Alexandria "Circe" Wilkes-Gibbon (ophic_bloodlust) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-01-20 11:26:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | #flashback |
Yes, I would die for you, baby
Who: Antonin and Circe
When: events occur around 2004-2005
Where: The Gibbon House, London
Warning/s: Mostly SFW but iffy
Antonin had what he was beginning to view as a serious problem. Actually he had several but the most prominent at that exact moment as he was leaving his last class of the day was that he’d caught sight of the paper. A familiar face was pasted on the front along with something about tragedy, an allergic reaction and a torn out throat. Sure, people died all of the time and Antonin didn’t really care about it since he needed corpses to play with to keep himself alive but he couldn’t help but notice that every single girl he’d slept with since he’d come to the school ended up dead. It wasn’t some noticeable spree and other people still died in random ways but someone who paid close attention to death couldn’t help but notice. He just didn’t know why. Wasn’t like he was cursed or anything so there was no real reason for it to happen. And he’d, of course, scanned the minds of pretty much every person at the university. No one associated him with the deaths since he wasn’t ever dating the girls. It was something he probably should have addressed sooner, but sooner his mind had been clouded over in his long-lasting grief over his mother’s passing. No, she didn’t die, he reminded himself sharply, reaching up to rub at his eyes. But now that he was over that he could focus in on this and wonder why it was happening.
Or if perhaps he’d just noticed something that wasn’t there. Maybe he was unconsciously drawn to the girls who were about to die, guided by some weird sixth sense he didn’t have a name for... sighing he let his mind wander, touching and passing on so many of his classmates. None of them had a thought worth - wait, what? Turning, eyes wide he caught sight of yet another one of his problems, a rather major one lately even if she didn’t know it, passing not that far away. And she was thinking about... that isn’t even possible. But how would he know? Antonin hadn’t read that particular mind since he was told in no uncertain terms that he was to stay out. Now that he’d wandered in he didn’t particularly want to go back out. “Circe!” he called, slipping past a few people until he caught her near one of the emptier alleys leading between buildings. “Hey...” Tumbling thoughts, but a definite amusement at the sight of him and the memory of that girl (Antonin couldn’t remember her name) and how she’d died. Well. “Pleased with yourself, I imagine? Really, has it been you this whole bloody time?” Not a curse after all.
She had been particularly easy to get rid of. An allergy to peanuts and all that was required was a bit of peanut oil, some Chinese food to place in her fridge and a syringe from the lab. Nothing out of ordinary. Just a freak accident about a girl not knowing that there were peanuts in her food dying from an allergic reaction. It had been extreme fun watching her as her lips turned black and as she aided her own death by tearing out the flesh at her throat. It was so easy that she’d managed to convince Ulysses she’d only gone out for some air and that was why she missed his call. He was out of town on business again and it was lonely at the house, which left her with far too much time to plan out certain women’s deaths. It was like a hobby, even if she didn’t know any of their names. Just that they didn’t deserve him and his specialness and she had to get rid of them before they tainted him with their unworthiness. That was all.
Walking to class on her usual route, she picked this one purposefully because it allowed her to walk in peace without having to worry about being jostled by her classmates. She was still unsteady on her feet and having to fight through a crowd was bothersome and sometimes painful even if she was taking self-defense classes to help her cope with her weakness. Arms wrapped around her books, she smirked at the gossip topic on everyone’s lips. A dead girl. Right. As if that was so exciting. She even saw Antonin and her pleasure at her own murder danced in her mind. She stopped when he called her name and let him approach her. The rest of his greeting caused a scowl on her face. There was only one way he could have figured that out. Throwing her entire body weight against him, she pulled her knife out in one quick motion and pressed it against his throat. “I told you to stay out,” she hissed angrily, upset that he’d been in her mind and that he’d figured out her little secret. “If I wanted you to know something, I would tell you.”
Antonin saw the flash of a thought about what she was going to do but before he could react, truly unused to seeing anything from her, Circe had a blade against his neck. Which probably should’ve worried him a lot more than it did. Except not really since he knew that she wasn’t going to kill him. She doesn’t want me dead. He’d known that and didn’t need her thoughts to confirm it. Still, one of his hands went up to catch her wrist, not pulling it away but staying there. “You shouldn’t take that out unless you’re actually going to slit my throat,” he informed her, drumming his thumb against her the pulse beating not far beneath the thin layer of skin. Death and the possibility of it happening to him didn’t bother him. He was certain that she knew that. He was a necromancer and death was his playing field and he’d known since he was a child it’d come sooner for him than anyone else. Still.
Oh, look, her wedding rings. Antonin’s eyebrows knit together in a scowl at the sight of them. A problem that had occurred when he was paying hardly any attention to the world past fleeting moments. After a moment of staring he sighed and withdrew his mind, holding his free hand up as though in surrender. “Fine, it was an accident anyway, you were thinking too loudly. Question still stands. All of them, Circe? Bloody hell, what’d they do to you?” He hadn’t probed deeply into her mind, having heard what he wanted for the most part. The second part was that he really didn’t want to read her mind because he’d said that he wouldn’t. If she had a reason for what she was doing, and Antonin thought she must, then he didn’t know it.
