Samuel Church š„ Ron Weasley (takemeto) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2020-01-11 12:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * terri, c: samuel church, c: tallulah waters |
WHO: Samuel Church & Tallulah Waters
WHEN: Saturday, January 11
WHERE: Miss Belle's
SUMMARY: Samuel Offers Cupcakes, Tallulah Offers Reconciliations
WARNINGS: None!
BINGO: Truth-Telling Session
Although inviting him back into her suite at Miss Belleās had been her own choice and she knew that Finnley was right - she did need closure - it was still difficult for Tallulah to not feel as though sheād been transported back to November all over again. Re-living the last few weeks of her life was not something she particularly wanted to do. Somehow, it had all spiraled until her world seemed to have a different, darker sort of glow about it. Nothing was rose gold anymore. It was all thrown in shades of deep grey and purple and red. She reminded herself to not bite the inside of her cheek, which had been much abused these last weeks, the urge to pace making her heart race. Instead, she did what Finnley had suggested. She settled into a chair and took a deep, even breath, and then two more. Five things that she could see...four things she could feel, three things she could hear, two things she could smell, one thing she could taste. She worked through the list quietly...her flat iron, the fish tank...the fabric of the chair beneath her hands, the softness of her sweater...the faint music from her radio...holiday scented lotion...the peppermint under her tongue. At least it was a quiet sort of day at the salon. Not many people were here, and it wouldnāt lend itself too terribly to gossip, which sheād had a belly full of recently. It maybe wasnāt the most neutral of spaces, but she had at least given him a choice...and he had chosen the suite. Maybe he didnāt want to ruin another spot in town in his memory either because sheād had difficulty going back to any of the places theyād been together previously. For her want of explaining and conversation, she didnāt know what she was even going to say when he arrived. She reminded herself that she didnāt...necessarily owe him more than a single apology, if that. An explanation, certainly, but she did not need to trip over herself with sorrows. Be direct. Be clear. She took another breath. Be honest. -- Even some two hours after the initial offering, Samuel still wasn't certain what had possessed him to send Tallulah a message. It had been innocent enough, perhaps- a picture of cupcakes and an offer to share, no strings attached. If anything, he'd have thought she'd say to drop them off at the salon for her to retrieve another day. That she actually wanted to see him wasā¦ Well, he didn't entirely know what. But he entered the salon, cupcake box in hand. A brief nod to the receptionist, but then he walked on past toward the suite that Tallulah occupied. Samuel knocked, twice, paused, and then entered. He didn't smile when he saw her. But his smiles were much harder to come by, these days. "Hello," he prayed his voice wouldn't crack, even as he stepped forward and held out the box for her to take. "These are for you." -- Though sheād seen him - just briefly - at the New Years party, Tallulah wasnāt quite prepared for the way that her chest seized up when that knock came on the door and he walked in. He certainly didnāt look happy to see her, not that she would have expected him to. She was probably lucky that heād agreed to meet with her at all, and...well, she supposed she should try to make this as quick and painless for the both of them as possible. She prayed that her knees wouldnāt give when she stood from that chair, and thankfully they held as she took that offered box, though as she held them in her hands, she admitted, āYou...didnāt have to bring these. I...appreciate them, even if I still donāt quite understand...why you offered them to me.ā Eye contact was maybe even harder than speaking at all, and she didnāt really manage it. Instead, she allowed herself another deep breath as she took that box and settled it onto the vanity top next to her styling station, āA...lot has happened in the last few weeks. None of it good. Except...well, except that I started seeing a therapist, and I know...I owe you more of an explanation than what I gave in November.ā Her words were halting, certainly, but she finally did look up, at least attempting to meet his gaze, āIf you want to sit, youāre welcome to, but...not unless you want to.