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Alexandria "Circe" Wilkes-Gibbon ([info]ophic_bloodlust) wrote in [info]light_of_may,
@ 2010-09-23 18:35:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:2009-07-28

You said you'd call me tonight so I stayed at home, waiting by the phone
Who: Antonin and Circe
Where: Circe's home and Heme
When: REALLY early morning
What: A pissy snake and a pissed necromancer.

Circe never cooked for more than herself. Even when she was living with her husband, she'd never made him food. So, when she did go through the trouble of actually trying to figure out something to make that wasn't simply for her tastes and to her preference, she expected the other person to at least show up. As she sat in her dress and bare feet, Circe began with worry about what could have happened to him to prevent him from showing at the appropriate time...and then ending with annoyance at his not showing at the appropriate time. To pass the time and keep her mind off the fact that Antonin had not shown yet, Circe went into her bedroom to review some materials before she went into her shift later that day. By the time she was finished, it was past midnight and there was still no sign of the necromancer. Walking into her kitchen, she found that her dinner had gone stone cold and after spending fifteen minutes wrapping it all up and sticking it in the fridge, upon realizing he still wasn't there, she picked her phone up to give him an earful.

Curling up on her beige love seat, which was the centerpiece for her living room, she pushed her speed dial 2 and pressed the phone against her ear, listening to the ringing. She wondered what could be keeping him...he wasn't supposed to be at work. Then again, maybe there was an emergency. He could have called. She wondered if it was Zaviar. He still could have called. Maybe he was lying in a ditch somewhere. No. The ringing went on for a bit before his voice mail picked up. Scowling, Circe cut the call before redialing. Once. Twice. Thrice. Throwing her phone down on the coffee table, she paced for a little bit before she decided to shift into her natural form. The dress allowed for the transformation without too much trouble and she curled up in the middle of her living room and pouted. Reaching for her phone again, she was going to call one last time before she went to bed. She did have work in the morning. And if Antonin didn't want to speak with her, why on earth would she want to speak with him? Because I -- The line was ringing.


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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 02:19 am UTC (link)
Antonin had completely forgotten that he'd made any sort of a promise to be anywhere for anything that evening. At one point he'd known that he was going to go home and change before returning to Circe's but that'd been easy enough to forget with another shot. Several empty glasses were before him and he was currently staring through a glass of something. He wasn't sure what it was and his taste buds weren't really telling him anything so he was going to figure it out when his phone went off. Frowning, he fumbled in his pocket and brought it out. Circe. His instinct was to answer it because his muddled mind had suddenly remembered he was supposed to be there. But he didn't answer because he remembered why he was there. Because of her. Because Zaviar was right and she didn't really care about him past a convenient, useful toy. So he hadn't said those exact things but that was what it had turned into inside of his alcohol-clouded mind.

Three more times he had to resist answering and entertained himself by sifting through the minds of the vampires around him. Heme was wonderfully convenient for giving him a place to use his abilities, drunk or sober, though if he had too much more then he was probably going to do something stupid that ended with him kicked out or bleeding from his neck. And not in a good way. The phone had distracted him briefly but it'd stop ringing. She gives up so easily. That would've hurt if the alcohol wasn't doing a wonderful job of keeping him nice and numb to the world. Just like it was supposed to. But then the phone rang again and Antonin couldn't keep his hand from going out and picking it up, fumbling a little as he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

"You want something?" His voice was a little stirred and a little barbed. It was probably one of the only times he'd ever been truly upset with Circe and he couldn't just say hello, he couldn't, it wouldn't be right. Maybe he should've just let the voicemail have it again but he'd not seen another blink so she wasn't leaving him any message. She wanted to talk to him.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 03:09 am UTC (link)
Circe was luckily in a rather peaceful frame of mind. Or, at least, she was herself. The herself that wasn't about to rush out of her apartment in full lamia form so she could tear Antonin's throat out. Because, one, she wasn't stupid and didn't want to be turned into a pair of boots. And, two, she couldn't tear out Antonin's anything, no matter how many times she said it. It simply wasn't something that would feasibly cross her mind. She was about to give up and nurse her anger in bed when the ringing stopped and a voice that was Antonin's but didn't have his tone answered on the other line. You've been drinking, were the first words Circe intended on saying but she reconsidered. After all, an accusation wasn't about to be her greeting. Then again, he deserved it.

She ran a hand through her hair as she counted to ten. She got to four before she responded. "An excuse," she said coldly. He was supposed to be at her home, they were supposed to be having fun. They had been fine this morning. In fact, she'd had to send him home because she couldn't just sleep around him and she needed her rest for another 18-hour shift. She'd invited him to dinner because it would be a rare time they'd be able to considering he had the graveyard shift. And she worked during the day. It was one of those rare occasions where it worked and now he was screwing it up by going out drinking instead. She probably wouldn't have minded so much if he'd made up some stupid excuse and not shown. Instead of her having to wait for him.

She pursed her lips and waited for a response.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 03:53 am UTC (link)
Antonin laughed. Actually it was more a sort of mix between a laugh and a giggle but it didn't matter because it was a noise of amusement and it just slipped out. She wanted an excuse from him? Wasn't that just the richest thing that he'd ever heard! Zaviar's words were still echoing around in his head, reminding him of why he was here and not at her place. Because oh yeah, right, he was supposed to be at her place for dinner. Maybe that was why it'd been so easy to get drunk, because he hadn't eaten. Huh, imagine that. He really needed to start remembering these things every once in awhile before they actually happened. Eat before you drink and don't skip out on dates with women who could kill you just by taking a bite.

