Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2017-04-22 19:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | hades, persephone |
and I am not even yours to run to
Who: Isobel & Obed.
What: Obed seeks Isobel out; conversation is had, but just as a bridge is about to be built, things fall apart.
Where: The tenth floor.
When: Wednesday, April 19.
Hanni chirped at her feet, his little head cocked to the side as she practiced moving the giant leaves in a synchronized wave pattern. Despite only learning of her apparent "gift" recently, her control had grown by leaps and bounds; she couldn't do much more than goad plants to follow her movements, but it was amusing and somehow comforting all the same.
Since the building change, she'd spent the majority of her time on the tenth floor, though the first and ninth called to her more loudly. The plants on the tenth were loud and vivacious, and though it was a touch too warm for her liking, she enjoyed the greenery enough to ignore the humidity. Hanni, on the other hand, with his long fur, had no such choice.
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry; are you hot?" Isobel plucked up the small animal, who was panting, though not in an unusual fashion. He was slightly damp to the touch, and Isobel wondered if she could give him a quick haircut while they were stuck inside. The preposterousness of the thought made her laugh aloud, and Hanni barked along with the sound.
She'd been avoiding everything -- Obed, Kate, other people. She felt comfortable in her solitude, where no one would question her or have expectations or think poorly of her. Her mind thought back to the wall of secrets she'd read on the sixth floor, the one she'd immediately known was Obed's; as if summoned, the stairwell door to the tenth floor opened.
"Here you are."
Obed's face was a nearly unreadable blank. His tone was much the same. He crossed over to her, his footsteps oddly silent on the stone floor. He was dressed as if he intended to go to work, in crisp dress shirt, tie, and trousers; in spite of the sticky heat of the floor, he did not look the least bit uncomfortable. He paused just inside her arm's reach, though the look on his face made clear he did not expect her to move to him.
"I see you've found somewhere you enjoy being." He nodded toward the damp little bundle in her arms. "I can take him for a while, if he's keeping you from something."
"He's not." Her arms curled a little tighter around the small dog, but she knew she was being childish. There was no reason to keep Hanni on this floor, where he was clearly uncomfortable. With some reluctance, she moved to hand the small animal to Obed, her fingers brushing his sleeves in the transaction. Before she could stop herself, her mouth was blurting out the question that had been ringing in her mind ever since seeing his secret.
"Do you really think that? That I'm going to leave you?"
Obed paled. Not for the first time that week he cursed the sixth floor, and the revealed secrets that had been all too easy to guess. He had been grateful his had not featured her name, but that relief was soon gone when he had read her own. He set Hanni down. The little dog danced around his feet, looking impatiently toward the door that led out of this sticky, wet heat.
"Do you really think I'm going to turn into him?"
"No," she immediately asserted, eyes rolling and closing in frustration in revisiting this topic; her hands twisted into fists, and the plants around her seemed to vibrate in the same fashion. "No, I...I told you about that. I told you that I was scared, and I said I was trying to fix it. That's why I'm seeing Simone, that's why I'm getting help. Because I want us to work."
She forced her hands flat, arms nearly rising to cross over her chest, but she forced them back down as she tried to maintain a relaxed posture. It wasn't working. "But it sounds like you've already decided it won't."
"It's just a fear, Isobel, not a prophecy. And a selfish fear, at that. That's why I've never mentioned it, why I've never talked to you or anyone about it."
Obed moved closer, Hanni following close behind. His gaze flicked to the leaves at her back, but dismissed what he thought he saw as the product of mental and physical exhaustion. "I don't know how anyone knew that, or why they'd put it up there to embarrass us both. But I promise you, I will do everything I can to make sure we work." He trailed a hand down her arm: a tentative touch, questioning in a way it typically was only in the privacy of their long cold bedroom. "But we can't, when you're constantly avoiding me. Everywhere."
She wanted to step into that touch, badly. It was much-needed sunlight after a long, cold darkness, water after a drought. She forced herself not to.
"I know, and I'm sorry I..." The typical refrain spilled from her lips without thought. Plants at their feet rustled, something sliding along the ground. Isobel turned to Obed, stepping out of his reach, her eyes meeting him without trepidation. "You know what? No, I'm not sorry. I've been incredibly stressed out, between that stupid dinner that I can't stop thinking about, and now Bryan, and these weird dreams, and you making me feel like you wanted me to deal with it on my own." Vines slithered along the ground, picking up speed as more and more rambled forth out of Isobel's mouth in much the same manner whenever she felt stressed or agitated. The made directly for Obed's feet, twisting around his ankles, wrapping about his legs. Hanni chirped in surprise, jumping out of the way and making for a small hidey hole under an overturned log nearby. His master shifted as if to do the same, but the vines held him fast.