ā -- "I justā¦ knew you liked them. I had to make extras, anyway, for my landlady. So I justā¦ thoughtā¦ of you." The thought finished aloud felt rather lame, but such was the truth. He did, at least, manage eye contact when Tallulah offered it. "Everyone deserves cupcakes." Samuel hesitated a moment, but then took a seat. That, at least, helped him to not feel so awkwardly tall, like he needed to shrink down to fit into this space that was all hers. "You don't owe me anything," Samuel insisted, though quietly. "I know that I made a mistake, and you had every right toā¦ to do and say what you did." -- She had all these echos in her mind of all the things that had happened and been said to her since that day, and it was a jumbled sort of mess. Little of it was comforting, and the fact that heād thought of her at all...kind of broke her heart a little bit more, if she was honest. She didnāt know that she believed she deserved cupcakes, but she didnāt outright argue either. That was not the point of this conversation. Tallulah sat down when he did, although in the styling chair rather than in a chair that was there beside his. There were at least partial truths to his words, and she nodded softly, āI know that...we both made mistakes, but I should have been more upfrontā¦clearer about what I wanted...or what I thought myself capable of giving. That wasnāt fair to you...for me to assume that my paltry initial warnings and self-deprecation were sufficient. For that, I really am sorry...because I truly never intended to hurt you, and I know that I did. I hurt both of us.ā She ran her palms against her jeans, letting out a slow breath, āI...donāt even really know where to start. I never talked about any of this, and I feel like all Iāve been doing is talking about it recently, and it hasnāt gotten any easierā¦ā Tallulah leaned forward a little, elbows against her thighs, āI very intentionally kept you at a distance emotionally. I thought...if I did that, I wouldnāt get hurt because my expectation is...that I will be left behind, eventually. It was neverā¦ā her throat tightened, and she shook her head softly, pushing through, āIt was never that I didnāt want to be close to you, Samuel. It wasnāt...that I didnāt want to be your girlfriend. It was that I wouldnāt allow myself those things. I told myself that you deserved someone who could be open and honest and communicative...and I wasnāt any of those things. I just never fully explained that to you, and thatās...probably what I regret most. God, I donāt know if any of this is making senseā¦ā -- Her words came all at once, it seemed, but Samuel did what he should have done the first time aroundā¦ He listened, and he waited. He let her words sink in, slowly, rather than jumping ahead to what he wanted or what he thought she needed. There were so many whys. But he kept those to himself. "We hurt each other." Samuel knew that he wasn't blameless, after all. "I didn't go into anything with you with the expectation that I'd leave you behind." And maybe she knew that, and maybe it didn't matter. Perception was reality, after all. "It wasā¦ hard for me not to get my emotions involved, tied up and twisted in you, in theā¦ the us I thought there was. But I suppose that says a lot about me, really, that I didn't realize how distant you wanted to be until it was too late." -- She listened when he spoke, and though his words did hold weight to her, she knew that there was a large part of that which was her fault as well. She admitted, āI wasnāt really great at being as distant as I thought I wanted to be, so Iām...not particularly surprised that you didnāt see it. I liked you a whole lot more than I intended to.ā Tallulah sat back a little in her chair then, though her heart still felt heavy, āI can admit that I created something of a self-fulfilling prophecy when it comes to being left behind. I pushed you to it, and if I hadnāt...maybe Iād have run eventually. I donāt know. But I did...I was going to try to explain back when it all first happened, but...I was too late. You were gone, and that...seemed clear enough at the time. I probably needed...more time to come to terms with all of it anyway.ā -- Gone? Not from the suite here, that day, butā¦ From Dunhaven, entirely, he supposed. She could have seen his post on Instagram, of course. He'd run. Everyone knew it. "Iā¦ I couldn't breathe here. Everything I saw, wherever I went, I saw you. Saw us." Samuel swallowed, then gave a shaky exhale. "I just wanted to be somewhere that no one would ask or- or feel sorry for me. Just for a little while." -- Tallulah understood that probably better than most people. After all, she had run too. She gave a small shrug, āI went white water kayaking in the Carolinas and left without telling anyone and almost didnāt come back. So you can say that I...basically did the same thing, just not with quite as much distance. It just took me a little longer to leave, but...I had plenty of reasons to go.