He didn't care right then. "I don't have one," he said, plucking at his drink and ignoring the passing thought from a vampire who thought it'd be nice to take a bite out of a drunk guy and get the residual buzz through his blood. No vamp really wanted to deal with his blood and should know to stay away unless the booze smell was getting so strong that it covered the smell of death. Circe likes that smell on me. "Had a little chat with Zaviar and he pointed out some things." His s's were a little drawn out and there wasn't a way to deny he was drunk. "'bout you. Why should I have dinner with someone who doesn't give a bloody damn about me?" Later he'd regret saying that. Maybe.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 04:13 am UTC (link)
Circe did not appreciate the laugh, she didn't appreciate it one bit. It wasn't even the fact that he was laughing at her, but because he was laughing when nothing was funny and she was being dead serious. The cold dinner in her fridge attested to that fact. She frowned and tried not to pitch a fit. It wouldn't do. She pulled the phone away from her ear and took a deep breath. She wasn't the type to be angry or throw a fit or even have a surge of great emotion. She was always calm and serene. She took a long, deep breath before placing the phone back against her ear in time to hear Zaviar pointed out some things. She'd successfully dispelled the rage, however, and even the name couldn't bring her to the same fire. It was like a switch for Circe sometimes. Eerily like a switch. Nestling her torso against her scales, she closed her eyes and listened.

It was her turn to laugh. "And so the truth comes out now, doesn't it, my Antonin? After you've told me time and time again that I have nothing to be concerned about with your other snakeling, when he's the only one I should ever have to worry about," Circe tried not to reflect upon the intense truth in her words. One big issue at a time. "All your silly declarations of love amount to nothing in the end, don't they? Because for all your love for me, you'd still rather listen to him and go drinking than come visit me and talk to me about all this. You're such a silly nitwit," she said, pulling the terms out from the deep recesses of her brain. She rarely had reason to accuse anyone of being stupid, she usually just broke their necks. "And you wonder why I doubt you when you say things like that."

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 04:28 am UTC (link)
The laugh cut off like it hadn't existed and Antonin very nearly growled when she laughed at him. She was always laughing at him and the things he said. Even drunk he could remember that. He'd always remember that. But he couldn't just let her say those things. This wasn't about Zaviar. It hadn't been about Zaviar at all (that he knew of) it was all about Circe and how she didn't care and he'd known she didn't for years. He just hadn't listened to any of the voices or thoughts that told him so. She was even sinking down to the point of calling him names. No one'd called him things like a nitwit since Madeleine'd slapped him upside the head after his mother's death. Drunk, that was the only way that Antonin could even entertain the notion that his mother was dead and buried and far past the point of resurrection even with his powers. Skeletons couldn't move with no muscles.

"It's not about him, it's about you," Antonin snapped off, taking the glass and finishing it, ignoring the burn it brought to his throat and the tears that sprung to his eyes. He was drinking the good stuff apparently. "We wouldn't talk. You'd call me silly and I'd look at you and it'd be bloody over, I'd forget why I was there and you wouldn't even have to face it. If I'm not there you do. Shocked you called though." Ouch, that still sort of hurt. "It's not about whether I love you, Circe. Hell, I can't even remember what it was like before I did. It's all about how you don't love me." The words were tight, like they were forced from his chest, and Antonin found it difficult to breathe for a moment. Good thing he was in a corner where no one would hear and even better that no one he knew was there to hear. What sort of man had fits over this? It was the perfect situation - a woman to sleep with and not ever worry about love getting in the way because she didn't love anything. Yet Antonin didn't want that. Right then he didn't know what he wanted past another round of whatever it was he'd just finished off.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 04:52 am UTC (link)
As far as Circe was concerned, Zaviar was like this annoying little worm in Antonin's ear, whispering poison and giving him all the wrong ideas. She'd be willing to talk. Sort of. Maybe. She tried to imagine what it would have been like if Antonin had come to dinner and then told her his fears. She couldn't. She didn't have the right amount of foresight. She uncoiled herself and draped her torso over the couch. This was why she didn't have a bed. The things were blood uncomfortable, but she liked the discomfort for the moment. It kept her focused. She frowned at his accusation, though, and then promptly shrugged it off. So what if she didn't love him? He loved her. And she allowed him to be a part of her life. She gave him all she had to give and like everyone in the world and their mother, they wanted more. He wanted more. Well, she couldn't give any more than what she had.

"Because I've never called you before when I wanted to talk," she said, hissing. "I've always got to have an agenda, a reason for calling you. Something dark and sinister and I need something from you for me to even want to speak to you, is that it? You think I'm so bloody cold that the only reason I keep you around is to satisfy some sort of perverse need I have? Well, fuck you. If all I wanted from you was simpering adoration and sex, I could get that from a thousand different places and then some. If I only wanted you for the smell, I'd sit in a fucking graveyard. I wouldn't have bothered finding you after I married, I would have been a good wife and stuck by my husband because the only time he ever hurt me was after I was with you," she said scornfully. If he was willing to take some shots at her, then she wasn't going to pussyfoot around the issue either. She didn't have to endure her husband's madness. All she'd needed to have done was stop seeing Antonin and all that would have gone away. But she hadn't.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 05:17 am UTC (link)
Sometimes she called just to talk, but usually it was to ask him over. To tell him Gibbon was gone, that she was alone, that she wanted to see him. But in all of her accusations he just heard the tone, the parts where she could get everything from something that wasn't him. That never once had she denied what he said. So it was true. He'd known it was true but he'd never had to look at it or think about it until Zaviar had made him. Why Zaviar'd decided to do it then he didn't know, but he didn't have the mind power capable of thinking about it. Or defending himself against Circe. Accusing he could do, but countering wasn't so up to his style.

"So then why didn't you do all that, hmmm?" he asked, waving at the bartender and then his drink, indicating that he needed to be topped of. The guy sighed but did it anyway. "You won't say you love me, because you don't, but you kept on with this whole mess despite what it did to you. Can't blame me for it 'cause I didn't go looking for you. I was fine with my girls, I'd be fine with them now. But no, your bloody self came looking and changed everything and I let it change 'cause I thought maybe it'd be... different than this." He wasn't supposed to be nearing the end of his short life and have nothing to show for it past a career and an affair with a married woman who couldn't even say the word love. Not in regards to him. His cloudy mind was tossing up the possibility that even Zaviar cared more than this. Cared enough to tell him about his delusions at the least. His vision wasn't blurring at thinking about years he was starting to think of as, for him, pretty wasted. It'd all just been something for Circe to keep her entertained or something. Things would proceed so much easier and simpler if he wasn't drunk. "If you're not that cold then why don't you prove it, huh? Why don't you prove him wrong? Or is that too much for you?"