Her books tumbled to the floor noisily as she pressed him against the side of a building. She curled her hands into fists as he grabbed her wrist and flicked her blade closed, not wanting to get caught on campus trying to kill someone. “How do you know I won’t?” she responded angrily, still raging at the invasion of her privacy. Not to mention that she was still fuming that he’d figured out she’d killed all those girls. She’d killed a couple before, when it had been convenient to get rid of Suresh’s women. And it was for the same reason. She pulled her wrist away, trying to free herself from his grip. She didn’t like being confined, not even by Antonin. Pressing her lips together, she considered her response before giving it.
“Yes, all of them,” she responded at length, voice cold. “What? Did you really care about any of them?” she asked, the slightest hint of jealousy coloring her voice. “They didn’t deserve you. Plain old humans with nothing to make them special. I would think you would have better taste, Antonin,” she said under her breath, hissing most of her words, unable to keep herself from doing so. She was upset and it was something she did when she was feeling extreme emotion. She didn’t really have a much better reason than that. Because, obviously, she’d gone and married someone else, so it was really none of her business who he slept with. She was simply pointing out that he was erroneously choosing partners and that he shouldn’t sully himself with their plainness.
Antonin didn’t think he’d ever been forced up against a wall by someone. Much less a girl who looked like her legs could be snapped in two by someone off the rugby team. It was actually interesting and his mind wandered a moment before snapping back to the present. Sure she was a little angry, that was to be expected, but he really didn’t think she’d kill him. “You’d have probably done it by now,” was all the reply he could offer. The point stood that, angry or not, he didn’t think Circe’d kill him. Not after she’d gone through the effort of ridding the campus of the women he slept with. Good thing it wasn’t some absurdly high number. My god, she’d never have time to get anything done.
“No,” the answer came a little quickly, causing him to blink at himself in addition to the hint of jealousy he was sure he heard. He could’ve said that they weren’t all humans, they weren’t and he was the telepath so he’d know, but he decided not to. He didn’t really believe her reason in the first place but he didn’t feel like picking every piece of it apart. Yet another reaosn he liked being able to just pick through most people’s minds, the answers were right there and he didn’t need to wait for them to get around to giving it. Instead he arched an eyebrow down at her. “I have wonderful taste, but the only bloody girl whose got my attention for longer than a night went off and married some prat when I was... incapable.” For lack of a better term. Antonin didn’t know what to call himself between the time he came to university and a few weeks ago and he didn’t care to take time digging around for the proper phrase. His grin appeared then, a self-mocking edge to it that felt almost odd to him. “Random birds seem as good an idea as any since I can’t find another snake.” Didn’t really want to either, but she didn’t have to know that. She’d probably just kill her, too.
She didn’t really have anything to say to that. Antonin had a point. If she had wanted to kill him, he’d be dead. It wasn’t terribly complicated. At least not for her. If there was an obstacle in the way, you simply got rid of it and moved on. At some point between the first time they’d met and this moment, Antonin had simply become one of those people Circe couldn’t willingly choose to kill unless they were trying to kill her first or something. At that point, she imagined all bets were off. Nevertheless, as it stood, he was perfectly right. She hadn’t killed him just yet which meant that she didn’t really intend on slitting his throat in the middle of campus. She never intended on slitting anyone’s throat in the middle of campus. It was messy and she would probably get into trouble. And she wanted to graduate and get her degree not spend the next fifteen years in prison. So Antonin was right on several counts. Not that she was ever going to admit it to him out loud and, if he knew what was good for him, he would stay out of her mind.
A self-satisfied smug look appeared on Circe’s face when he admitted that he didn’t really care about any of them but it was quickly replaced by a look of rather intense confusion at the rest of that statement. No, that wasn’t fair of him to say. Not at all. Curling her free hand into a fist, she struck at his chest, which was the easiest target. “That wasn’t fair at all,” she hissed, taking a step back as she tried to wrestle her hand free from his grasp again. “I wouldn’t imagine it’s this girl’s fault for marrying someone who actually showed her he cared and said he loved her.” No, she was completely within her rights to have married Ulysses. He had been perfectly wonderful to her and had not sent her all sorts of mixed up and confusing signals like Antonin had. And she wasn’t about to wait forever on a dream. Besides, being with Antonin would have been like setting herself up for heartbreak. She could only foresee tears with the necromancer. And her oracles had told her to marry. “Fine, whatever, go and have fun with your random birds. I don’t give a damn anymore,” she snapped at him. It was the first time in a long time she had ever been angry at anything or anyone. She was always so collected but she hated it when he invaded her mind. Yes, that was it. She was mad because he had been in her head.
Smug. Antonin was desperately curious to probe into Circe’s mind and see just why that look flashed across her face but no, no he’d promised to stay out and Antonin always did his best to keep his promises. But bit by bit it sank into his head. Ulysses - that was the git’s name, right? He knew it was something ridiculous just like he knew that the bleeder was from America and that he didn’t like him at all and yes, it completely had to do with the fact that he had married Circe - had done things Antonin couldn’t. Things that had been beyond him simply because of his state of mind, the guilt that had been eating at him over his mother. His cousin had slapped him out of his depression but she hadn’t gotten rid of the guilt, it’d taken time. Antonin hadn’t known how to explain that and he’d been, well, blinded by it to anything that might have mattered. Like Circe. Oh he hadn’t been blind to her, she hadn’t wandered too terribly far from his mind since that day in the courtyard when her blade had pressed against his wrist, and clearly he’d cared since he’d never dreamed of thinking of her like any of the girls she’d had no problem getting rid of.