ā She twisted her hands a little in her lap, āThe way that Mo said it, I didnāt think you were coming back, and I didnāt think that youād want anything to do with me when you did. Which would have been...and still is entirely fair.ā -- He'd seen that post, too, but Samuel thought it was probably better that he didn't mention it. A nod would be enough. "Mo?" Of course, he knew who Mo was- his sister's best friend was hard to ignore- but heā¦ wasn't entirely certain how she played into this. "I didn't talk to Mo about any of this. Hannah and Drew knew, butā¦ But none of them speak for me." -- āWithin a week...it seemed like everyone knew. Aria knew almost immediately, but at least she just tried to check on me. Mo and Halie...I couldnāt...turn around without someone calling me out,ā she shook her head softly, though she knew some of the original gossip had come from the salon itself. It was likely her fault for having that meeting here in the first place. āYou might want to tell Mo that,ā Tallulah said softly, though she didnāt particularly want to drag all of that back out and rehash it all over again. She had still decided moving forward was the path that was best for her. Mo might not be particularly repentant, but sheād at least gotten a punishment that had impacted something she actually cared about. -- Small towns with interconnected networks- digitally and otherwise- were perhaps always going to be rife with rumors and gossip. Still. "They shouldn't have done that. None of them. It had nothing to do with themā¦ With anyone but you and me. I- I know they all see me as some helpless kid, but I didn't ask for that, and I wouldn't have ever told them to punish you forā¦ for doing what you needed to do. I'm sorry." -- āYou donāt need to apologize for them,ā she assured him, shaking her head softly, āJust...wanted you to be aware, if you werenāt.ā It was, at least, nice to have confirmation that Samuel hadnāt been behind any of Moās harsh words. That softened the blow of them, even weeks after the fact. She fidgeted a little, though she knew that the biggest admission was still something she was holding tight to her chest. Perhaps it wouldnāt mean much to Samuel, but for Tallulah...acknowledging it was probably the hardest part of all of this, and she was still turning over in her mind how to even say the words, āI donāt want to take up too much of your time, but...if youāve got questionsā¦ā -- With that invitation, the questions flooded his mind, but Samuel couldn't bring any of them past his own lips. When he did open his mouth, a little laugh escaped, though it was mostly a self-deprecating one. "Only about a thousand, Tallulah-" Heā¦ He hadn't said her name aloud in weeks. Samuel fixed his gaze on his own lap, fingers playing with some small imperfection in the denim. ... kept you at a distance ā¦ left behind ā¦ wouldnāt allow myself those things ā¦ what I regret most ā¦ "C-could I have- have done it differently? If I- I hadn't called you my- would- would weā¦" -- She tried not to flinch at his laugh, as though it was directed at her. It didnāt seem to be, but...well, she had promised herself to listen and be patient and honest. His question was one that sheād thought about, and she still didnāt fully know the answer. It was hard to know how things might have turned out differently, but those words...they were going to happen at some point, āMaybe.ā The admission was quiet, but she shook her head softly, āItās hard to know for sure. If...weād approached that quietly, just between the two of us, I might not have...panicked, like I did. But I canāt give you a certain answer one way or another. I still would have had to have worked through all of this regardless. All of my choices go back to...a central reason.ā She did drop her gaze then because it was, in the moment, easier, āAlmost four years ago...my dad died.ā Just saying it seemed to wilt her a little, and her shoulders dropped as she gazed down at her own hands, āIt was sudden, and I...held onto a lot of hurt and anger and grief that I never let myself deal with. Iām trying to now. It was never really about anything you did wrong, Samuel. It was that I didnāt trust...myself or anyone else with my heart. Iām trying to...learn how again.