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 05:36 am UTC (link)
In her defense, she couldn't very well call him when her husband was around. It would spark questions from her husband, who knew she didn't have much of a social life and while she could pretend it was Adam, the tone of voice would give her away. Her husband didn't like her talking to Adam either, anyway. He wanted it to be different. Circe sat up and watched as her tail flicked almost involuntarily. Wishing for what they had to be different was like wishing the sky was a different color. Everything they had ever done had led them up to this specific moment, as fate had prescribed. There was nothing to be done except deal with what they had now. Circe wasn't a dreamer. She didn't believe in wishful thinking. You wasted so much emotion doing that. You wish you hadn't made the mistake of marrying someone you thought you loved when all you wanted was to leave him for someone else. No, that wasted time and energy. It wasn't worth it. "I should have nothing to prove," she hissed into the phone before cutting the connection.

Sliding off the couch and onto the floor, Circe rolled onto her back and let the painful transformation back into human legs happen. She shut her eyes as her scales disappeared and were replaced by human skin. She stood and even if she was a little wobbly, she grabbed her keys off the desk and went down to her car. She had nothing to prove, absolutely nothing, but she wasn't about to let Antonin leave her without seeing that he was making a colossal mistake. And, if at the end of their conversation, he still wanted to leave her, then so be it. But he could not say she didn't try and that she didn't bother. Because she would have. It took her a while to realize there was more than one bar in town. Pressing her head against the seat, she closed her eyes and let herself wonder where he would be. Heme, the answer came quickly. He wasn't the type to go sulk in a normal human bar. He'd go where the vampires were. She sped out of the parking lot. If she didn't hurry, he'd probably go and annoy some vampire and get the shit beat out of him...or worse. She pushed the accelerator down a bit more, completely oblivious to the fact she was still barefoot.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 05:54 am UTC (link)
"But you do," Antonin informed his phone when the connection went dead, staring at it sort of blankly before swallowing half the glass that had been set in front of him in one gulp. Dropping the phone his head soon followed, forehead thudding on the table. He didn't groan at the dull throb of pain because he hardly felt it and because if he had felt it then he probably deserved it too. He'd upset Circe. To the point where she hung the phone up on him and left him alone to his drinking. When he'd said that he wanted something different what he'd meant was that he'd thought she'd care more. Be more of the person who'd come looking for him in the first place. But it'd changed because Ulysses had hurt her and he knew that. He just couldn't quite accept it.

"Hey man," it was a gruff voice and Antonin peeked up, the world swimming a little to find one of the bartenders. A vampire. "You need us to call you a taxi? You look about done for the night." Damn, he must have drunk a lot to be having the bartenders looking out for him. Antonin waved off his concern, snickering at the thoughts about how he was prime picking for the next hungry vampire, and climbed to his feet. Sure he weaved a little and needed to catch himself but he managed to keep himself erect.

"I'm fine," he informed the vampire in a bit of a slur. "Go back to work, I can find my own way to my sodding house." No, he wasn't going home. Not back to where Zaviar would be with his poisoned truth. The police station then. He could always pass out in his cubicle and explain it off the next day as something relating to a case at Heme or whatever. No one needed to know how drunk he'd gotten over a woman. A married woman. "Bloody hell," Antonin groaned when he stepped outside, rubbing at his head as his stomach objected to all of the moment. And, already being more than drunk and having been the reckless sort, Antonin started towards his car. He'd never driven drunk in his life, or even buzzed, but he didn't really care right then. He was going to die young anyhow. Circe didn't think she had anything to prove, didn't care for him past who knew what, and Zaviar could find another necromancer. Fumbling in his pockets, Antonin tried to find his keys.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 06:07 am UTC (link)
As Circe pulled into an empty spot in the parking lot, she finally realized that she hadn't any shoes on. Damn. While she didn't frequent them, she knew enough to be aware that there was a general no shirt, no shoes, no entry sort of deal with most clubs and she really wasn't in the mood to try and walk in there without any shoes on. Rolling down her window, she looked out at the women prowling the parking lot. Does no one wear anything under half a foot when it comes to heel length anymore? Cutting the engine, Circe walked over to a inebriated-looking woman by a red Ferrari. "Nice shoes," she said with a small smile. The woman looked at her with unfocused eyes before frowning.

"I told him I wasn't into that kinky stuff," she slurred, pushing away from the car. Circe stood in front of her.

"Oh, no, you just calm down," Circe said, looking into her eyes. "You can have your man all to yourself. I just want your shoes."

Sometimes, her powers were quite useful. As Circe walked away from the car, she carried the woman's shoes in her left hand. They were atrociously high and she could swear she was going to break a neck but she wasn't about to go home after driving all the way here. She had come to knock some sense into Antonin. Leaning against her car, she pulled the sandals on and realized she had calculated just about right. The shoes were a bit loose, but wearable. As she put the right one on, she caught a whiff of something in the air. Taking strides as long as her legs and the awkward things would let her, she followed the scent all the way to her necromancer. Damn. She could have saved herself the trouble with the shoes. Walking up to him, she discovered it was awkward almost being the same height and vowed to never, ever wear shoes like this again. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Circe rarely cursed with British slang but she did when she couldn't think of anything else to say. Taking his hand in both of hers, she wrenched his keys away from him.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 06:20 am UTC (link)
Antonin was just about to snap and swat at whoever dared to try and take something away from him when he turned and realized who it was. Wait, what? Had he drunk himself to the point where he was having delusions? Weird delusion too because he liked to think that if he imagined Circe she'd at least be smiling at him and wearing something a little more sensible than heels that made her nearly as tall as him. Didn't she dislike heels? They made walking harder and she didn't like her legs in the first place... looked nice though. Yes, he was focusing on the fact that Circe was wearing heels and not the fact that she was there. And clearly solid because she was holding his keys and a delusion couldn't have done that.

