Rae Darcy (paranoid_angel) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-10-20 19:27:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | #flashback |
I'm so in love that I acted insane
Who: Laurent and Rae
Where: Their apartment, Montreal
When: 1959
Warnings: Rae's temper and a broken-hearted boy >.>
The apartment was dead. It lacked movement, all save the clock, ticking down to D-day with every second. She hadn’t moved in twenty-three and a half minutes. There was no one around to fool, no point to her facade of humanity. She sat at the table, one palm flat on its wooden surface, the other stone in her lap. Her eyes focused on nothing, her mind was elsewhere.
The bastard had broken her heart. Now she was cold.
For his part, Laurent was completely unaware that he had done anything wrong. But then again, that was usually the case and when it happened he dealt with it. Tonight though he was in a good mood. It was extremely rare since his and Rae’s move to the States for him to come across one of his countrymen - or woman as the case this time was - and rarer still for them to be a vampire. That alone would have made Odette fascinating because Laurent missed his homeland occasionally, hence the move to Montreal, and he actually went and forgot about the fact that she was a woman and that spending time along with women had actually never led to anything good when Rae was part of the equation.
The apartment was silent when he walked in and for a moment Laurent thought that perhaps Rae had already gone to bed, or perhaps gone out in search of something to eat, but a few steps in and he saw her seated at the table. “Chérie,” he declared with a smile that faded perhaps a second later when he reached out and realized that there was a disturbing... lack of emotion emanating from her. Concern formed and he stepped forward. “Rae, are you alright?” She looked perfectly fine.
Those eye-twitching moments, those were the moments that told you something was lingering under the surface, waiting to tear out someone’s throat. Rae could not muster any sort of reason to consider whether it was Laurent’s throat, or his whore’s that she wanted to maim. The desire was there though. And so was Laurent. She felt her stillness shattered as her eyebrow flickered, daring to raise, to show emotion. She stopped it, instead inclined her head a fraction, as if to look at her eternal fiance. Her eyes stared at the spot they had been staring at for the past half an hour.
“Good evening?” she started, her breath catching at the tone of her voice. So even, so empty. She had barely noticed he had said anything.
Laurent had no idea what was going through Rae’s head. At all. At times like this he would have traded his empathic abilities, which he only rarely used, for telepathic ones in an instant. Just to know what she was thinking, why she looked like that and why he felt as though he was about to witness an explosion. A dangerous one. “Yes, it’s evening, I told you I was going to be out today and should be back not too long after sunset.” He could not count the number of times that he had seen Rae’s dreams but he had wanted to see what Odette dreamed of, and he had loved it. She dreamed of France as it was before all of the revolutions, when there were Kings and it had been beautiful. Dreams that Laurent wished he could have but sharing them was not too terribly bad. “Really, Rae, what’s wrong?” Even though it seemed like a bad idea he stepped closer and moved around so that he could see her face. Which was just about as empty as her voice.
It was probable that telepathy wouldn’t have helped Laurent, even Rae wasn’t certain what she was thinking. What she did know was a rising feeling of something that could bring no good was building in her from the pit of her stomach upwards, a terrible wave storming towards the shore.
You couldn’t keep energy like that contained.
“Enjoy yourself?” she asked suddenly, snapping her head around to look at him and rising to her feet. The shape of her expression felt angry but her voice was pleasant. Unnaturally so. “Hm?”
Angry and pleasant at the same time. That was never, ever a good thing and Laurent had to keep from taking just a step back. Whatever was bothering Rae was apparently something to do with him. Right? Maybe. If there was one thing he had learned in all the decades he had known her then it was that one could never predict her mood. Except he could feel it and it was making his own feelings start to tumble. Block it out, block it out. “Yes,” Laurent replied carefully, watching her just in case she did... something. What he did not know. “There’s a vampire from France in the city, her name’s Odette, and she’s from close to the same time as me.” She was older but not enough to make a terribly large difference in his mind. “I went to visit with her.” There was nothing wrong with that, a friendly visit between two people who understood the other’s yearning for home. “I stayed a little long because she dreams of France and you know I can’t.”
Her jaw clenched, blades sharpening themselves against each other. Something ripped inside her. Nothing physical. Nothing describable. She felt it though, and it was the end of her quiet.