ā -- As soon as he'd asked the question, Samuel knew it wasn't fair. No matter how often he'd thought it, since that day, there was really no use speculatingā¦ And she didn't owe him anything more than that simple maybe. Even that was generous. Though Tallulah insisted that he hadn't done anything wrong, that seemedā¦ too unlikely, in the end. But he didn't refute it aloud. Once she paused, though, he gave a quiet, simple nod. "I- I'm sure it's not easy. I'm sure it sucks, actually." He had no real frame of reference for that kind of loss. "But Iā¦ I hope that you learn to trust your own heart, in time. You deserve to." -- Although saying it sucked was putting it mildly, it was still true. It did suck. Tallulah had made a lot of mistakes since her fatherās death, and she had filled her life with activity and distraction to the point of making it feel as though she had everything she needed when she had given up on the idea of forming a meaningful relationship with someone. āThank you,ā she said softly, though she was glad, at least, that he hadnāt said he was sorry for her loss. Sheād had enough of that for a lifetime, āI hope...at least maybe thereās a little more clarity. I know it doesnāt really make up for the mistakes that were made, butā¦ā she shrugged her shoulders gently, āI hope it helps...that it makes it less difficult being back.ā -- "You don't have to make up for anything, Tallulah." This time, at least, her name didn't catch in his throat. "I- I do appreciate the clarity and the- the hearing your side of things. I-" He looked up again, managing to meet her eyes for a few seconds. "I don't know if it matters, or if you care to hear it, butā¦ I don't hold anything against you. And I forgive you. We- we both messed up. We both hurt. But we- we'll both learn, too." Hopefully. -- Hearing him say that he forgave her and didnāt hold it against her was...a big weight off of her shoulders, really. She wasnāt going to ask for forgiveness, but if he was willingly going to give it, neither was she going to shove it back in his face, āI actually really needed to hear that, so thank you.ā She still couldnāt quite smile, but Tallulah did find that her chest didnāt feel quite so tight, her anxiety was not as tightly wound, āI should have had more faith...given us both a better shot.ā -- Would he have liked it if things had gone differently? Of course. He'd imagined thousands of alternate ways their story might have ended- or might have not. But that was a twisted path of what-ifs and maybes, and it would only hurt them both. "Youā¦ did what you could, with what you had. That's enough, Tallulah. Like you said, this- this all would have come up, eventually. Just, now, maybe next time, you'll beā¦ be ready, if someone wants to give you a piece of their heart." -- That was one of the saddest parts of this whole ordeal, Tallulah thought. He really had been ready and tried to give her a piece of his heart, and sheād wanted to give him hers, but...couldnāt. Not then. Sheād missed her chance, and she still wasnāt certain at this juncture if she was really the kind of person that someone else could rely on regardless. āIt doesnāt feel like enough,ā she said with a small, sad smile, āHindsight, you know? Iād have done things differently, but thatās...a lesson learned, I guess.ā -- "We all would have." That was the point of hindsight, anyway, right? "One way or another. But you canā¦ can just do things differently in the future, instead." What that different would be, he didn't knowā¦ but it was her choice, in the end. "Make a happier future, Tallulah. That's the most important thing." -- Doing things differently in the future was going to be a must because she definitely didnāt like how all of this had made her feel. Sheād experienced a total breakdown and sheād been heading for another one in short time before sheād started seeing Finnley. None of this had been good or happy. Not since heād left anyway, āIāll try.ā She managed a small smile and admitted, āI was...happy when we spent time together, you know. That was real.ā Tallulah would not ask him to give her another chance, now or later. Forgiveness was one thing, but she thought that bridge was still smoldering ash, āDo you...want the fish back? They are yours. You bought and cared for them. I just...named them and helped out.