Focusing his slightly blurry eyes on Circe he blinked. Then he reached out and touched her shoulder - it only took two tries before he finally got it - just to reassure himself that she was really there. "I was going to the office," he said at last, still blinking at her. "To sleep. Kinda tired and already drank all they'll let me." He shook his head a little because there was something he needed to focus on here. No not the heels again, he'd looked at the heels and moved past the heels. Circe was in heels, big bloody deal, she was there. "You're in heels." Maybe he wasn't quite over it yet. "And here." There you go. "Why?"

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 06:31 am UTC (link)
"Are you mad?" Circe took a step back and wobbled on the needle points that she was supposed to be walking on. Really, women could be so stupid about fashion sometimes. It was also cold, something else Circe hadn't really felt while she was rushing around, but she was in no mood and in hardly the right attire to be out here trying to convince Antonin that...that what? She wasn't even entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing here. She tried to pocket his keys but realized her poor excuse for a dress didn't have anything like that. "You can't drive drunk," she said, completely ready for a 'you can't tell me what I can and can't do' bit of immaturity from Antonin. Never mind that, however, his life was far more important that being whined at. "You're going to sit down and sober up before I'm even letting you in the car."

The obvious solution, of course, was to take Antonin home and have him come back for his car in the morning or something of the sort. But she wasn't about to take him back to Zaviar and his poison and she wasn't about to bring him to her house either. Not until he begged for it. She had her pride. She ignored his nonsensical babbling about the shoes and simply tried to focus on standing straight in them. She seriously felt like her ankles could snap at any given moment. She touched his cheek and sighed as she looked into his unfocused eyes and at his flushed face. "You smell horrible," she said as she caught a whiff of stale alcohol on his clothes, on his face, on his everything. It was lucky that she could still smell him underneath all that or he'd have driven himself into a ditch.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 06:45 am UTC (link)
"Some people say so." Sometimes Antonin wondered if they were right. He raised dead things, convinced himself that his mother was still alive, kept his knife in a sheath around his ankle and had fallen in love with a lamia who was married to someone who wasn't him. "I don't want to sit down. I want to be... laying down." But not on the ground. The ground wasn't comfortable at all. But he wasn't going to be trying to get his keys away from Circe. She was quicker than him right then and she was also in heels. He didn't want to make her move and possibly hurt her ankles in the process. His eyes did close and he turned his face into her palm, sighing at the feel. Whatever he'd said and all of that he couldn't help himself when she was right there in front of him and she knew that. Had to know it. He'd never been good at hiding things like that.

"I smell like alcohol," Antonin replied simply. "Because I've been drinking it. To try and forget about you." He frowned a bit and pulled back, eyes focusing in a little on her face. "You didn't tell me why you're here. Can't be because you thought I was going to drive, never said I was doing that, just decided to do it before you showed up in those heels." Back to the shoes and his eyes went down to study them. "You should take them off before you hurt yourself."

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 06:55 am UTC (link)
"You can lie down in my car," Circe responded quickly at his complaint. Problem? Solution. It was just like medicine. Someone came in with an issue, you went and fixed it the best way you knew how. She smiled a little when he closed his eyes. Things were going to be okay, she assured herself. He wasn't about to leave her quite yet. She listened to him ramble for a few more minutes before she agreed with his statement. She really had to take them off. The prospect of walking on the concrete turned her stomach, though, because of all the nasty things people walked in, drove in and so on and so forth. She would rather risk snapping her ankles than walk through...who knows what in the parking lot. Added to the fact it was a bar's parking lot...she didn't even want to consider it.

She took his hand. "I'll take them off in my car," she said, fingers twining with his so he felt like it was an affectionate gesture instead of making him feel like she was pulling him along again. It wasn't her intention, but she did fully expect him to follow her to her car, where he would lie down and be quiet until he sobered up. She wondered if there was a coffee shop open this late in Scarlet Oak. Or at least a convenience store where she could get him some water to help the process. She tightened her grip. She wasn't about to let him accidentally end up somewhere else. "Come on," she tugged, trying to take him to her car.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 07:05 am UTC (link)
This wasn't what was supposed to be happening. Circe wasn't supposed to be there trying to take care of him. This wasn't what people did when they didn't care about you and Antonin had let himself be convinced it was true. She never said she cared or really showed affection outside of their little moments so it made sense that Zaviar was right. Antonin'd been guilty of harboring the same thoughts but they weren't holding up very well in his slightly fuzzy mind when Circe was being all... something. Taking him to her car, twining her fingers with his when they walked towards her car. Was she afraid of him going somewhere else? Was that maybe why she'd come to the bar? Because of what I said. It almost made sense, but it was a vague sort of half-formed thought that he let go almost right after it came to him. Just too hard to hold onto thoughts right then.

"Alright," he agreed, going along to slide into her car. Everything stopped spinning when he was sitting and he groaned, pressing his palm to the side of his head. He was going to get such a bad hangover off of this, he could tell before the drunk had even worn off that it was true. His mind was totally refusing to let go of something though so he turned towards Circe, pale eyes focusing in on her face. Such a beautiful face, his fingers twitched with the desire to just reach out and touch her. "Why'd you come here for me, Circe?"

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 07:19 am UTC (link)
Thank whoever for small favors. Antonin wasn't putting up a fight as she brought him along to her car. Unlocking it, she watched his head as she let him slide into the passenger's seat. Once he was in a proper sitting position, she put a knee on the seat beside him and leaned against the back of the seat. She pulled the lever and pushed against the back of the seat so that he was in a lying position, like he'd wanted. She was almost afraid it'd make him dizzy and throw up but it was a risk she was willing to take. As long as he was comfortable. Circe sighed and paused to look at him from their current position. "Because you're kind of hopeless," Circe responded with affection before giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Really hopeless."