“Not her fault,” Antonin agreed. He hadn’t let go of Circe’s wrist yet, unwilling to admit even to himself that he was afraid she’d run off. “His fault for being so tied up in himself he didn’t think or realize he could lose something.” Really, if Antonin thought about it then he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Circe finding someone else. From the start he’d known there was something there and in some foolish way he’d thought that maybe - thoughts of an idiot tangled in his own loss. And he didn’t need to read her thoughts to know that she didn’t mean that. She was angry, it was practically rolling off her. Or maybe it’d have been mild if coming from anyone else but for someone who never seemed to get that way it was noticeable. “I think I’ve rather lost my appetite for them, actually. I’ve had a problem for a few weeks, see, ever since I came back from a visit to Manchester.” His home. “An enlightenment. One I’m really wishing would have come about a year ago when I could have done something to stop you from marrying him. I’m sorry, Circe, I was such a bloody idiot.”
It wasn’t like Circe hadn’t harbored dreams of getting married and having children like her mother had wanted her to. It simply hadn’t been the case that she had met another lamia that could fill that role. Ulysses was human...he was telekinetic, which made him extremely fragile but Circe had chosen to be with him because he’d done everything one was supposed to do when one was trying to court someone. He’d been a proper gentleman and even asked to meet her mother, which Circe hadn’t thought was a good idea. At all. And then Suresh had decided he was going to be a git and...no, Circe wasn’t going to think about that. This was about Antonin and her and the fact that he was ages too late to be telling her these things. She’d gone and killed all the girls he’d slept with but that didn’t really mean much in Circe’s head. It was a necessary thing that he not be associated with such girls and they had been fun to kill anyway.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him, withdrawing back into her shell. It was safe in there. “I married someone and there isn’t anything you can say that can change that. Not even if you apologized a million times for something that...isn’t something you could have changed. Ulysses and I were meant to happen. Because if it hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have met him while you were off doing something else,” she told him. It was that simple. If she and Antonin had been meant for each other, Ulysses would never have come to the picture or she’d have met Antonin when he was ready to commit. Instead, Antonin had never told her what she needed to hear and Ulysses had been right there to be there for her. Everything had simply fallen into place and her bones had told her that she was supposed to marry. It worked out. “Let me go, Antonin,” she said sternly, twisting her wrist around again. “Yes, I killed your little girls but it doesn’t mean anything. I did the same for my brother when I didn’t think he was dating the right girls.” The statement was true, even if she had killed Suresh’s girls for different reasons than Antonin’s. He didn’t have to know that, however, and she was happily married to someone else. Looking up at Antonin, she shrugged. “Whatever, mate, what’s done is done. I promise I won’t kill your next bird if it’ll make you happy. Now let go of me.”
It wasn’t like Antonin hadn’t had reasons of his own. He had. Good reasons. They’d just been far too in the way. He could blame it all on Ulysses and not seeing the danger the man presented with his ready words. But it was all a matter of if and timing and it’d all been wrong. Antonin knew that. Knew that he couldn’t change time or how he had felt about everything either. My punishment, a quiet voice in his brain chirped. For what had happened to his mother. His punishment was this. I paid my dues. Two years. His mother wouldn’t ask for anything more of him than that. Of course Antonin was aware that Circe had her life; her husband, but he was finding it remarkably hard to actually care about that. Maybe it would have been easier if there hadn’t been that smug look, if she hadn’t sounded so pleased in her mind about the death, if there was more conviction to her words. A thousand more if’s.
“What if I apologize a million and one times?” Antonin asked, stepping back in so it was easier to keep his grip, and so his back was no longer against a wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a voice screaming at him that this wasn’t what people did. It sounded strangely like his cousin but then, wasn’t he a taint to the human race anyhow with his black blood and unnatural abilities? Their rules existed and then there were the rules that he’d created for himself. If society - and by society, he meant his maternal family - rejected him then their rules had no power over his life. If Circe really wanted to leave then he’d let her, couldn’t really stop her, but just like there was a voice telling him he shouldn’t do this there was a louder one pointing to all of the reasons why he should. “Or confessed that I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since you flashed your fangs at me and told me to stay out of your mind?” He licked his lips, trying to wet them because at some point his mouth had gone dry. His free hand came up to hover just over her cheek, only just touching it when he leaned in until there was hardly any space there. “I’ve been in love with you since then, I just didn’t... couldn’t say it.” And before he lost his nerve, not that he recalled that ever happening, he pressed his lips against hers.
