WHO: Tristian [Narrative] WHEN: Thursday WHERE: His apartment WHAT: Thr truth hurts. WARNINGS: None STATUS: Complete
He shouldn't have done it, but he had to know.
On Wednesday they'd held the memorial for those lost in the fire at the Blue Velvet, but Tristian hadn't gone. He'd meant to, but hadn't. Attending meant seeing Cian again, or at least feeling his presence nearby; it was too soon for that, but how could he not show up? Ana had been his boss and he owed it to her to show his face.
But before he could go there and hear all those extra whispers, Tristian had to find something out. He had to know if he was right, and that meant using Auspex again.
It was a little past four am on Thursday when he came round. There was always a risk that using his clan ability that it might overwhelm him, but this time he wasn't sure if Auspex was really to blame. Had he let go? Maybe. Missing out on the gathering was disappointing, but if Tris had shown up there and caught the scent of truth lingering on his former lover...how could he have hidden his reaction? Emotions painted themselves across his face like bright colours. How could he meet those mismatched eyes and pretend everything was fine when he knew that the thing he'd dreaded all along had come finally true?
Cian had moved on.
What did that make him? Nothing more than a distraction on the road to something more viable, more acceptable, and even though Tristian knew that would happen eventually, he hated his prediction for being so on the nose.
There were so many things he wanted to do now, so many people he wanted to be. A part of him wanted to sink to the floor and drown in his tears again, but he couldn't allow himself to be shattered by this Kindred so soon after he'd pieced himself together. Anger burned through him. The thought of going over to Staten Island to shout and yell and scream, cause a scene, marinated in his head for a moment or two, but it wasn't worth it. The urge to slap the Elder hard, letting those nails he'd found so appealing scratch into his skin, would be too difficult to ignore, and then he'd have Connie to deal with; now, more than ever, he knew who Cian would stand by in that little scrap.
And after all, he was already the unreasonable one here, wasn't he?
Bitterness lapped at his thoughts, and Tris knew that if he continued on this path then something cold and sharp and cruel would seep into the marrow of his bones. The Tristian so many found hard to tolerate would be a shadow compared to the creature that took over from him, and would likely last half as long considering his current reputation.
This wasn't Lover's Walk. This...wasn't any episode of Buffy, and there was nothing he could do to make it so. This was truly the end. So what did he do now?