Straightening up, she left his door ajar for ventilation before hobbling over to her side of the car. Once she was in the driver's seat, she plucked her shoes off, throwing them out into the parking lot. She would never, ever have a use for them again so there was no use keeping them. She wore sneakers to work and was barefoot around the house. And those two things were about the extent of her life. Well, and...she looked at Antonin. Leaning over the divide that separated them, she looked down at him before smoothing his lovely blond hair back and off his face. "Was all this really necessary?" she asked with a slight hint of exasperation in her voice. In her brain, there had been alcohol back at her place and he could have easily gotten drunk off his ass there. Then she wouldn't have had to come chasing after him. She leaned in to give his forehead a kiss.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 07:33 am UTC (link)
For a brief moment Antonin thought that the world was falling away and he nearly sat bolt upright, but his reactions were slowed and by the time they'd even thought about doing what he wanted he realized that the seat was just reclining. Because Circe'd moved it for him. And she kissed his forehead. "Hopeless?" Maybe he was. Because at the feel of her lips and the gentleness in her voice he couldn't help but start to forget what had bothered him. And if he could remember then it didn't even really seem to matter. He'd doubted that she cared at all for him and yet here she was, taking care of him despite his missing their dinner, not answering the phone and just accusing her from a bar instead of to her face. Antonin was, despite knowing that he'd been right, beginning to feel a little like an idiot.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Antonin replied, sighing at the feel of her fingers. He even lifted his face to nuzzle lightly at her hand. Didn't matter that not even an hour ago he'd been ready to tell her he never wanted to see her again because she wasn't worth the effort. How could I think that? How could I ever?? oh, right, Zaviar had done it. Opening his eyes he looked up at her for a few moments before his lips moved again. "Seems like a bloody stupid one now... I'm sorry you had to come out here, I didn't... think." Of course she had to have affection for him. There wasn't anyway that she couldn't feel something and come out here for him, not to mention the whole affair. Something was clearly wrong with his mind.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 08:00 am UTC (link)
She pulled away and watched him quietly. "Of course, you weren't," she said softly. If he had been thinking, then he'd obviously had seen that in her own way, she'd done just as much for their relationship as he had. She had simply done it in her own way. It didn't involve outward declarations of anything just silent cues that she had hoped Antonin would have picked up on. Except he didn't. Or Zaviar planted the seed of doubt in brain and made it grow into a disgusting, creeping vine of doubt and questions. She pulled away and sat up straight in her own seat, looking forward at the parking lot that was slowly beginning to empty.

Apology accepted, Circe said in her brain but like many things, she left it unsaid. She turned to look at him and wondered how long it would be until he was sober enough to go home. She refused to take him to his office to sober up, she didn't want to bring him back to Zaviar's house and she didn't feel like it would be right to bring him back to her place. Even if she had coffee and water and aspirin and all the things you'd need to get over a hangover. Again, there was that whole pride thing. She folded her hands in her lap and sat there, waiting for the alcohol to pass through Antonin's system. The silence didn't bother her. She'd lived with silence when she'd lived with her husband.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-24 08:35 am UTC (link)
Antonin didn't know how long he laid there, eyes closed again, waiting for the spinning and the floating feeling to stop. He'd never been all that prone to getting drunk easily, it took a lot, and if he wanted to stay drunk then he usually had to keep drinking. He had a really strong suspicion that the last thing he'd been given in the bar hadn't been anywhere near as strong as the first though, maybe containing no alcohol at all, but right then he didn't care. His mind was focused on breathing in and out and not letting his mouth open so that he couldn't say anything else that was idiotic and just likely to end with him apologizing yet again. Even if he'd been right in the first place and the apology should've come from Circe. It wouldn't. Not ever. She didn't apologize for things and certainly not to him.

After a time, when everything was beginning to think about returning to normal, Antonin opened his eyes again. But he didn't look over, he looked up at the roof of the car. Because words were bubbling up in his chest again and he knew it was only a matter of moments before they spilled out whether he wanted them to or not. And he really, really didn't want them to right then. "You don't love me, do you?" He cursed himself an idiot the moment he said it but still it was there, hanging in the air, and he turned his head to look at her. His eyes had done that thing they did when he was around the majority of the world and gone flat because if she said yes, said that he was right, then he didn't want her to see what that did. "I guess that's fine, I think I've known it for years... just never had anyone say it to me. Was a lot easier to not think about when I didn't have to hear it. Because I do love you, Circe, and I can't... even if you don't..." The flatness fled from his eyes. He was babbling and he knew it but his tongue wasn't listening to his brain. "I shouldn't ask for something I can't have, but I did, because even if he was right I still can't imagine myself with someone else. At all. Ever."

Truth.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-24 11:46 pm UTC (link)
Circe'd closed her eyes to rest a little bit as Antonin rested as well because she'd have to go into work later that day. She had drifted off into a light sleep when Antonin started speaking. She opened her eyes at his accusation. Casting a sideways glance at him and noting that he wasn't looking at her, she stared straight out into the parking lot, which only contained a dozen or so cars now. She twirled her fingers around the tips of her hair as he continued to ramble on. He loved her. That was cute. A rather wry smile twisted her facial features, Circe exhaled loudly and pulled her fingers from her hair, placing both hands on the steering wheel, running her pale fingers over the leather cover she had bought. It was cow, not snake, nothing to worry about. She thought about what she wanted to say for a second before saying it.

"Would that make you happy?" she whispered. "If I said I loved you? What does it even mean, love? My father said he loved my mother and then he disappeared and never came back. Love," she snorted. "You do know that for the first year of my marriage, that word was perpetually on my lips and his...we told each other we loved each other...but what did that amount to?" Circe's eyes narrowed and darkened like a storm. "I didn't understand what it meant then and I don't understand what it means now. The words mean nothing to me. He could have gotten on his knees in front of me and told me he loved me but that wouldn't have changed anything. Our marriage was over. If you find they are meaningful to you, then I don't want you to stop saying them but why on earth would you want me to tell you I love you when that would be the same as me remarking on the color of your shoes? I'm not going to belittle what we have by surrounding it with the words I used to describe my feelings for him," she looked at her rings. "That's the problem with everyone, I find. We feel a need to label things. Love. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Husband. Wife. Enemy. Friend. Just friends. Friends with benefits. No matter the label that's attached to our relationship, nothing changes. The feelings don't change. And for you to throw a fit because I won't indulge your delicate sensibilities and say meaningless things when I'm always here and I'm always showing you what I feel is completely disappointing."