She had tried to keep Antonin out of her life and away from her when they first met because she had been completely satisfied only having her family and what lamia community they could find around. She was supposed to marry a good lamia boy and have more snakelings. Antonin had forced himself into her life without her consent and he’d just kind of lumbered in without invitation. Despite her own sensibilities (or lack thereof), she’d allowed him to become a friend as she wondered why he had picked her out of the several other girls at their university. She had decided her conclusion had been off, however, when he never made a move to change the direction of the relationship. And, when Ulysses came around with his charm and promises, she’d let him woo her because it was something that Antonin couldn’t provide. She’d made her decision. And it was completely unfair of Antonin to now turn that around on her and force her to seemingly choose between her husband and him. She’d chosen. Already.
“You sure had a funny way of showing it,” she responded coldly before he kissed her. This isn’t fair. She stood suspended in time as she fought against the instincts inside her willing her to kiss him back. She didn’t love him, she loved Ulysses and that was that. Pulling away, Circe stumbled backwards, losing her balance for a short while. “You stay away from me, necromancer,” she warned and raised a hand to keep him away. “Even if you couldn’t make a decision, I made one,” she said, taking a deep breath. Her head swam as she realized Ulysses didn’t even make her feel anywhere near like this. Nevertheless, she had made a promise and she stuck by her promises. She loved her husband. Antonin was something of a past. A silly little girlhood crush that she’d had and that was all this was. It was some illusion of a feeling gone. “Don’t come near me anymore, Antonin,” she muttered before turning on her heel to walk away, books forgotten on the floor.
Antonin felt that. Circe didn’t pull away the moment that he kissed her and he was certain for a moment that she was going to kiss him back. A feeling was soaring up in his chest but it crashed down a moment later when she told him to stay away. Little cracks were spreading out somewhere inside of him and he just looked at her with wide eyes. Last time his eyes had been that wide was certainly when Madeleine had come to slap him out of his depression. It felt remarkably similar to being slapped though. See, that voice taunted. Everything almost felt like it was happening in slow motion, Circe’s words a buzz in his ears. She only did it for the fun of it, she doesn’t care anything for you and she never did because women don’t. Somehow they know what you did and they can’t...
His eyes went to the ground as she turned, seeing the books and before he could think he leaned over to pick them up. A few steps was enough to catch up to her and he stepped around in front of her to block her path. “You... forgot your books,” he said quietly as he held them out towards her. “Didn’t want you to lose them.” No, it wasn’t possible for him to just watch her walk away from him when he couldn’t believe that she didn’t want him near her ever again. Even with this he couldn’t imagine what life at university would be like without Circe. Or life in general for that matter. He didn’t like the idea of it at all. He couldn’t help the look in his eyes when he glanced back up to her, something in his throat tied into a knot. Part of him had expected his, maybe, but he hadn’t realized it would hurt quite so bad. But he wasn’t crying, there was just stinging in his eyes he couldn’t explain. “Can’t we still... be friends? Damnit, Circe, I don’t want to lose you just because of... this.” He just wanted to wrap his hands around Ulysses’s throat and throttle him for getting there first. Sort of.
Was there no way to be rid of him? Circe pulled the books out of his hands and then moved to step away from him. “Thank you,” she bristled and then stopped as she looked at him uncertainly. Friends. With Antonin. It shouldn’t have seemed so preposterous considering it was what they had always been. But things had changed ever since she had gotten married and he’d come out and destroyed what was supposed to be a friendship. They couldn’t just be friends anymore, that much was obvious. She’d been unsure about how she’d felt about him and she’d never voiced it out. But Antonin always said what was on his mind and he’d messed everything up. She shook her head. “No,” she responded firmly. “I can’t be around you anymore. You make things worse. You had to force yourself where you weren’t wanted and then you’re doing it again.” She adjusted the books against her chest and looked up at him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you can be just friends,” she challenged. Because she couldn’t. Not if he was this close. And it wouldn’t be fair to anyone, least of all her husband.
Antonin couldn’t see why it was completely his fault. If he hadn’t learned that Circe was the one going around and killing every girl he took home with him then maybe he wouldn’t have - okay, yes, he still would have gone and admitted to it eventually. But maybe not. He couldn’t know what he would’ve done and it didn’t matter because this was what was happening. He’d come out and admitted everything and gotten stomped on for his efforts. Definitely not what he was used to having happen. Wait. He blinked, tilting his head a little when she said he made things worse. What was he making worse? If she didn’t feel anything then it shouldn’t have been difficult. She should’ve been able to just forget it happened and be friends with him. Like they’d been for years. Antonin took a deep breath and looked down into her eyes. He couldn’t, it was a lie, she’d see it in his eyes because he knew they were betraying him. Being this close to her was hard. “I could be just friends if you could,” he replied at last. Knowing every single word was a lie. “What I can’t do is just stop being around you. So I love you. What’s that matter if you don’t care?” His legs were moving on their own to close the space. “If you don’t feel anything why do I have to stay away?” A glimmer of something like hope, maybe.
Matching the steps he took towards her, she took the same number of steps back. “Liar,” she accused. “I can’t trust you if you’re lying to me.” Really, it was one of those no-win situations. If he’d said that he couldn’t just be friends, she’d have taken it at that and left him. As he’d lied to her, she’d chosen to point that out and have an excuse to slip out of it that way. It wasn’t necessarily tricky but she had decided she wasn’t going to see Antonin anymore. It wasn’t fair to Ulysses and it would only complicate matters more. “You have to stay away because it’s going to be unhealthy for you. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Go on and have a dozen and then some affairs with women I could really care less about. Goodbye, Antonin.” She turned on her heel again and started walking the other way. She had her husband. She didn’t have room for Antonin and his so-called love in her life.
