MY EMOTIONS. (allegs) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2012-12-30 15:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, ! plot: kidnapping, allegra hawke, caleb tate |
WHO: Caleb Tate & Allegra Hawke.
WHAT: Caleb Teat is a jackass.
WHEN: Saturday, 29 December, evening.
WHERE: Some bedroom in the Asia/Oceania Safe House.
WARNINGS: :(
STATUS: Complete.
She felt him before she saw him. Second-hand concern grew stronger and stronger as his feet padded along the hallway towards her room, drawing nearer. At last the door burst open. For almost two days straight, Allegra had watched doors open and close, open and close, prisoners and guards shuffling in and out -- occasionally Haddon or Vi returning or exiting for a break. This was the first time she'd felt excited to see a door open. "Hey," she greeted, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Hey,” Caleb replied, full of the concern she’d felt from a distance as he crossed the room to wrap his arms around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple before pulling away just far enough to look at her as he talked. “How are you, hun? How was it?” "Long. Tiring. Crazy." She sighed and leaned back into his chest, wanting an embrace more than she wanted to talk. "You?" “Fine,” he replied, trying his best to be as certain as he said it that he’d convince her. Sometimes dating an empath was more difficult than he’d really like. “Been mostly just waiting, trying to learn a few more powers, you know.” He pulled her into his lap and slid back on the bed to lean against the wall, genuinely glad for a little bit of time with her, even if it was overshadowed by her exhaustion, his concern and tension, and the general circumstances. “Missed you, though.” She'd cried when she returned last night -- after Vi had filled the interrogation room with fear pheromones -- and found him asleep. Her nerves were frayed and rattled and she was simply too tired to deal anymore. But now that he was here and conscious, her eyes were stubbornly dry. She preferred it this way. "Not fine," she noted, pulling back a little and frowning. "Please don't be evasive, I've been talking to evasive assholes for too long." “I’m not an asshole,” Caleb snapped, latching on to the part of the comment that wouldn’t require him to vocalize the anxiety he was still feeling from having been in a firefight the day before. “Did you really just try and compare me to a fucking kidnapper?” "I didn't call you one!" she returned incredulously. "What the hell is wrong with you?" “No, you just told me not to be an evasive asshole like the kidnappers you’ve been working with all day,” he said angrily, avoiding the question again. Part of him recognized he was being every bit the asshole she’d accused him of being, but more of him irrationally didn’t really care. “That’s nothing at all like calling me an evasive asshole and comparing me to the kidnappers. You’re right.” "I never said you were an asshole. I said I'd been dealing with too many evasive people lately," she shot back coldly as she stood up from his lap, breaking off the skin-to-skin contact that coursed his second-hand anger through her body. She folded her arms and glared down at him coldly. "I don't know why you're picking a fight with me when I've just got back from working and I'm tired and you know this because I texted you to tell you that I am NOT fine, but you'd better snap out of it or just fuck off already." As soon as she pulled away Caleb regretted snapping at her like he had, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to take it back. A heavy silence stretched between them before he finally broke it. “Sorry,” he said with a heavy sigh, and rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes, trying to figure out how to tell her what was going on with him - if he even could, and then gave up, looking at her again. It was easier to talk about her, anyway. “Why aren’t you fine, Ally?” "Forget it." Caleb shook his head, irritating bubbling up again, though at least one part of him wanted to keep it at bay. “Okay, Ally, fine. I mean, you don’t want to talk about what’s going on. That’s really shocking.” The irritation she could handle -- that was just an emotion. But the sarcastic barb? That cut. Hurt, she turned away from him, and snatched up a hoodie lying on the floor. "I take it back. I don't need anything from you." For the second time in two days, she stalked from the room, leaving the door to slam behind her as she left. |