InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "...STOP STARING!!"

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

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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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.