Emily Miliona (darkfacade) wrote in emillion, @ 2015-01-16 12:16:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | cormac hier, emily miliona |
Log: Decisions (Cormac & Emily)
Who: Cormac Hier & Emily Miliona
Where: Cormac's Home
When: Scorpio 27 (Nov. 19) [backdated]
What: Cormac's trouble with sleeping because a topic of discussion when Emily forces him to talk about it.
Rating: PG
Emily originally used white magic as a ruse to maintain her spotless image, but more recently she was finding it to be more useful than some of the other magic she learned. Apparently it wasn't enough to affect her sleep at first, but perhaps her restless sleep stemmed from the empty side of the bed and the lack of warmth where Cormac's body normally rested. It wasn't cold, which meant he'd been there at some point, but not warm enough to tell her he'd only recently stood up. Emily's eyes fluttered open at the sound of movement within the room. Her eyes shifted to the side to see a figure moving, hobbling was probably a better word for it. Raising off the pillow, she looked to Cormac who didn't seem so much drunk as he did tired. She knew with all the attacks that were becoming more frequent in occurrence. She also knew that it put a strain on her fiancee and the hours within the clinic were getting longer and longer. She'd been there more often too, even if Darius was more than capable of doing it all on his own if he wanted. "Cormac," she said sitting up only briefly before she was climbing out of the bed and coming toward him. Even if he told her to stay away, he knew it would stupid to say that. She was coming to help him, because in the end, only Cormac mattered. It was always that way, and even with her revenge against her parents, he was at the root of it. She'd kill for him. She did in a way. She'd do it again if necessary, though she'd never say this aloud to him. With the increase of frequency in the attacks of the city, Cormac had found it harder to sleep. The thing inside of him, inside of his mind--no, that would be foolish to think--inside of his body, would not let him rest. When he closed his eyes there were dreams of the disease he'd managed to cure so long ago cropping up again throughout the city, while the undead grabbed at him, dragging him down into the darkness. Always the same voice telling him there was nothing to be afraid of, but the dead didn't feel the effects of disease. They were already dead. Sleeping was out, so he thought he'd just do more work. There was always more work to be done. He'd hoped that Emily would be exhausted enough to rest like a rock in the bed that they shared, but she stirred. He let out a sigh, trying not to let the irritation overtake him. He was tired. So tired. He just wanted to get something done. It'd calm his nerves, but he knew she wouldn't stop fussing. So he stopped moving and allowed her to come near. "Sorry I woke you." Emily came closer to him and then looked him over. Not in a manner that involved a lot of touching and babying, but she could tell from the tiredness in his voice that something was off. He must have been exhausted, so why wasn't he sleeping? Maybe he was struggling as she was starting to, but this wasn't something new. She knew from nights spent there before that he would stir in the night at times. She only woke up occasionally to his movement but usually fell back asleep. She was awake now and couldn't sleep more. "I wasn't sleeping all that much," she said easily and then came to catch the look in his eyes, "But you haven't for some time . . . Cormac, you look like death." She didn't realize that her words were likely not going to receive a favorable response, but it was an honest observation. Fatigue mixed with something else. Strain? Her brow furrowed, "Did you have another nightmare?" Emily remembered one waking him before, but if he had anymore he'd kept it from her. She didn't expect a full report from him on every little thing that happened, but she did want to know if it was affecting him and if it had to do with that. The trauma of the plague that once ran rampant through the streets of the city and the madness that came with it never really went away. "I.." he took in a breath to settle himself. The exhale was more of a rattle than anything else. Cormac turned and took Emily's hands in his cold ones and looked really annoyed. "Emily," he said gently. "I need to tell you something." It wasn't that he doubted that she loved him or would do anything for him. It was actually the fact that she did and would that had caused him to keep his mouth shut. There was the idea of getting a drink first, but he was far too tired to procure a strong beverage. He wished he had more of a clear mind, but this was as good as it was going to get. He'd put it off for far too long. "I have a thing," he said eloquently. "I've had it for a while," he kept on as if attempting to try and find the right words to explain what was happening. "I have this creature inside of me. It's like a demon or something. I..inherited, I believe, after one of the battles. It doesn't bother me so much when I'm awake, but when I'm sleeping it shows me things." He let out a breath and this time it sounded like he was breathing out a heavy weight. Leaning back, he rested against the edge of a table. "It's been over a year and I thought I was handling it pretty well, but things keep getting worse around the city and it knows I'm tired. It keeps asking me to depend on it, but I've seen what it can do." Cormac wasn't a good man, not really, but he had people he needed to protect. Emily was one. Ridley was another. He couldn't allow that kind of thing loose when they were around. There might have been more he would have wanted to say. In fact, he believed