Gareth cooked for her, even if it was just dumping a ready-made bag of food into a skillet. She appreciated him. “And you’re so punny,” she added, rolling her eyes at his comment, but unable to hide the amusement on her face. She might have thought to move the pile of mail out of the way before they’d sat down, but it had already been there for a few days and she’d already grown used to the small pile. It hadn’t occurred to her that there might be anything there that she should have put away, mostly because the vast majority of it had already been forgotten, or willfully ignored. Still, she made an effort to push the pile further away with her arm, but really only accomplished making it worse, papers shifting and falling over from the effort. Oh, well. She’d tried. “We’re going to have to find someone other than Liam and Avery to play with, then,” she said, swallowing her first bite, “because destroying them would feel as bad as hating puppies. We’ll have to find people whose dreams I can live with crushing. Also, Mom brought me Roman Holiday, if that sounds good tonight.” -- There were nights that they cooked together, and some where she cooked for him.  Sometimes they went out, and sometimes they decided that nothing was better for dinner than two pints of ice cream.  It was a balance, a give-and-take. "You're not wrong there," Gareth agreed, shaking his head.  "Liam's the very definition of 'very good boy'." This was a tease, perhaps, though there was a truth to it.  "We need some more ruthless friends." Taking a bite of his food, Gareth nodded at the suggestion.  "A classic. I haven't-" But her motion of moving the pile of papers had drawn his attention again, and this time that red text came into focus more clearly. "The?"  (Her name wasn't very long, but sometimes he shortened it to just that first syllable.)  "What's that?" Gareth gestured to the letter with his fork. -- Too late, Thea made a grab for the letter she’d not necessarily forgotten was there but had chosen to pretend wasn’t there while she tried to find a workable solution. Her fingers snatched at it, the paper crinkling in her grip as she tossed it into the chair next to her and shrugged. She avoided his gaze even as her cheeks burned and she took to picking at her food again. “It’s nothing,” she said, though it was--clearly--something. Thea cleared her throat and the took a hasty bite for something to do. Then, mouth still half full, she tried to redirect back to their friend situation. “Don’t people penpal with prisoners? Seems a good starting pointing for finding ruthless friends.” -- Gareth had set his fork down, though Thea grabbed the letter before he could reach for it himself.  This was, more than likely, a decently significant breach of privacy, but... But if it said what he thought it said, it wasn't something to be tossed aside and ignored. "I'm not playing Monopoly with felons, Thea.  Are you being kicked out?" No segue needed, really.  He was going to get her to talk about it one way or another. -- “Well, I’m just not sure we’re going to find a middle ground. I’ve never met someone with mediocre ruthlessness,” Thea replied, clinging to the idea that she could keep the conversation from spiraling into where it was inevitably going. It headed that direction, anyway. She sighed and looked up at Gareth, feeling like she might as well have been telling her parents she’d been caught smoking pot beneath the bleachers at a home game or something. She could feel the inevitable Disappointment like it was a tangible thing. “I’m handling it, Gar. Don’t worry. It’s nothing. It’s just an opportunity to try something new. I didn’t like the leaky faucet in the bathroom, anyway. And it stays cold in here all the time.” -- Gareth wasn't sure if he wanted to scream or just bang his head against the nearest wall (or maybe just into his fresh plate of stir-fry).  He settled instead for raking his hands through his hair, eyes closing shut as he took several deep breaths, reminding himself to stay centered. He wasn't upset, not really.  He wasn't even disappointed. He just... wished she'd been more open about this, that maybe then they could have tackled it together.  Had she been planning on telling him, ever? Would he have shown up here one day to find that notice on the door and all her things moved out? Finally, he looked back to Thea.  His hair was a bit ruffled, but otherwise he felt... mostly better for having taken that moment to collect himself. "Thea, I don't want you to wind up in some... flop-house because you can't afford your rent.  Move in with me, alright? The faucets don't leak and you can keep the thermostat at whatever temperature you want.  Take the second bedroom and pay me rent, if it makes you feel better. But I've got to be better than getting evicted." -- The moment she had seen the eviction notice, she’d known at least two conversations would happen. One, her parents would tell her to move back in with them. And, two, Gareth would once again ask her to move in with him. She loved them for their concerns, and appreciated their willingness to help her, but she hadn’t told any of the three of them precisely because she’d wanted to avoid this conversation. “It’s not about you,” Thea started and then paused, trying to choose the words she actually meant. “It’s not, and has never been, about whether or not I think you’d be a better option than my other options or not, Gar. I’m just not ready to admit defeat.” She knew it wasn’t really like that. If she had her preference, she’d be able to spend every night with Gareth, always knowing he’d be there when she fell asleep, and the the pillow would still smell like him every morning when