Yes, Antonin was lying, but he didn’t really see another option. And even that one was stolen from him when Circe just went ahead with that. It really did hurt and Antonin wasn’t used to being the one to get hurt by things. He was used to doing the hurting and he realized that he didn’t like this at all.This is what you get. Letting his thoughts roam had ruined everything. “Bye Alexandria,” he returned to the back of her head. Standing there for a few minutes he watched until she was gone, hands in his pockets before he turned and headed off for his flat. He’d suddenly lost all his desire to do whatever it was he’d been intending on doing. Class? Yeah, that, he’d rather find a dead dog and make it play fetch. Live dogs loved you but dead ones didn’t just leave. He could handle that.
He’d just have to make sure to keep saying hi to Circe whenever he saw her.
It came as a painful blow to her. She had convinced herself she loved him and that he loved her. After all, he had said the words first. And she would have never said them had he not done so...but...I never loved you. The words rang in Circe’s ears repeatedly as she sat in her empty bedroom, heart in pieces. It was her birthday and she’d asked him to stay. He’d received a call to look at something that might be important to his collection and he’d decided to go without consulting her. When she’d tried to make a scene and force him to stay, he’d laughed in her face. I never loved you. Circe hadn’t cried in a very long time and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t call her mother. She would simply tell her that she’d been a fool and tell her to leave Ulysses and come back home. Suresh was out of the question. He probably wouldn’t even pick up his phone. She had no other friends in London. Well. Except maybe one.
She hadn’t spoken to Antonin in the months following their conversation in the hallway when he’d told her he loved her. He was, however, the only person she could call now. And she still had his number...but she couldn’t even be sure it was the right one. Nevertheless, she couldn’t be alone on her birthday. It was simply too depressing and nothing she had been able to come up with could convince Ulysses to stay in town. In fact, he was probably halfway around the world by now. Picking up the phone, she hesitated a little bit before pushing the numbers necessary to place the call. Her hand was shaking as she pressed the phone to her ear. When she heard the familiar voice on the other end, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything but, “I need you now.”
Studying was what Antonin should have been doing. There was a test coming up and the professor had carried on and on about this, that, everything in between and drilled home the fact that the exam was crucial for their passing of the course. Antonin was even certain he had the course book somewhere and a spiral notebook that had maybe an entire page of notes from the course. While most people would freak out over having that little Antonin was actually proud that he’d manage to take that much. He wasn’t studious and he was going to get through this exam the same way he always did - picking the minds of his classmates and professors to find the right answers. Dishonest? Completely. But in a way he really didn’t see the problem because he was using his natural abilities. Not his fault that he was tuned into a higher frequency than everyone around him.
But Antonin’s debate about whether he’d even crack the cover of the book was disturbed when his phone went off. Glancing over at it he let it ring a few times before rolling over on his bed to pick it up. “Yeah?” And he didn’t drop the phone in complete shock when he heard none other than Circe, the girl who’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay away from her despite everything he’d said, on the other end. Suddenly it was a lot harder to do so much as swallow and Antonin’s throat worked for a minute before he could say anything, though he was already on his feet and at his dresser. “And where do you need me?” he replied. Without a thought for how she’d turned him away in every way and how badly it had hurt. It was like his mind had erased that and all he could think was that Circe wanted to see him. Somehow he managed to keep the phone to his ear as he hopped his way into a pair of jeans and boots, shirt half-buttoned within a matter of minutes. Talent earned from a love of sleeping in past alarms and needing to rush to class.
Rattling off her address, Circe told him that the door was open to their house...of course, it had to be a house to be able to contain all of Ulysses’ things. She didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish by having Antonin over. All she knew was that the day after was her birthday and no one was allowed to be alone on their birthdays. It was one of life’s most important rules. Or so Circe had believed when she was in her very early twenties. Hanging up before Antonin could ask more questions that would lead Circe to change her mind, she dropped her phone on the bed she and Ulysses shared before pacing around the room, wondering what the hell she was thinking. She’d asked Antonin to stay away and now she was inviting him into her house. She wasn’t even entirely sure what she wanted from him when he got here. Was she expecting him to tell her he loved her? She laughed out loud at the empty room. Love. It was a meaningless word that people simply threw out there to get their way. Ulysses had used it so Circe would marry him and become a part of her collection. Antonin had used it so she would...what, leave Ulysses for him? And her mother had used it so Circe would not run off and do something she disapproved of. Love was just another one of those words people used to manipulate others and Circe had fallen for it. Well, never again.
