Carson Durand (dontlaugh) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-04-09 15:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, carson, carson x rylee, rylee |
Who: Rylee and Carson
When: Evening, Sunday, October 15
Where: Their apartment
Status: Complete
A near-full day at the diner was always an exhausting one, but Rylee was in remarkably good spirits when she’d left, despite her aching feet. She had a purse full of decent tips, and there wasn’t the rusty ball of anxiety sitting in her gut this time, as there had been the last time Rylee woke up in Carson’s bed. Obviously they still had some things to work out, but it felt… better, somehow. Like they weren’t going to go another week barely speaking to one another because of extreme awkwardness.
She texted Carson just before she left to let him know she was bringing a couple sandwiches home for dinner, grilled chicken for him, roast beef with cheese for her, and she was kind of hoping they could just eat their food on the couch and watch a movie or something. Rylee was ready for a bit of normalcy after the last couple of weeks.
When she finally got home, Rylee smiled at Carson when she spotted him and moved to place the bags of food on the countertop. “Hey. I smell like grease and ketchup so I’m going to change out of these clothes before we eat, is that okay?”
After their talk about the money -- and his pep talk -- Carson and Brad had had a chill couple of hours just sitting and watching a movie. The other man had seemed to need the company, and Carson would drive himself crazy just sitting at home waiting to talk to Rylee anyway, so it had worked out. He’d come home officially fifteen thousand dollars richer, and he’d left the envelope on the coffee table for when they had their Talk. Rylee was unfortunately not going to get the normalcy she wanted. At least not at first.
He was waiting on the couch when she got home, and stood up, grabbing one crutch to follow her into the kitchen. “Yeah, uh ... yeah that’s fine,” Carson said, already aware that she would catch the hesitation. But he didn’t want to drag her into a conversation before she’d had a chance to shower and relax if she wanted to. He gave her a crooked little smile.
Rylee nudged his bag of food toward him, just in case he wanted to go ahead and start eating. She didn't want to make him wait for her if he was hungry. She did catch the hesitation in his voice, but Rylee was desperate to get out of her work clothes, even if she didn't take a shower first. Her yoga pants were calling her. "I'll be right back," she promised, already heading for he hall. Rylee tried to ignore the way her stomach clenched a little at the thought that maybe things weren't as settled as she'd imagined. Then again, it could have just been his meds, and maybe she was overly paranoid, given the circumstances.
Once her work clothes were in her hamper, Rylee changed into her yoga pants and t-shirt and came back out to join Carson. "I'm so hungry," she exclaimed, plucking her bag of food from the counter. "I was tempted to bring a whole goddamn pie home with me but I wasn't sure you would appreciate that." Rylee smiled. "What'd you do all day?"
Carson lingered in the kitchen, getting plates and napkins for them to eat with, and trying to fight off the temptation to just put it off, not bother her with it tonight. He knew that was a bad idea, because it would just keep eating at him, and the longer he waited, the more pissed off Rylee would be when he finally did tell her. As she should be. He looked over at her when she came back into the kitchen, a wan smile crossing his face. “I uh ... well, I talked to Brad for some of it,” he said, unloading his sandwich onto the plate. “And now I need to talk to you.” Carson gave her a glance that was a bit wary. He felt guilty already, because Rylee was hungry and she’d worked all day and now he was going to completely derail her evening and why hadn’t he waited again? Ugh.
"Brad?" Rylee asked, brows furrowed before it clicked. "Oh, gym Brad? He of the charity date? Did you guys figure out a day for that?" She assumed that's what they had talked about, and while she wasn't thrilled with it, it was for charity, so she considered it mostly innocent. She had her own 'date' to go on too. Probably sooner than later, since autumn wasn't terribly conducive to mini golf. Rylee pulled her sandwich out of the bag and eyed him with a bit of playful suspicion. "If that's what we need to talk about, it's really okay, Car. It's for a good cause and all of that." And it wasn't like she could have bid on Carson, for obvious reasons, though she wished she would've done it anyway.
Carson shook his head, his expression still serious. The knots had been a bit slow to start forming in his stomach, but they were definitely there now. He could only imagine how tightly wound he would be if it weren’t for the mood stabilizers. “No, it’s not that. There’s, uh, two things, actually. Here ... come sit down with me.” He picked up his plate and started back for the couch, going slow because of the single crutch. He already had a drink in there, and Carson muted the television once he’d settled onto a cushion again. He got comfortable and went over yet again what he wanted to say. He had to be sure and present it to her right.