he was forgetting everything, but he was tired and he’d said a lot already. It was just time to let her process. It had been since last November, hadn’t it? Only a year. It felt like ten. His hands were like ice. Emily's brow furrowed with concern and she looked at him, wondering what he had to say. Was there more that was going on? Was he dying of something? Or maybe it was something else entirely? She couldn't race though a thousand thoughts at once, but was just narrowing it down to possibilities. It wasn't until he spoke that she started getting a clearer picture of what ailed him and also that it was worse than something like a terminal disease. Not that she wished for him to have one though. It would be a cruel twist of fate for him to die like that and neither her nor Darius would be able to do something about it. "A thing," she said, "similar to the one that nearly tore Emillion asunder?" And if it was anything like that, it was tearing her fiancee apart from within. Emily didn't know what to say at first, so she said nothing. The plague had been a year prior which meant that he'd been keeping this from her for a year. She wondered how long it'd taken before he knew and decided not to tell anyone. "Then let's get married," she said, "tonight. Right at this moment." Emily was perfectly serious as well. Whatever was in him wasn't going to scare her away but she wasn't going to let him think that she would step away. If anything she wanted to be with him and not just as his fiancee, but his wife. And she would figure out a way to help him eject this parasite before it took the entire city with it. And more importantly, before it took Cormac. Cormac looked at the woman as if she'd lost her mind. "Married? I'm a walking death sentence." The sound of desperation in his voice was so foreign that he took a minute to come to the conclusion that he was the person the words had come from. "I know you've done so much for me, and I was hoping I'd be able to find a way to fight this creature, but it's not happening." He gave her hands a squeeze. "I'm going to stay here with this thing. This city is going to hell, so I feel like I can't leave as long as it's with me." He wouldn't pause for her to object. "I know you've done so much for us to be together, but I can't--" He paused trying to find the right words. No, he knew what to say. He had paused to gather up enough energy to say it. "I can't make you a widow." He meant to sound practical, but the words were very dramatic no matter how he pieced them together. She knew what he was thinking from the look he gave her. Surely, it sounded like she'd lost her mind because here he was saying he was dying and there she was saying that they should get married. Emily wasn't sentimental and wasn't doing this because of the idea of spending the last few months of his life that he believed were left. This was about marrying someone she lived and then doing everything in her power to rip whatever it was out of him and hopefully not at the cost of his life. Putting that into words and having Cormac understand that would be more difficult. "Idiot," she said, the insult coming out and not necessarily in a loving manner, she went on, "I understood every bloody word you said, and I'm saying we get married. My parents tried to tell me what to do and you don't get that privilege, no matter how much I love you. And you're not going to chase me away or act like not being together is somehow sparing me. You could die as my fiancee or you could die as my husband. I'd prefer the latter, thank you very much." She looked settled. Resolved. As if nothing Cormac could say would convince her that getting married now instead of never was a terrible idea. She reached out touch him, kissing his mouth and lingering there, "You're my fucking burden and if I have to spend whatever fortune I have in trying to find a way to save you, I will. This is your damn influence, you know. Wanting to save people that matter, and even those that don't. You're the only reason I came back and the only reason I ever cared in the first place. Just marry me." Cormac felt like he should've fought her harder, but she was right. He hated that she was right. He couldn't tell her to go. Well, he could, but she'd be a bitch about it and not listen. The kiss was not returned, but he didn't push her away. He didn't fight her, not when she had that look on her face. Not when she put that tone in her voice. Not when he was just so tired. He just closed his eyes and leaned into her, breathing in the smell of her as his face buried in the hair pooled at her neck. It was nice there. It was relaxing against her like that. Far too good for him, but if it would make her happy. He sighed. "Alright." It was settled. They were going to get married. Whatever wedding they planned both seriously and jokingly in idle conversations when she thought everything was fine were put aside. In the end, it was likely better this way. Just rip the band-aid off, or in this case, seal the deal. If they managed to make it through whatever, then they could do something nicer, but the time for those frivolities were past. Times were a changing and the luxury of wedding planning was no longer afforded to them by internal and external threats. "I'll wake Ridley and get Darius," she said, knowing they would be two people Cormac would want there. Emily couldn't think of a living soul she'd want there either. Her associations were all superficial and she kept them that way. Nothing she couldn't later apologize for and explain that it was a sudden thing and there was barely time to think let alone figure out a guest list. She held Cormac close to her for now, not yet moving to gather the needed people and items to do this. |