A bath seemed like a good idea. It would take Antonin some time before getting here and she could certainly use something to calm her. Her face was tear-stained and she wasn’t about to entertain visitors looking like death. She stripped out of the night clothes she was wearing, leaving the clothing on her bedroom floor before walking into the oversized bathroom and letting the hot water run. She picked out some lavender bath oil to pour into the tub before getting in herself. The scalding water would have made anyone else scream but Circe liked the heat. It wasn’t so hot that her skin would peel off but it was certainly hot enough to be uncomfortable for most people. Sinking in, she let the sloshing sounds remind her of the Australian waters and calm her. Things would be okay. Ulysses would realize what he had said had been foolishness and apologize. Maybe he didn’t love her. That was fine. But he was going to realize that he did want to be with her and fly back with a present. Or something. Yes...that was going to happen. Circe’s thoughts began to wander as she slowly began to completely relax in the hot water.
Antonin didn’t understand why Circe suddenly wanted him to come over. After he hung up the phone and made sure that he hadn’t put his pants on backwards or his shirt inside out he started to wonder why she’d called him. Couldn’t be because she’d reconsidered what he’d said. Antonin held onto a lot of things and sure he sometimes went out of his way to catch a glimpse of her and okay, he hadn’t had a girl in his been - or been in one of theirs - since he had made his little revelation but that didn’t mean he thought she thought about it. Married women didn’t do that just like they didn’t kiss idiotic boys back. She’s probably having some sort of a party and has decided that we can be friends after all. Of course he’d known that the following day was her birthday, he even had a small gift in a plan box on his desk. Originally he’d intended to leave it in her study carrel with an anonymous note but hey, if he was going to a birthday party then he didn’t want to be the only one without a gift. Tossing on his coat he pocketed the box and headed out for the address he’d been given.
When the cab dropped him off the first thing Antonin noted was that it was rather empty. He didn’t see many other cars and the windows were empty. Not to mention the lack of thoughts - the moment his thoughts even dared to brush against Circe’s he yanked them back. He’d promised. Antonin did knock on the door but then, remembering that Circe had said it was open, he turned the handle and let himself in. And was promptly amazed by the things. It wasn’t clutter but it was definitely an abundance and there were quite a few things he hadn’t seen before. “Hello?” he called when he didn’t see anyone. No thoughts either except for that distant buzz he wasn’t listening to. Maybe I’m just early. Deciding that was it, Antonin started for the thoughts he wouldn’t read, surprised when they led him into a bedroom and then a bathroom and his mouth opened when he realized that that was Circe in a bath. And she wasn’t wearing any clothes. It took a few seconds for him to make the connection and he was instantly bright red, ducked back out with his forehead pressed against the doorframe on the other side. “I did not mean to do that, Circe, I’m sorry,” he called out his apology. “I, uhhh... I’ll be... umm... out there when you’re... dressed.” She wasn’t wearing any clothes. Antonin was trying to put that thought out of his head but it wasn’t going very well, even when he went back out of the bedroom, closed the door, and settled himself down in the hall, toying with the plain box while he waited for Circe to come out and potentially remove his head for that.
She heard the front door, if only because the house was particularly silent and she was anticipating it. When she couldn’t quite make out the footsteps, she decided it was Antonin. Ulysses had heavy footfalls that liked to announce his arrival home or into a place. He wasn’t a very quiet man. Still, the water was still a little warm and Circe decided she would stay in for a moment longer before dressing to see Antonin in the living room. What she hadn’t anticipated was that he would come looking for her. She had to stifle her own amusement at the flustered voice that mumbled things about her state of undress before she heard him leave the room. She opened her eyes after he’d gone and rose out of the bath, drying herself off with a towel before selecting a lavender bathrobe that she had owned before she had gotten married. It was made of heavy silk, which meant it would keep her warm in the house that Ulysses kept at a certain temperature to make sure his precious collection did not shrivel up from the heat...ignoring the fact that his wife had difficulty surviving in cold temperatures. She should have seen that from the start.
“I apologize for not getting ready before you arrived,” Circe said as she joined him in the hallway outside her bedroom door. “Come in, I’m decent now,” she teased before she led the way back into her bedroom. She picked the clothes she had discarded up and threw them in a hamper as she sat down in one of the pair of chairs she and Ulysses had in their bedroom for having breakfast together. Not that they ever ate together in their bedroom anymore. Not that they ever even ate together anymore either. Still, it was there for decorative purposes and, now, it was being used to entertain a guest. “What have you got there?” Circe asked as she noticed Antonin had a box in his hands. Boxes with Ulysses usually meant he had another bit of jewelry he wanted Circe to model at the next party he was throwing so he could show it off to his so-called friends or to wear out so everybody could look at them enviously. Ulysses thrived off the jealousy of others, it seemed. It was like he needed the envy of other people like Circe needed babies. She was certain Antonin wasn’t about to dress her up and play with her like a doll with new accessories, however, so she was legitimately curious about the box and why he had brought it with him.
Way to put your foot in it, Antonin thought to himself, hitting the back of his head against the wall. Here she goes inviting you over for some party to mend bridges or whatever and you walk in on her in the bath. Not the way to convince her you can handle being friends. Should be grateful that bloody husband of hers isn’t here. Not that Antonin thought he would be, he’d heard tales of Ulysses and how he spent more time away from home for business. Whatever his business was. Antonin didn’t - who was he kidding, he knew that Ulysses worked with rare and unique objects and he’d once toyed with the idea that he chose Circe because she’d be the crown jewel of any collection. So far as Antonin could see but it wasn’t really his business, was it? Just hope she doesn’t take my head off. Then she was there, looking beautiful in a lavender bathrobe that Antonin did his best to not look at. Focusing on her face wasn’t much better but he grinned easily despite himself at the sight of it and followed her back into her room.