The playfulness she had been feeling faded a bit. Rylee didn't like how serious he looked and a part of her wanted to ask him if this could wait until tomorrow. She'd had a good day and she was starting to realize whatever he wanted to talk to her about was going to ruin it. Grabbing a plate for her own food, Rylee followed him to the couch, though her stomach was full of uncomfortable butterflies as she sat. Rylee placed her plate on the coffee table, but left her food untouched as she watched Carson. "What's up? You're making me nervous."
Carson didn’t want to wreck her evening or make her nervous, but he knew he had to do this, so they could get over it and move on. Hopefully. Rylee wasn’t the only one who was full of nerves, Carson’s were just slightly muted. Not a lot, but slightly. He took a deep breath and blew it out between his lips, nudging his glasses up with one knuckle. “Okay, uh ... you know how we talked about being honest? I didn’t bring it up then, but ... I’ve got a confession to make.” Carson made himself meet her eyes, his brow furrowed a bit, trying to brace himself internally. “I fucked Brad. It was a week or so ago, a few days before I got bitten.” So it had been after they’d fooled around the first time, that was the kicker. “It was just the once, and really impulsive, and I just ... I was feeling so fucked up about everything, my head wasn’t on straight at all, and I just ... didn’t think before I did it. I’m sorry, Rylee.”
It was instinctual to want to assume a 'confession' was a bad thing. It usually meant harmful secrets coming to light. Usually. Rylee didn't consider her confession to him to be a harmful secret - at least she'd hoped it wasn't. Or vice versa. Still, everything inside of her went cold as soon as Carson started speaking, because he looked serious, and nervous and Rylee couldn't imagine anything good coming from that. When Carson finally came out with it - he fucked Brad - Rylee's brows drew together in confusion as it sunk in. Carson having a sex life was nothing new - god knew she had one. But a few days before he'd been bitten meant that he'd slept with Brad after their little confessional, and that sort of muddied up the waters a bit.
She didn't really know what to say, and she looked away from him to stare at the television for a long moment. It was only once, impulsive, fucked up, etc. Could she just justify it and tell him it's okay, because obviously they weren't together, and could never be together, and he should be able to fuck anyone he wanted? Was she allowed to get angry? Because she'd opened herself up to him and had shared her vulnerabilities and told him she loved him? Because she hadn't gone out with anyone, or fucked anyone, since that night because she felt like she'd be cheating on him in a strange, twisted kind of way? Was it fair to feel like he'd cheated on her? Jesus Christ, this was all fucked in her head and she hated the instant confusion she felt, on top of all of those complicated emotions. Goddammit. Rylee inhaled deep through her nose and then parted her lips to exhale before she looked back at Carson. "Okay," she said evenly. Snark burned on her tongue and Rylee tried to push it away. "Thanks for telling me, I guess. I'm not really sure what to say."
Any small bit of relief that Carson felt getting that off his chest was overshadowed with anxiety about what it might mean, how Rylee might feel about it. He didn’t know any better than she did if it had been cheating, but it felt like it. He’d been fucking people for years while still harboring feelings for Rylee, he’d even been pretty sure he was also in love with a couple of them, but none of that had felt like cheating because Rylee hadn’t known how he felt. And he hadn’t known it was reciprocated. But they’d come clean with one another ... and then he’d fucked someone else who he didn’t care about on that sort of level. Carson still didn’t really know how to feel about it, but he was in a position where he couldn’t not tell Rylee, so here they were.
He still looked fretful at her answer, though it wasn’t a bad one, it might be covering up a bad one. Carson guessed he would find out. He felt like he deserved any anger she might aim at him, it just might take a bit for it all to process. “There’s more,” he said with a soft sigh. Carson leaned over to grab the envelope, thick with cash, from the coffee table. He offered it out to her to take and examine. “I found this under the door a couple days ago,” he told her. “It’s fifteen grand. From Brad. He tried to do it anonymously, but I know his handwriting from the gym, and I knew he had money, so ... I put two and two together. I tried to give it back to him today, but he wouldn't take it, said I should use it to cover expenses, being out of work and all. It seemed like ... I dunno, a personal thing for him, he’s been giving other money away too. But I didn’t want to do anything with it ‘til I talked to you.”
Rylee wished he had waited a bit before dumping the next issue on her, because she was still trying to process Carson fucking Brad when he handed her the envelope of cash. She peered inside at the bills and then stared at him dumbly. Fifteen grand? For some reason, that confused her more than the two men sleeping together. The cynical side of her didn't believe for a second that Brad tried to do anything anonymously. If he had, why hand write it and not type the letter? Especially if Carson knew Brad had money. "You barely know the guy and he gives you fifteen thousand dollars? After you fuck him? That doesn't seem like odd timing to you?" Rylee reached out to drop the envelope back on the coffee table. She didn't care if Brad was standing on top of a building, dropping bills all over the damn town. It didn't sit well with her at all, but that could have been because Carson fucked the guy first. Rylee was feeling on edge now, out of the loop and confused and yes, angry. More than that, she felt stupid, which only added a bit of fuel to her anger. "I don't know why you'd need to talk to me about it, Carson, it's your money, I guess. You can do whatever you want with it."