"If we're supposed to be a couple, I want you to help me with my problems. I've been feeling like I shouldn't ask, I shouldn't want these things, but I do. You're right, you are cold, and I thought I didn't want to change you, that that wasn't what love is, that you're just supposed to take someone as they are but I really think you could make more of an effort..." Isobel missed all of this, her emotions carrying her away as a vine snapped up to wrap around Obed's right wrist, pulling his arm taut. That, however, did not go unnoticed. Isobel slapped hands to her mouth in surprise, her eyes wide as she realized what she likely had a hand in.
For once, Obed's stoic mien had completely slipped away. Unable to move, now stretched out like a butterfly waiting to be pinned, he felt a kind of helplessness with which he was entirely unfamiliar. He was genuinely stunned by this turn of events; as the vine tightened and the fabric of his sleeve began to tear, he snapped out of his shock enough to look to Isobel.
"Isobel?" he began, his voice as calm as his face was not. "If you're doing this, I'd really like you to stop."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chanted, the sound muffled behind her hands. She wasn't quite sure how to make it stop; she took a few steps forward. "No, don't do that." Nothing. She tried, "Go back?" The plants stayed in place, wrapped tightly around Obed's limbs. She touched one, which vibrated beneath her fingers, and it suddenly fell away, releasing Obed's arm. Isobel crouched down, doing the same with the ones wrapped around Obed's legs. They flopped to the ground, all tendrils lying in wait as if they did not yet quite trust this being who had intruded into their area.
Isobel rose back to her feet, arms wrapped around herself. "I swear, I didn't know they would do that." Her hand waved vaguely toward the otherwise innocuous looking plants upon mention of they. "I... It's been a weird couple of days."
"Weeks," Obed suggested. He rubbed his right wrist; he could already feel the bruises welling just beneath the surface of his pale skin. He put the tip of his thumb through a hole opened by the vine, frowning down at the ruined cloth. His hands smoothed over it, but his gaze was only on Isobel and the shifting plants behind her. He nodded to the apparently sentient greenery. "A little overprotective, aren't they? Should we… talk this out somewhere a little more neutral?"
She nodded. "Of course." Her eyes glanced down to the damage done, teeth nibbling her lip, nearly opening her mouth to say something more but then thinking better of it. Isobel moved to collect Hanni, whom she had to coax out of his hiding place, and bundled him up again in her arms. She looked to Obed.
"Back upstairs?" With guilt heavy in her stomach, she offered him the choice of the so-called neutral ground.
"I…" He looked almost sheepish. His gaze darted away, as though something on the tip of his tongue caused him marked embarrassment. He forced his eyes to hers in due time, and sighed at his own foolishness. "I feel very comfortable on the ninth floor," he said. "I'd prefer to go there, if that's acceptable." A little curve quirked at one corner of his mouth; it was gone before it formed into either frown or smile. "Besides. I know you have trouble considering that yours as well as mine. Why not go somewhere neither of us feel completely comfortable?"
The latter statement stung, though she knew he did not mean the words maliciously. She nodded, however, and turned toward the stairwell. She had no issue with the ninth floor; it felt markedly familiar, though why, she could not have said. It was as close-fitting to her being as the dreams she'd shared with a few in the building; with Hanni squirming slightly in her arms, she opened the door to the stairs and descended, which... In its own way, felt strange. Once they were down one flight, she gently dropped Hanni's small feet to the floor and opened the doorway for both herself and Obed in her wake.
She drifted toward the altar nearest the elevators on that side of the building; none of the fruit looked promising, despite their alluring and delicious appearance. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned back to Obed.
"Are you all right? I... I never meant to hurt you, I didn't realize there would have been such a reaction..."
He nodded. His hands were in his pockets in an unconscious mirror to her closed-off posture. He stood close to her, but not so close they touched. It was plain he was uncertain how to begin to deal with this; of all the countless negotiations he had held, none had felt so weighty as this.
"So where do we start?" he asked, utterly sincere. He drew a deep breath, exhaling on a sigh. "Are you unhappy with me?"
"No," she blurted out, worry contorting her face. "I just... I want you to show that you care, about me, about... My problems. I know I can't expect you to read my mind, but it's like we just exist in the same space, not that we're together. I want to feel like it's not wrong to ask you for things, but I also want to not have to ask. Which... I don't know if that's fair for me to want."
She dropped her hands to her sides, one rising up to brush fingers through her loose hair. "I just want to go back to when we first started with all of this, before I fucked everything up with my problems."
"You didn't…" Obed shook his head, frowning as he moved closer to her. "You didn't fuck anything up. And I do care about you, and about everything you're dealing with. I try to help where I can, but if there are things I'm not doing, or noticing, I need you to tell me. Help me understand." He longed to reach for her, but this showed only in a slight shifting of his weight, a stirring of one hand that did not fully leave his pocket. "I'm not him, and I don't want to be. Maybe that's why I hold back. I know you can handle things on your own, and you don't need me intervening."
He almost felt guilty for the words. But now was not the time to bring up Bryan's reappearance, or the work Obed had done on his own to handle it. That was a bridge he would burn when he came to it.