Taking the chair that seemed to match Circe’s, Antonin looked around the room for a moment. It was, he had to admit, very nice. Looked like Ulysses was good at what he did after all and definitely knew how to take care of himself and his wife. Bloody hell, I thought that wasn’t supposed to sting anymore. Yet it still did and it still had to be ignored. “Oh! It’s your birthday gift. Since tomorrow’s your birthday... yeah, I know, you’re not talking to me - or you weren’t - but I was going to get it to you anyhow. Figured you’d like it. Didn’t know you had all this.” His smile was a little sheepish as he offered the box to her. “It’s nothing fancy. Kinda thought that you were asking me over for some sort of party and I didn’t think you’d mind if I gave it to you myself.” It was a little pocket knife that he had seen in a store window one day and decided would be perfect for her, even if she already had one of her own. This one even had her name engraved right on the blade. Antonin rubbed at the back of his neck. “I mean, I hope you like it and all but if you don’t then... no big deal, right?”
Blinking twice at Antonin, Circe was surprised he’d remembered. Granted, he had remembered the year before and she shouldn’t have been so startled but after Ulysses’ lack of concern over her birthday, she’d not expected Antonin to remember, much less have a present with him. She looked at the little pocket knife and nodded. “Thank you, but there isn’t a party,” she said, placing the lid back on the box. “I don’t have many friends and Ulysses decided it was more important that he go to Nicaragua or something to look at an artifact of some sort than to stay home and celebrate his wife’s birthday,” Circe said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. I never loved you. That was a wonderful birthday present. Thank you, Ulysses. Circe spun the box around a couple times before she looked at Antonin. “Only you would choose to get me a blade instead of jewelry,” she said with a straight face. She had several pieces of jewelry from Ulysses, all very rare and very expensive, but he got to dictate what she wore where. She wasn’t allowed to wear any of it to school because no one who worked in a lab would care about her fashion sense anyway. She was literally like a doll that Ulysses got to dress up and show off.
Rising from her seat, Circe moved to the side of the large bed she shared with her husband and sat on the edge so she could face Antonin. She leaned forward. “How have things been since I last spoke to you?” she asked, conveniently ignoring the fact that she had imposed the distance between them and talking like they had simply fallen out of touch. Circe simply did not deal with things if they were unnecessary and she felt that the specifics of the reason they had not spoken in a fair amount of time was unnecessary. Her hair was still wet and stuck to her face and cheeks in odd places and she swiped at them to pull them out of her face. Reaching down a little bit, Circe massaged her ankles gently. She had not hidden the fact that she hated her legs and that they were more difficult to work with than a tail. Antonin had seen her natural form (as well as her snake form) and wouldn’t be shocked if she transformed into her proper lamia form but for some reason, Circe was okay with being human for a little while longer. She thought about telling him that she’d missed his company but decided against it. Circe did not like making her life complicated and telling Antonin she had missed him would only give him the wrong ideas.
No party? Oh. Antonin leaned back a little, momentarily confused until she elaborated. Then something flashed across his eyes and he fidgeted slightly. There was bitterness in Circe’s tone. She’d wanted Ulysses to say, but of course she had, no one wanted to be alone on their birthday and if you were married then it was practically guaranteed that you wouldn’t have to be. “I’m sorry, Circe, bloody inconsiderate of him.” There were a lot more, less pleasant things he could’ve said but he decided it probably wasn’t the best idea to go around insulting someone’s husband. Especially when that someone happened to be the one you had confessed to love not too terribly far in the past. Instead he nodded at her observation about the gift. “Figured you probably have enough of that without me adding some inexpensive little thing in that you’d toss in a box and forget. Besides, I think it fits you better.” Jewelry was nice but this was Circe and his first memory of her involved fangs and a blade at his wrist, not shiny baubles.
His eyes followed Circe as she changed where she was, but he managed to keep them on her face even when she leaned over. Really wasn’t very hard since he’d always loved her face - hey, hey, you thought about this the whole way over and promised yourself you wouldn’t stare. “They’ve been,” he responded a little vaguely, shrugging and looking off somewhere else for a moment until he could make sure that his smile wasn’t going anywhere. He even managed a quiet chuckle that held only an edge of self-mocking that he doubted would be picked up on. “Pretty boring, actually. All I do is classes and my raisings so that my headaches don’t get too bad. Haven’t done as many as I should though, seems kind of pointless to overindulge.” Madeleine encouraged him to do as little as possible to stretch out his life and Madeleine’d also threatened to hit him over the head with a baseball bat if he didn’t stop moping around after ‘that lamiae’. But he wasn’t going to tell Circe that because she didn’t really need to know, nor did he think she wanted to. His fingers slid together and stilled in his lap. Maybe he wouldn’t say everything exactly but he couldn’t help a little thing. “I have missed you, that’s all, glad you rang me.” Even if he still didn’t know why she’d break her self-induced silence for company she’d insisted she didn’t want. He leaned back a little, doing his best to grin like he always did when he teased her. “And you can admit that you’ve missed the scent of death, I know, it should come in a bottle specially for people like you but I’ve not met the company that’ll do it yet. Come on, Circe, give us a smile, you know you missed me.” And he meant as a friend, he really did. Antonin was doing his absolute best to keep himself filtered and so far, perhaps with the exception of how he couldn’t help but look at her, he thought he was doing pretty good. Besides, he’d always looked at her like that.