Circe crossed her arms. She didn't love Antonin, no, she didn't. Love was another one of those fancy little labels people stuck onto things. I love this song, I love these flowers. Antonin was more than a song or a bouquet to her. Pointless, meaningless arrangement of letters and sounds that amount to nothing. It was why Circe was comfortable with silence. What someone did was a lot more important than what someone said. I'll cure your sickness. Circe never had to say it to a patient but she did cure them. Now, would the patient rather hear Circe say they were going to be cured or have her actually cure them. Food for thought, Antonin.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 12:15 am UTC (link)
This wasn't what Antonin wanted to hear. This wasn't what he'd actually wanted at all. He'd have been okay with just drinking himself into insensibility, passing out in his office and sulking to himself for a few days before contacting Circe again. Because he'd let Zaviar's words work their way right inside of his head and convince him of things. He'd never asked for Circe to tell him how she felt. He'd seen and felt it time and time again. When she'd realize he was seeing women, she'd gotten rid of them and just kissed him when he'd confronted her about it. Kept seeing him despite her husband. Sure he'd have rather she just got all ties to him and be done with it, but he'd agreed to take what he could get because he knew that he'd just wanted to have what he could of her. Ever since she'd flashed her fangs at him the first time he'd said hello and learned that he needed to stay out of her mind. Off-limits for telepaths.

"Not meaningless for some of us," Antonin pointed out, his last cling to the thing that had him there in the first place. Hearing that Circe'd told someone that she loved him, well, that dug in a little bit and he could practically hear Zaviar mocking him again. "But was that so hard to say? Just... I haven't asked for you to tell me anything since I met you, is it so bloody hard to entertain me just once and make me feel better? It's not easy when every time I look at you I see those sodding things on your fingers and remember that you're his. It's hard for you but it's not easy for me and I've got a little devil whispering in my ear and mind all these things." Sober, he needed to be sober. "I hate arguing with you. I never win." He was never right.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-25 01:05 am UTC (link)
It may not have been what he wanted to hear, but it was the truth. What was that saying? If you can't take the heat, then get out of the kitchen. Which was what Antonin was trying to do, wasn't it? Get out of the kitchen. And get away from her. She flattened her hands against the steering wheel before letting her hands drop down onto her lap. She'd continued seeing him when she'd been unable to simply leave her husband. She'd continued seeing him after he'd started hurting her because it was more important to have Antonin than anything. And if Antonin didn't understand that, then there was no point being together anymore. She wasn't going to waste her time any further with someone who didn't understand. Solitude wasn't too bad. She'd been alone most of her life and for more than that.

Turning her head, she looked at Antonin. She was a doctor. She knew when to cut her losses and to save what she could. "I love you. There, do you feel any better?" Circe said, mocking in her voice. "Did everything in your little world suddenly right itself?" She curled her hands into fists. She was tired, she was cranky and she wasn't about to spend the rest of her sleeping time to soothe Antonin's ruffled feathers when he was being completely unreasonable and quite ridiculous. She picked his keys up from where she had left them on her dash and threw them in Antonin's lap. "Listen to your devil and you can win this argument," she said coldly. "Get out of my car. I'm done."

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 01:33 am UTC (link)
It sort of hurt. It'd have hurt worse if he hadn't already numbed himself against anything. If you hadn't of called me and come out here then none of this would've happened. But she had. Circe had come looking for him and wasn't that enough? Why couldn't he just take it for what it was and leave it? "No, because you don't mean it. Never did, never will, so don't say it. Ever. I never want to hear you say it." Not with that mocking note to her voice that seemed more like it was meant to cut than to soothe. He'd rather have Zaviar yell at him every minute of every day than ever hear Circe say that again. He understood the point that Circe had made but he couldn't find a way to voice it. He'd tried but it'd come out wrong. Or she'd hear wrong. He'd been fine with what she had said and would've been more fine with it come morning.

Until she told him to get out and said that she was done. Antonin's blood ran cold and he sat up, fingers clutching at his keys before he looked at him with disbelief painted over his features. "You're done?" he echoed. "You can't be done with me." It'd be like a hole had been cut out of him. It was so ridiculous, so idiotic, for him to be pressing this issue. He'd never done it before and the only reason he was doing it now was because of Zaviar. Zaviar, Zaviar, Zaviar. No wonder Circe doesn't like him. Antonin couldn't think ill of him, not really, but right then he didn't think that he was all that fond of the other man and the ideas that he'd put in his head. Those ideas were destroying what Antonin'd worked harder at than anything in his life to keep together. Too short a life to have wasted on something that didn't mean so much to him. The clearer his mind got the more he realized that this was all idiotic, stupid, the dumbest thing he'd ever done and he had done a lot of dumb things in his life.

Antonin shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Circe, none of this should've happened. I don't care what Zaviar says or what anyone says, I just... I know what we have. I got carried away. I should'e just come over for dinner and not listened to anything he said." He wasn't getting out of the car and going to his own. He had a feeling that if he did that then he wasn't going to see Circe the same way again and he didn't want that to happen until he was dead. Which could be taken care of quickly. Plenty of vampires left here. They wouldn't take well to being played like puppets.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-25 02:10 am UTC (link)
She should have been glad with herself. She'd won this argument, to be placed in Antonin's terms. But, no, because none of it was a game or a competition to be 'won'. She never viewed anything in terms of winning things because that was how her husband had looked at things. He 'won' his prizes, just like he had 'won' her. She wasn't a thing to be won. This wasn't a game where someone could win. As far as she could see, they both lost. Well, Zaviar, she supposed won. In the grand scheme of things, he got Circe out of Antonin's life and Antonin was his forever and ever, just like the abominable snake wanted. Well, Circe wasn't going to fight him for it anymore. She was tired, she had a life she wanted to get to. She'd survived without Antonin fine and she'd go on surviving without him.