ā -- Samuel looked down at his lap again. That was real. They'd shared so many smiles and laughs, little moments of joy and happiness that had been just for the two of them. Losing that had been, perhaps, the hardest part. Especially when he'd thought that it had all beenā¦ in his head. "It was," he offered, quietly. "I was happy, too." The past tense seemed especially far away, right now. "No," Samuel shook his head. "You can keep them. As long as they remind you ofā¦ of having something good." -- She hoped she hadnāt ruined too much of the town for him...that heād find a way back to happiness amongst those places that theyād enjoyed together this past fall. Tallulah found herself biting the inside of her cheek again, but she didnāt know what else she could say...what else she could tell him that might ease all of this. Tallulah didnāt want to say that the fish had often reminded her of losing something good instead. She should...probably try for the more optimistic view...to not let them draw her mind to the mistakes that sheād made, āIt was better than I allowed myself to hope for or thought that I deserved. So...yeah, something good.ā -- "You deserved it, Tallulah," Samuel insisted, looking up at her again. "Everyone deserves toā¦ to be cared for and to beā¦ be celebrated, even in small ways. To beā¦ to be someone's best part of the day, every day." Except then the tears really were threatening, and he hastily glanced up at the ceiling as if to stop them. A shaky exhale didn't much help, nor did the whispered, "Dammit." -- There was a part of her that wanted to tell him he didnāt have to be so nice to her, but that was...how Samuel was. He was kind and considerate and funny and easy to talk to. She twisted her hands together, knowing that sheād had...exactly what he said within her grasp and sheād squandered it. She let out a likewise thready breath and...in some poor attempt at comfort, she said, āI know...I blew my chance at that with you, but someone will...appreciate all of that like they should and give the same in return, all in equal measures. Theyāll be...very lucky to share all of that with you.ā -- It was a nice idea, really, and Samuel couldn't particularly fault her for the attempts at comfort. It was a nice idea, aā¦ fond hope to hold. Butā¦ "I'm not ready toā¦ to share anything like that withā¦ with anyone else, Tallulah. I don't know if I ever will be. I know I'm only nineteen, and I know that soundsā¦ stupid and hopeless and dramatic. But you were my chance, and I blew it." -- His confession wasnāt something she was entirely prepared to hear. She wished that maybe it was a little more comforting, but instead, she wondered if sheād...just ruined his chances at finding love. Sheād...regretted the choices sheād made and losing him since that day, but she still didnāt know exactly what she could promise him - anyone. Still, she couldnāt help but ask... āWhat if you didnāt? Blow it, I mean?ā -- Those words took him by surprise, and Samuel was struck rather speechless as he... just tried to process what she might mean by the sentiment. The last month and a half had been... full of doubts and reassessing what he had come to know, trying to determine a new way forward. "I'm... not sure what you mean, Tallulah." -- She needed to be...clear on this, and she knew that with utmost certainty, so she paused a moment before she spoke, trying to gather her thoughts, āI am obviously still...working on myself and sorting through the baggage that Iāve been carrying. Iāve been in a really unstable place while youāve been gone. Not...because of you, but because of all the little things that happened at the same time, most of which Iām sure you donāt know about.ā That much, at least, was true, āI...failed at keeping you at a distance, Samuel. As hard as I tried. It still all meant something to me, and since November, Iāve thought several times over that you were my shot at something real and I just...destroyed it because I was afraid.ā She shook her head softly, āIf you still...wanted me in your life in any capacity, I...would also like that.ā -- He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or... maybe both, if he could have managed that, too. Samuel hastily wiped his eyes, managing a shaky nod before he found his words again. "Yes, Tally. Tallulah," he corrected, just... in case. "I- I just... You were- you'd become my- my best friend, and I- losing that was... was the hardest part, for me." -- āTally is still good,ā she assured him. She didnāt hate her full name, no, but it felt...too formal in some instances, from some people. Nodding gently, she agreed, āYouād become my best friend, too.ā Of course, that stood differently from her friendship with Lorelei, who was also her sister, or Aria, whom she had bonded with over tragedy. It had just been...different, and sheād gotten quite used to talking to him every single day. It had always put a smile on her face. āI donāt know...what we can or want to try to salvage from it all, but...maybe until we figure that out, we can keep that...mostly to ourselves?ā she suggested hopefully, though she was quick to follow it, āI donāt want anyone speculating or...judging anything until we know...what it is ourselves.