That was the understatement of the year right there. Ulysses was more than simply inconsiderate. He was selfish, self-serving and a bully. Circe stretched her legs as she worried her lower lip for a second. He hadn’t always been like that. Or had he? Circe couldn’t remember. The change in her husband had been so gradual she hadn’t really noticed. She smiled at Antonin’s explanation of his present. He was right on several levels. She’d appreciated the knife a lot more than anything sparkly...and, besides, there was no way he could buy her anything that could compare to the jewelry that Ulysses brought home. The jewelry Ulysses bought not for her but for himself. She was suddenly restless and stood up as she paced the bedroom. Picking the box with the present back up, she moved towards one of her drawers and slid it behind some clothing that was hers and she had owned before the marriage. Ulysses would not look in there. He never bothered with things he didn’t buy for himself. Just some old cheap dresses from forever and a day ago. Or at least it seemed like forever. She turned back around to face Antonin. It had only been a little while ago she was unmarried. Free. Now, she was bound, promised and legally tied to Ulysses Gibbon, who forgot his wife’s birthday...or worse: chose to ignore it. She pulled her robe tighter around her to fight the shiver of cold that ran down her spine. She smiled as Antonin said he’d missed her and looked down at the carpet as she chuckled. Her husband was off in some foreign land and in front of her instead was an old friend she hadn’t spoken to in ages. She could appreciate the irony.
“I’m glad to hear you’ve been taking care of yourself, at least,” Circe said, approaching Antonin. She stood in front of his chair and brushed the top of his hair lightly, combing it away from his face. Headaches had always plagued him, she’d learned some time ago. It was brought about when he didn’t practice his necromancy often enough. She’d let him into the morgue once in a while so that he could practice on something bigger than a mouse or a cat. Missed him? Of course she’d missed him. But she’d gone long enough without speaking her emotions and she was kind of used to not verbalizing any of that anymore. Silence suited her and she wore it like a debutante would wear a fur coat. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, inhaling his scent but also tasting it. No, no one smelled quite like Antonin did. Even Ulysses and his musty old shrunken heads and mummies and other what have you’s. Even after Ulysses had been rolling around some crypt searching for treasures, he never smelled quite like Antonin did. She kissed his other cheek. Moving her hands onto his knees for support, she pressed her forehead against his. “You said you loved me once,” she whispered before she kissed him on the lips, gently, carefully. She didn’t quite know where she was going with this but Ulysses had never loved her the way that Antonin had...still did...had...whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. She was using Antonin in the worst way possible but Circe had always been notoriously selfish.
Briefly Antonin wondered why Circe was putting her gift in a drawer with a bunch of clothes. Didn’t seem like the best place for it. But then he remembered who he was with and that she was married and the thought clicked that maybe that husband of hers wouldn’t like some guy giving her gifts. Especially not him if she’d ever said anything about what he’d done. Which he really hoped she hadn’t. Oh wait, he wouldn’t care, he’d just put up with whatever he got. Like he was worried about some rich man who happened to have what he wanted. God, if anyone could hear inside my head I’d be worried about what they had to say. There was the upside of being the telepath. A telepath who currently wasn’t any use at all because he couldn’t read the mind of the woman moving back towards him. Or he could but didn’t because she didn’t like it when he did that. Though when her fingers smoothed back his hair he really wanted to know what was going through her mind to bring her that close.
Silence did suit her in a way that it didn’t anyone else Antonin knew and he swallowed hard when she kissed one cheek. Part of him realized that his smile had gone away but the other part was focused on trying to figure out what was happening while he tried to keep some sort of hold on his heartbeat before it raced out of control like it was desperately trying to do. Circe didn’t belong that close. She’d declared herself that she didn’t and he’d managed to accept that. He thought. Having her right there again was making all of those declarations to himself fly out the window, fingers itching to reach up and touch her when she shifted so their foreheads were together, hands on his knees. Everything seemed to grind to a halt when she said that but before he could reply to her quiet statement all thought flew out the window because Circe was kissing him. He’d actually dreamed of this moment, longed for it to come even though he’d told himself that it couldn’t ever happen. But it was. Accepting the kiss he pressed up just a little to return it and his hands moved to Circe’s waist, knowing that it must be an awkward way for her to stand. She’d always said she didn’t like her weak legs. Pulling back after a moment Antonin looked up at Circe, questions plain in his eyes. “I still do,” he admitted quietly. Was he forgetting that she was married and that she’d pushed him away because of that or did he just not care? Must have not cared because he was offering himself up for tearing apart again. For all he knew this was her evening’s entertainment and she’d send him away with a laugh. But he realized he didn’t care. This was what he wanted and he’d take it.