"Yes, I can," she said through clenched teeth. It was like having her scales removed one by one but she'd get through it. She'd been through more painful things. "I don't intend to spend the rest of my life arguing about semantics. I won't bring myself to say it again when I don't mean it but you'll always be needing me to say it. We're incompatible in that sense, I suppose, and it's not logical to stay together. Go find someone who'll tell you they love you just like you want. Hell, maybe Zaviar will do it for you. After all, you seem to pay very close attention to what he has to say," Circe was being a royal bitch and she was completely aware of this, but she had real fangs and metaphorical claws. And unlike her fangs, her claws were not as retractable.

She shook her head as well. "There's nothing wrong with you. It's completely normal to want to feel loved," she'd studied that in a medical journal and in university as part of an alternative healing class. "If you really knew what we had, you wouldn't have come here to get drunk instead of coming to me. If you really knew what we had, it wouldn't have been so easy to persuade you that I was only using you. You don't know what we have. And it's not my job to make you see that. So get out. Go home to your little snakeling. He seems to give you the right amount of love that you'd never doubt him." She really wasn't being fair here or sensitive, but like the word 'love,' one couldn't really expect either from Circe.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 02:44 am UTC (link)
Wait, people couldn't make mistakes? He couldn't make a mistake and go out drinking just once without it spelling the end of the world? She'd made a far bigger mistake than him and yet he'd overlooked it. He'd overlooked a lot of things to be with her and yet he did this. This one thing. This one time he listened to something he'd been told for years, something that'd just been building up, and yet he didn't get the chance to snap a little under it all? Was she deaf? Or she'd made her decision in her head and nothing he said could make it better. All because he'd made one stupid decision, done one stupid thing that could've been completely overlooked if Zaviar'd been right and she hadn't cared enough to call.

"You're deaf," Antonin informed her, and his pale eyes were suddenly dead. "I told you I don't ever want to hear it again. Damnit, why can't I make a mistake without the world ending? Huh? Because I'm not getting out to go home to my little snakeling. He's not mine." He'd listened to him. Like an idiot. "I came here because I was hurt. Did you see me staying at home with him? I had to get away from what he was saying and then I get... this. Well fuck you, Circe, if this is what you're doing just because I went out drinking one night then why did I give you a third of my life? And listen to you constantly spitting about how I care more about 'that little snake' when everyone knows it's you. Everyone but you knows that, you're proving it right now."

He should get out and leave, but his legs weren't listening. His body was shaking and he felt beads of sweat on his forehead, like what had happened when his mother died. He didn't want to go. So he just sat there, flat eyes focused on Circe, the flat not staying as long as he wanted because it couldn't when he looked at her. Even if she was mad at him and wanted him gone, claimed that she didn't want him anymore. "I'm mad at you, you're mad at me, still not leaving. This is what I've wanted since I was, what, twenty? Whenever it was I said hello to the pretty marble-faced girl. It's not gone just because I fucked up."

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-25 03:23 am UTC (link)
Circe was unforgiving and incredibly unreasonable when she was in a mood for it. She didn't enjoy being called names or swearing. It simply wasn't how she was raised. There was rarely ever any reason to swear and it simply wasn't in her nature. She flinched visibly when he dropped the f-bomb on her. She turned towards him and tried her best not to hiss at him. Her snake counterpart, the Inland Taipan usually avoids confrontation until it is provoked. Similarly, Circe avoided getting into a heated fight unless she was pushed into it. Taipans, however, are known for their deadly venomous bite. Circe was, too. In the literal and metaphorical sense. She narrowed her eyes until they were practically slits on her face and resisted all urge to get physical with Antonin. She'd never struck anyone in her life and was certain she wouldn't know how to if she even tried.

"If words were enough for me like they seem to be for you, I'd believe you in a heartbeat," Circe responded. "As it is, you came to America running after him and brought me along as an afterthought. I don't need your words telling me what I mean to you. I don't want your words. I could live in eternal silence. Words are empty decorative labels around real emotions, real actions and real people." It was the reason why he was only ever referred to as 'my husband'. He had ceased being a real person to her and was only a label, a piece of something she was forced to carry around. The being himself no longer mattered. Just the label. Antonin was more than a label. She turned away and stared into the parking lot. She wanted him to go.

If Circe were the kind to bring up the past and dangle it around, she could have easily metaphorical slapped Antonin with the fact that when she was being hurt, she hadn't gone anywhere. Her husband had managed to steal her away because he was everything Antonin wasn't at the time. She'd also needed a version of love before her husband had spoiled everything. Even when she'd wanted more from Antonin, she hadn't asked him for it, hadn't been angry with him about it. Even after her husband had started punishing her for it, she hadn't run away from Antonin and told him to stay away. She hadn't been mad at him for not being able to save her from her husband. But she wasn't about to bring any of that up. If he couldn't see it for himself, she wasn't the kind to use her own hurt against other people. "Perhaps you have this all wrong," she said softly, not looking at Antonin. "Perhaps what you really want is that girl you met when you were twenty. The girl that looked like me. But she's not me. She hasn't been me for a very long time. Get out of my car and go look for her elsewhere. You won't find her in here."

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 03:40 am UTC (link)
Antonin's head was going to explode. Into little tiny pieces and nothing he said was making it better. It either wasn't coming out like he wanted or Circe just wasn't listening to what he said. Just because she'd never acted like some sort of a human didn't mean he wasn't going to. He wasn't as strong as her when it came to that. He was strong in different ways, ways that kept him from killing her husband because he knew she didn't want him in jail. She hadn't been an afterthought, he'd known he could bring her from the moment he left, but as much as she preached things not needing to be said she didn't seem to accept it if it was coming from him. He had to say it and point out things if she didn't see it for herself or else she got mad. She went insane.