"I know you're not him. You're so much better than him. And I don't know why I don't just let myself see that." Tears burned her eyes; fingers wiped at the bottom edges as her gaze climbed to the ceiling. "No, I don't need you to, and I know I said before I didn't want you to do things because I didn't want to be a burden on you. But I want you. I love you, I want to marry you, I don't know, have a family and buy a stupid house or whatever but I want these things to be things we do together." Her hands folded over her chest as though she were trying to stop her heart from beating out of her ribcage. She took a step toward him, folded hands falling in front of her beseechingly.
"I can be better and I want to be. I want to tell you everything, Obed, I just want to feel like you want to know."
A shadow flickered over Obed's face; it might have been disappointment, or perhaps only pure and simple hurt. "I do." He closed what distance remained between them and took her hands in his own, as he had long wanted to. His thumbs slid over the backs of her hands. "I love you, too. And I want that, all of that. I'm sorry this is… difficult for me. I've been thinking about going back to Simone. She helped before, and with you going to her now… maybe she can help me with this, too. All of this." He raised her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Would that be a start, at least?"
She nodded encouragingly, her hands wrapping tight around his. "I do. She's helped me a lot with my...issues, and I think she could help both of us." After a pause, she pulled his arms around her middle, turning her face into his shoulder. "I want you to touch me. Just... you say things but you're standing half across the room and I'm not sure you're saying them because I want to hear them or because you mean it. I feel safer when you touch me." Her own hands settled against his shirt, fingers plucking gently at the fabric. "You don't have to wait for permission. Or if you don't want to, I understand."
"Oh, it isn't that." His arms drew around her, holding her tightly to him. He smiled against her hair, and kissed the top of her dark head. "It isn't that at all. I've thought I was giving you the space you wanted. Things have felt… strained, lately. I should have just asked you, but that's clearly something else for me to work on." He kissed her temple. "And I will. I swear."
The grip on his shirt tightened, a smile cutting a line into his shoulder. For a moment, it actually felt like everything would be all right. Another worry ate away at her, and now seemed like as good as any of a time to ask.
"What I said before -- a family, a house -- is that... is that what you want?" She stayed bent to him, her head resting on his shoulder, the warmth and closeness of him making her feel calm enough to even entertain the idea of asking these questions.
His hand stroked her back, his fingers gentle where they moved up and down the narrow ridge of her spine. When at last he spoke, there was certainty in his voice for the first time since their difficult conversation had begun. "It is. I'm in no particular hurry for either, but… preferably before I become embarrassingly, Hugh Hefner kind of old." The edges of his short nails slid down her back again, a small reassurance he needed as much as he thought she might. She telegraphed that she did by sliding her arms around him, pressing her tighter to his form. All of her earlier worries seemed ridiculous.
"You're definitely sexier than Hefner," she teased, pulling back to look him in the eye. Her hands released themselves, moving to cup his face, thumbs tracing cheekbones. "You just need the smoking jacket. Maybe for your birthday, if you don't already have one that I don't know about." She pulled his mouth down to hers, the liplock a much needed balm for her anxiety. They were finally starting to make sense, and now she felt excited to tell him what she'd been so worried about for so long.
His smile only deepened as he kissed her, though his lips grew cold against the warmth of hers. When he broke the kiss his hands remained on her; long, chilled fingers curved high around her arms. His eyes were a brighter blue than they had ever been outside of dreams, his gaze unsettlingly piercing.
Behind him, where before Hanni had been sitting patiently, a mountainous lump of black fur lay in wait. Three angular heads raised from the floor, three pairs of fiery eyes watching the woman one short pace away. Recognition showed in that thrice-repeated gaze; three mouths fell open, panting, sharp teeth bared in a sort of smile.
Isobel pulled back, ready to let everything go. She opened her eyes, and it was like waking into a nightmare. She immediately shoved herself away from both whatever Obed had become, not to mention the huge, many-headed beast sitting placidly behind him, as though waiting for his command. It was the dream all over again; the man before her only lacked his bloodied chariot, the thing whose wheels had ground down the people around her, killing them without a second thought. Isobel swallowed back a scream, her mind uncomprehending how things had changed from one moment to the next.
"Isobel?" Nothing changed on that stony face, but the voice that issued from it was Obed's, through and through. "Are you okay?" The beast behind him lumbered to its feet, so large it obscured the better part of the corridor behind its master. Its heads lowered, watching Isobel with earnest concern in its eyes. The man's hand tightened on her arm, his thumb stroking her skin as if to reassure her. "Isobel?"
She could not stop herself; the sound that ripped from her throat was long and ragged, and before Isobel fully realized what she was doing, she turned and ran down the corridor as quickly as her feet could take her, heading for the opposite stairwell. Whatever became of the man and his monster she did not know; all her mind could conceive of in that moment was to get as far away from both as possible.