she woke up. The fact remained, though, that she wasn’t ready to make that a reality until she knew she was doing it because she wanted to, and not because she needed to. She knew it was harder to understand that when he and the rest of her family weren’t in her shoes, but it was important to her to know that she wasn’t completely dependent on someone else for everything, even if she had to be dependent for most things. -- "Why does it have to be about winning or losing?" And yes, it was true that he couldn't put himself into her mindset, not completely. He'd known- and loved- her for a very long time, though, and this conversation felt like an argument they might have had years ago. "And why," his voice softer now, "is choosing me the same as admitting defeat?" That, perhaps, wasn't a direct correlation from what she'd said, but it felt true, in that moment. -- “Because it just is,” Thea replied, with a huff. “I need a win, and I need to know I got it because I earned it.” She let her fork fall with a clatter against her plate, her head coming to rest between her hands. “You know this, though. I don’t know how else to explain the fact that I don’t want to have to be saved or fixed for once.” Lifting her head just enough to look at Gareth, she let her shoulders sag and the corners of her mouth tug downward. “It’s not the same, and that’s not fair, Gar. I love you more than you can possibly imagine, but I love me, too, and I need to see myself succeed. But if I move in with you, even if we say I’m going to pay you rent, we both know that you’re not going to push me for it if I fall behind and eventually I’m just going to be there, eating your food, sleeping in your bed, getting free massage therapy, and contributing nothing in return. If I could just get my classes going more regularly or, I don’t know, something...everything would be different.” -- "I'm not trying to save you or fix you, Thea," Gareth insisted. "You're not broken, for one, and I don't see a white horse or shining armor around anywhere, do you?" The delineation between his and hers sometimes drove him a bit bonkers. Yes, they were individuals, but surely they could have a bit more shared between them without putting a line down the middle to call it all 50/50. "Our food. Our bed." That much was easy to say. "I don't know how you can think that you'd be contributing nothing, though. It's not about money- and it's not about sex, either, before you go there." -- Thea knew it didn’t matter that she’d meant that she’d spent most of her life leading up to now being fixed and saved--that was how she was even here to begin with--because she knew his point remained the same. He made it all sound so easy, like she could just be there and everything would sort itself out. It didn’t feel easy, though. It felt like walls slowly closing in on her. “God, Gareth, I wasn’t planning on going there, anyway!” She replied as he kept going. She dropped her hands back to the table and pushed back in her chair. “I just don’t understand how something can be ours if you’re the only one supporting it,” she continued, shrugging. “I want to be able to help support whatever we make ours. So it is a little bit about money. It has to be.” -- He'd been about to stand, too- going over in his mind where he'd left his keys when he'd gotten here- but when Thea pushed back from the table, Gareth remained firmly planted. "Right. Yeah." Of course he was the only one who wanted it. He'd known that long before this dismal conversation. "Well, let me know where your new place is, yeah? I'd offer to help you move, but I don't want you to think that I'm supporting you too much." -- That stung. It was starting to feel less and less like the good day she’d told him it had been with each passing moment. “I’m sorry your feelings are hurt because I didn’t immediately say yes to your extremely romantic proposition,” Thea shot back, because the best way to meet defensiveness was to become defensive herself, right? She crossed her arms over her chest and took in a sharp breath, hating everything about this conversation, especially when they’d been more than fine fifteen minutes ago. The worst part was that she knew the only person she could really blame for it was herself. -- "Oh, don't even pretend that you care about it being romantic, Thea. I've done that, or don't you remember our second anniversary? Sunset walk along the riverside, me pouring my heart out to you? No?" It wasn't fair of him to bring it up, of course. That hadn't even been the only time he'd asked, before tonight. Really, he should have given it up- and he might have, if not for that letter. How backwards, really, that bad news delivered to her had given him hope, however brief. -- Throwing her hands out, Thea shook her head, and let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Have you been waiting to throw that back in my face, then? Because I thought we’d worked through that. I didn’t realize you thought I was so heartless.” Her eyes stung and she looked up at the ceiling, chewing on the inside of her cheek while she willed herself not to cry. She wanted to think it was just because she was frustrated, but she knew that wasn’t the case. -- "I never called you that, Thea." That much, at least, Gareth could attest to without hesitation, though his tone was- once again- resigned. He could tell that she was fighting back tears, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and assure her that none of it mattered, that they'd be fine, that she'd figure out a way through all of this, as she was so determined to do. But he stayed glued to his spot. "If you want me to go, I'll go," he offered, finally. "No questions