She moved like a hurricane, swift across the room, table upturned in a sheer stab. Glass shattered in tandem with her screeching, claws crushing anything that could be reached. What was too far, or there was no satisfaction in crushing, she made into a projectile, tore the art from the walls and the piano from its legs.
She thought nothing, consumed by anger, by hate. When all that left unbroken was Laurent, she quieted, leant against the closest wall, forehead pressed beside the tatters of something that had once been beautiful and priceless, and cried.
Laurent decided that he was not going to move. Even his honed empathetic shield was being torn at by whatever was ripping through Rae and whatever was doing that was giving her reason to tear their apartment apart. Literally, she was like some sort of whirlwind and Laurent was certain that if he moved he would have ended up with something missing. Probably an arm or a leg and he needed those. And he still had no idea what was bothering Rae, but something was nagging in the corner of his mind - the part that was not staring at the destruction of their belongings - that he had definitely done something wrong.
Stepping carefully around broken shards of glass and vases, avoiding the table, Laurent stood several feet behind Rae. His fingers itched to reach for her but he remembered what had just happened. “Rae, I have no idea why you just destroyed our home but please, please stop crying.” That was one of the few things he had discovered he could not stand in the world; seeing Rae cry. “And for the love of god tell me what’s wrong.”
French whore. Rae opened her eyes and sniffed, the bloodworks ceasing as she did so. For a moment she debated wiping her eyes, but reconsidered and left the red stains running down her face. Pushing herself away from the wall with one hand, she swallowed and straightened up her clothes. Tear her fucking eyes out. Her dress was ruined. Her engagement ring still gleaming and intact. It looked wrong on her hand. Stab her back to hell. She took a step away from Laurent, frowning at it. She didn’t want it any more.
Now she was stepping away, face covered by bloody tears, and Laurent watched her look at her ring with a frown. His own eyebrows knit together and without thinking, something he usually tried to do a lot of around Rae because it usually led to less problems, he stepped forward and took that hand in his. He did not like how she was looking at her engagement ring, like it had no reason to be there. It has every reason. “Please talk to me.” It was actually a plead and he repeated himself in Italian, French and then the Spanish that he had taught her just so she did not have a repeat of their first meeting. “Tell me, chérie, you look like the world is ending.” Was it? Maybe he should have looked at the newspaper.
She watched him take her hand, made up her mind. Shrugging out of his hold and stepping back, Rae moved across the room and sought out a cloth from the kitchen they didn’t need. By the time her face was clean her hands were shaking and she was angry again. Only this time everything was already broken. She took a deep breath, mustering some calm, and took herself to the front door. With a jerk of her arm she had it open before looking back at Laurent.
“Enjoy life with your whore.” Then she left.
With his whore? What? Odette? She could not be talking about Odette because there was nothing there other than friendship and a bond created by a mutual longing for their homeland. Laurent did not even think of Odette in that way, he thought of Rae in that way, and Rae only. He may have been a flirt sometimes but he had never once thought of cheating on her. She was his eternal fiance and there was nothing else he had wanted. He watched her walk out with his jaw dropped, fingers flexing because he had no idea what was happening but whatever was happening Rae was walking out and everything was... ruined. He had to swallow a few times to make his throat work and then he called out for her. What’s happening? What’s going on? Where are you going? Why are you leaving me?
Her blood was boiling again by the time she reached the top of the stairs. Why was she leaving?! How dare he insult her like that. She couldn’t just leave it like this. Yanking the ring off her finger - she denied the empty feeling it left as soon as she removed it - she smashed her way back into the apartment, taking the front door of its hinges to get there. The ring, she found, was a most satisfying thing to throw at Laurent’s head but had gone before she could see the results, before he could see her cry again.
There went the door - but she was back and - Laurent yelped, hand going to his forehead where he had been struck by something small and... her ring? Something was tearing inside of him but he had no idea what it was because it had not happened before. “Rae?” But she was gone. He even went to the door and looked out and she was not there. Apparently something had triggered in her mind that convinced her that he had been doing improper things with another woman. “I just shared her dreams,” Laurent explained to the empty, messy apartment, picking up the remains of his favorite vase half-heartedly, fingers of one hand still clenched so tightly around the ring that he could feel it digging into his skin. “That...” He sank down onto the now-lopsided couch, eyes staring at but not seeing the wall on the other side of the room.
She was gone.