ā -- "That's... probably a good idea," Samuel gave a little nod. Tallulah had already mentioned how Mo and Halie had... done something, or otherwise saw fit to act and speak for him- and though he was definitely going to address that with them, he didn't want to give anyone else a chance to do something similar before he and Tally had... found some kind of normal again. Whatever that might be. Still, he... he felt like he should... "If you could salvage... any part of it, what... what would you want to, Tally?" -- She swallowed heavily when he asked what she would want to salvage because it felt unfair of her to even admit it. Still, she was supposed to be honest, right? āAll of it,ā she let out a slow breath, āExcept, you know, where I put up walls.ā She shook her head a little and did admit, āI donāt know that Iām ready for that now. But...maybe, eventually, if thatās what we both wanted.ā -- All of it. Samuel look down in his lap again, though there was the faintest hint of a smile this time. He knew it was far too soon to hope for anything, but the person he'd been last November was still inside him somewhere, and that person had been full of hope. "It is," he offered, quietly. "Iā¦ I know maybe I shouldn't say it, but if we'reā¦ if we're trying to be more honest about, well, everything, you should know that I-" He swallowed, exhaling yet another shaky breath. "I was in love with you, Tallulah. I was planning on telling you at Christmastime." He shook his head, his gaze still train downward. "I know it wasn't mutual, and I don't expect it to ever be. And that's okay. I just want my best friend back. If that can happen, that would be enough." -- She hadnāt been expecting that confession. Had she been in love with him? Fully and truly, no, probably not. Half-way...more than what sheād wanted herself to be? Probably. She hadnāt been willing to let herself fall. Did his words make her want to kiss him? More than they should. āWhat I felt...wasnāt just friendship, but I think...I could have loved you. With time,ā she gave a small shrug of her shoulders, but again...it all came back to her needing to overcome the barriers that sheād put up in the first place. This had been a harsh way to go about that task, but maybe it always would have taken something difficult. āI think...we can be friends. Or at least give it our best shot,ā she promised. -- There was every possibility that he'd come to regret having shared those words with her, but... there was no one else he could have told. No one else needed to know it, and maybe Tally didn't, either. But it felt right, at least right now, to have it out from that hollow in his chest that he'd carved out since November. "I'm in." He looked back up to her, chancing a small smile. "Best shots, Tallulah. At least we'll know we really tried." -- She didnāt really know exactly when sheād feel okay with telling the world that they were trying anything at all, even friendship, in case of the backlash that she might catch for it all over again, but they could take that one step at a time. She would do her best not to make him regret giving her a second shot at anything at all. āThat sounds good,ā she promised, mirroring his small smile, āThanks for...having this conversation with me.ā -- "You're welcome." Samuel rubbed his palms against his jeans, but then stood from the chair. He knew better than to outstay his welcome. Even if this hadn't gone... at all like he expected, he still wouldn't try to push his luck. "I hope you enjoy the cupcakes." -- Tallulah stood when he did, but she still didnāt approach him. It was probably too much now, to take up any physical space with one another, āThank you. Iām sure I will.ā She took a deep breath and managed a slightly bigger smile, āIāll...talk to you soon, yeah?ā -- Should he shake her hand? Offer a high five? Samuel didn't know. Instead, he just stood there another moment- once again feeling too tall and out of place. "We'll talk soon. I look forward to it." Best to make the first move, really. He was in her space. Taking a step back, Samuel turned on one heel, carefully opened the door, and slipped back out the same way he'd come. -- Tallulah didnāt try to stop him when he went, though this time it was with a much lighter heart. It might be a little awkward for a while, but hopefully they could find a new path that suited the both of them and repair at least their friendship. That was more than she had expected when sheād asked him here today, and she was grateful that sheād taken the advice to do so. Maybe it wasnāt closure exactly, but it was better than that. It was a chance to make amends. |