"You really are deaf," Antonin's voice was dull and he shook his head. It felt like something was breaking but he couldn't hear the sound, and he wondered if this was what glass felt like when it fell off a table. But he was still looking at her even if she wasn't looking at him anymore. Maybe he should've flinched when she'd glared but he hadn't, wondering for a brief moment if she was going to bite him. If he didn't die from his race's version of old age or a vampire then he knew it'd be because of her, whether she was the one who actually killed him or not. "And blind after all, or you'd see... I was there when you changed and I didn't go anywhere. I fell in love with Alexandria, but I continued to love and want Circe. Who I want isn't out there." Antonin motioned out the open door, wobbling a bit before he turned and pointed at Circe. "She's right here and I feel like broken glass must because she wants me gone." Vampires. They hate necromancers. Just go tell them what I am, prove it, black blood all over the floor and she'll never have to see it again. If his legs would just cooperate and move and his mouth would stop running then he could be gone and on his way into that early grave he'd always been promised.

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-25 03:55 am UTC (link)
Antonin's legs may have been malfunctioning for him but Circe's were fine. Or as fine as her legs could ever be. If he wasn't getting out of her car, then she was going to do it. She couldn't stand to be around him anymore. She simply wasn't going to sit around and let him shatter her being. She'd warned herself about leaving things on an open road to let Antonin steamroller his way over it. She wasn't going to let herself break again. It had been too much trouble to pick up the pieces the first time. Pushing her already open door open even wider, she stepped out of the car and into the muggy but chilly parking lot. Knowing her own body, she was going to catch her death of cold in her dress that wasn't much and her bare feet but she couldn't be in that car anymore. Antonin wasn't going to cover her in any more of his self-pity. It had been a bad idea to come out here and expect to reason with him when she already knew he was drunk. What on earth had she been trying to prove anyway?

The first few steps were almost painful as the concrete cut against feet that she took extremely good care of because of their sensitive nature. She'd left the car with nothing but her own self, leaving the keys in the ignition. Antonin could do whatever the hell he wanted with her car or his. All she wanted to do was go home and forget tonight ever happened. Like most things she didn't want to think about, this would simply sink into her being and she'd let it become a part of her and move on. There was no room for regrets in Circe's world. Everything was taken in stride and she kept right on walking. Head held high, she ignored the little stabs of pain the parking lot caused in her feet. She was going home. Single-track mind like Circe's, she was actually going to attempt it, too.

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 04:25 am UTC (link)
He should've let her walk away. That was what the smart person would do but this was Antonin and he was reckless. He'd been drinking in a vampire bar, he'd fallen for a lamia who was married to a probably insane man who did god knew what to her. Antonin didn't do what normal people would do and when his legs had been numb before they were moving of their own will and he was out of the car and after her. She couldn't walk on the ground. Her legs weren't the strongest to begin with and he doubted that she'd even walked on bare ground that wasn't sand, much less concrete.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and stepping in front of her. Sure the world was still spinning but he couldn't just - no matter what he'd thought or said he didn't think it was possible to just let her walk away. Because he knew she wouldn't come back. "Circe," his voice was playing at being steady but his face was doing that thing it always did when he looked at her and wasn't thinking about anything else. There wasn't anything else to think about. Because of Zaviar, because of him coming out and getting drunk, he hadn't seen how much it meant that Circe had called him, that she'd come out to look after him. That she cares. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry for what I said, what I did, that I came here instead of staying in London but I'm glad I got you away from him." Even if she left him then at least he'd managed that and could get rid of himself with the knowledge that she wouldn't get hurt by him again. Antonin couldn't breathe, his mind wasn't keeping up with everything and his legs were shaking, everything was shaking. "Stay with me, Circe, and I'll prove everything. I won't even go back there." Zaviar's house. Where the poisoned words were. he could still believe in a cause even if he didn't want to follow the leader blindly anymore. "Don't let go of me yet, I've still got years left."

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[info]ophic_bloodlust
2010-09-25 05:08 am UTC (link)
She heard him coming up behind her and almost expected the hand that grabbed her wrist. She wrenched herself free from his grasp as she grabbed her own wrist. She didn't like being bound by anything unless it was under very specific circumstances. She did listen to him, though, and tried to hold on to her indignation. But if Antonin was a pushover, so was she in so very many ways. I've still got years left. She didn't like being reminded of Antonin's limited mortality. Or of the fact that she would outlive him by an incredibly long time. Neither thoughts were comforting. She didn't cry as she didn't really know how to anymore but her face scrunched up anyway and she stepped up to him with anger in her eyes. Instead of striking him, however, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

She didn't cry and she didn't apologize. There were just some things that Circe had needed to learn to do without to preserve what she could of her sanity. Tears and apologies were two of them. "I wasn't going to leave you, idiot," she said, her words muffled against his shoulder. "I just wanted you to go so I could think. I wasn't asking you to leave forever," she continued to press her face into his shoulder. She sighed and fought the tiredness that was crawling into her brain. He'd said the words she'd wanted him to say since she'd heard about Zaviar. I won't even go back there. But just like she couldn't just leave her husband, she couldn't ask him to just leave Zaviar. The weresnake wouldn't like it. But they could talk about that another time. Right now, she just wanted to be with him. Stepping away from him, she slid her hand down to twine with his again. "Let's go home."

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[info]laughingatdeath
2010-09-25 06:02 am UTC (link)
Antonin didn't think that it seemed that way. What he'd heard and the vibe he'd been getting had said that he was going to end up alone after all that effort and those years. If it'd been anyone other than Circe then he'd have delved right into her mind to figure out the truth behind what she was thinking but he couldn't do that, not with her. Which was why it shocked him when her arms were around his neck, face buried in his shoulder. He let out a surprised breath of air before hugging her tightly, breathing in the scent of her like he'd been afraid he wasn't going to again. Yeah, the scent of booze ruined it a little, but it was still her and Antonin had been afraid he wasn't going to get to do this again.

"Go home," Antonin agreed, squeezing her hand lightly before turning them back towards the car. "Let's go home. I need some water." And to stop talking and just be with her and not think anymore. Because thinking was becoming a serious problem. Didn't matter. He had Circe and that meant he didn't have to go pick a fight with some violent vampire. Brilliant.

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