cut_and_run (cut_and_run) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2016-03-23 10:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | nike, theseus |
Who: Theseus and Nike
What: After this whole ghost fiasco
When: March 23rd
Where: New York City
Warnings: Nike and Theseus being adorable awkward babies
Theseus had to come out of his head now that the past wasn't literally living side by side with him. It was nice to have clear vision again, but there was still some unrest. Zoe's mother, Sophia, had brought up what was always the worst part of his character----running. He ran from the things he wanted instead of staying. Now that he was here, trying to make a life with his daughter, he'd enjoyed being with Nike. Really enjoyed it, and that was where things started to fall. This was when Theseus would bolt, before he had a chance to really stick around. Loving people was so much harder than leaving them and keeping a wall around himself as protection.
That wall was slowly crumbling down and he was standing there with no armor to protect him. He'd stepped away from Nike long enough to take care of his daughter, and ensure her well-being. That was going to always come first, something Nike had to understand. At the same time, he couldn't just keep splitting himself in two. He'd chickened out on really getting into this with her before, while Sophia was still here. Now, there was an emptiness inside. A pull to a past that he couldn't live, and one he'd cowardly stripped away from Sophia. He'd loved her, he really had---and there was a guilt inside that he still loved her while pursuing Nike. He knew what was real and what wasn't, but was it horrible of him to have wanted that life he could have had with his daughter and his dead wife? The fact that he even wanted it, was proof alone to himself how he'd grown.
He didn't want to run from Nike, no matter how much it frightened him to be in so deep already. It opened a lot of doors as to why he had turned into the thief and coward he was before. His first son, his first love---that had ended so horribly. He didn't want to be doomed to repeat history----again and again.
He'd asked Nike to meet him, and he sat on the bench waiting. He wouldn't admit that his palms were a little sweaty. He really had no idea if she'd even show.