asked." -- Thea let her gaze fall to the floor, chewing on her lip for a minute before she finally looked back at Gareth. She shook her head. And, then, knowing that wasn’t really an answer, she said, “I don’t want you to go.” It was the truest thing she’d said all evening. She never wanted him to go under the best circumstances, and she certainly didn’t want him to leave with things feeling the way they did right now. Voice quiet, she added, “If it came down to being just a simple choice between you and this stupid apartment, I’d choose you every time. I’d choose you over that Thai place we like to go to in the city, and old movies, and sweatpants, and even bath bombs. I’d choose you over all of that and so much more, Gar. None of this means anything to me without you.” -- He wanted it to be a simple choice. And maybe he'd never see how it wasn't. It was concerning, perhaps, that they held tight to such a fundamental difference, neither of them wanting to budge, yet neither able to convince the other. He… believed that she believed all that, anyway. "Then I'm not going, The," he offered, finally. "And I'm certainly not taking any of that other stuff away, either. I'd be lost without that Thai place." A pause. "And you." -- Taking a deep breath, Thea moved around the table to take the chair beside Gareth, reaching out to take a hand in hers. “Is it that important to you?” She pressed her lips together, not completely satisfied with how her question came out, then amended, “I mean, is us moving in together a thing that’s important to you in the same way that my independence is important to me?” -- That touch grounded him more than anything else had. And maybe that was the influence of their… someone elses, he didn't know. Gareth just squeezed her hand. "It is, but I don't see how it'll ever work, Thea. You see moving in with me as a loss, as a failure. That's no kind of ground to build a foundation on. If sharing a home with me means you don't feel comfortable or capable or independent, then consider the offers revoked." -- “Those things aren't mutually exclusive to me,” Thea protested, holding his hand closer, afraid to let him go. “I want a home with you, Gareth. I just want it to be solely because it's the right move for our relationship, and not a practical choice that's born from my own financial struggles. But I love you, and if this is that important to you, then I want to find a good middle ground. I'll put my yoga classes on the backburner and find something more stable, and I'll make moving in with you one of my immediate goals, right alongside financial independence. There is no end to what I will do to fight for myself, and for us.” -- Finding stable employment might be easier said than done, for- well, for the same reasons that her yoga classes didn't always go forward as planned.  But he wouldn't discourage her from trying. "I'm not asking you to stop fighting for yourself," Gareth offered, though the words sounded almost hollow, now.  He hadn't been seeking a win, per se, but somehow this still felt like a loss. "And if we're better living apart than together- if you're better that way- then that's how we'll stay."  They'd made it this far, that way, after all. Maybe that was how it should stay. -- “Just for now,” Thea insisted. She knew she'd said it before, that Gareth had no real reason to have faith in the impermanence of her reticence, but she meant it. She wanted everything with him, even in the moments when they were both too stubborn to see past their own wants. She loved him, and she wouldn't let herself lose him. “Let me fix this situation that I'm in. I promise you that I'll make what you need a priority, too. Can you trust me? Can you trust that we'll make this work?” She wanted him to say that he did but, in that moment, she wasn't confident that he would. Thea's greatest fear was that the people she loved would someday realize that she was too much work to be worth it and though she knew it was a self-imposed and unsubstantiated insecurity, she couldn't help the panic that had been slowly rising inside of her. -- "All I need is you, Thea.  And that Thai place," he added, hoping for at least a small bit of levity to the conversation.  Gareth didn't know that he'd ever stop wanting what he'd been asking for, these last two years, but if this conversation had taught him anything, it was that asking was certainly no longer appropriate.  And that was a lesson he probably ought to have learned some time ago, but hopefully better late than never. "We work just the way we are.  Nothing has to change, Thea." -- Thea wanted to believe that he really felt that way, that he could be happy and content with how things were until she was ready for the next step, but she wasn't sure that he did. What she did believe was that Gareth loved her enough to pretend like he could be and she had to wonder what it said about her that she felt like she couldn't compromise what she needed for him. She knew she loved him and wanted a future with him--that had never been a question--but maybe Gareth was and always would be a better, more selfless person than she was. With a small sigh, she stood add pulled herself into his lap, and his arm around her waist. Her fingertips brushed over his jawline before she clasped them together behind his neck and let her forehead rest against his. “Gareth, I don't know if I say this often enough, but I really, really, really love--” she paused for dramatic effect, brushing her nose against his, “--Thai food.” Things would change. She wanted them to change, but it felt like it might be better to put the conversation to bed until she was ready to back up her promises with real action. |