“Of course it seemed like odd timing, which was why I tried to give it back to him,” Carson said. It had confused him too, but after talking to the guy, Carson thought the envelope had been more assuage whatever personal shit Brad was going through more than anything to do with Carson. That was hard to explain to Rylee though, especially now. Even though he’d known she would probably be pissed about the whole thing, her tone still stung a little. It didn’t matter though, what mattered was that he’d screwed up. “And because, like ... I dunno, it means I could pay off our rent for a year, you know? Take us on a trip, or something like that, for us. I don't want it just for me.” Carson made a vague gesture at it, then ran a hand through his short hair and nudged his glasses up again.
Rylee wanted to ask Carson why he only tried to give it back. And why he hadn't just left the envelope at Brad's house and left. Some small part of her brain knew that it was a lot of money, and Carson wasn't working, and it would help, but it felt wrong to have it at the same time. He barely knew Brad. Rylee had only met him twice. It was just weird for some guy to start handing out thousands of dollars out of nowhere. She shot him a bewildered look when he mentioned options for what to do with the cash and Rylee wondered if he was really that dense. "You want to take me on a trip with money given you by a dude you fucked from the gym," she said dryly. "A guy you decided to have sex with after I told you I was in love with you. You want me to share that money with you." She was hoping Carson would hear just how foolish that sounded. "That's your money," Rylee said as she moved to stand up. "If I want fifteen grand, I'll find my own rich guy to fuck, okay?"
Color rose in Carson’s cheeks and neck and he couldn’t meet her eyes as she stood. That had been a stupid thing to say, he guessed. He really had a talent for stupid shit lately. He rubbed absently at the stubble on one cheek, letting the defensiveness at her implication that he fucked Brad for money rise and fall again. He deserved for her to chew him out, Carson guessed. He’d let his impulsiveness and confusion override his good sense and make him careless. Rylee was right on some level though, he couldn’t keep it. He especially couldn’t use it for fun. The only other option he saw was to donate it, and the part of his mind that was doing its best to stay removed from this conversation started making plans to do just that. Wounded Warriors could always use the money. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, not sure what else to say to her right then. That probably wasn’t the best thing, but it was all he had.
"Me too," Rylee said, deciding she wasn't hungry after all, and she left her plate of food on the table as she moved around it to head for her bedroom. But she folded her arms and paused, looking back at Carson. She knew he was sorry, but that didn't really make her feel any better. "You know, I don't feel like I even have a right to be angry, because everything was so up in the air and confusing and it wasn't like we were sitting down to have any kind of profound discussion about what we were to each other, and what we were going to do about it, if anything. But I just figured that was coming. Jesus, Carson, you know how I am with men. No, I never loved anyone else because I always loved you. But I never let the idea of loving someone else even become a possibility because it fucking scared me. The thought of opening myself up to another person and being that vulnerable sounded like the fucking worst, because I've seen what that can do to people. It wasn't worth the risk, you know? But then I felt like I could finally tell you how I felt, because you were the one person in the world who would never hurt me, right? But you did, just like that. Impulse won out and that fucking sucks and it sucks that it hurts when I knew this was just a disaster waiting to happen, and I didn't even care."
Rylee paused and breathed, reaching up to push her hands through her hair in mild frustration. She knew she would eventually get over it and move on, especially since she had gotten that off her chest, but she had no idea what it meant for them, if anything. If there even was a 'them'. Right now, she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure what else to say to him, so Rylee headed off for her bedroom again, ready to crawl into bed and stay there for the foreseeable future.
Carson listened to every word, though he still couldn’t look at her. He did know how she was with men, even if he hadn’t thought it through enough to come to those sorts of conclusions about vulnerability and all that. Because he was a thoughtless, selfish bastard, of course. He’d known in the back of his mind that it would hurt Rylee, but he’d done it anyway because he was too focused on his own confusion and the desperate, ridiculous need to be some kind of ‘normal’ that probably didn’t exist anyway. Carson didn’t know if he should follow her, try to say something, try to fix it. He didn’t know what or how, so anything he tried would probably make it worse. Instead he just sat there looking down at his hands and wishing he could sink through the floor. And possibly the ground itself and into the molten core of the earth. That sounded good.
He managed not to cry until he heard her bedroom door close, and then the hot tears forced their way out. Carson muffled the short storm into a couch pillow, mentally cursing himself all the while. Once his body had purged the edge off, he made himself get up to take the sandwiches back to the kitchen and tuck them into the fridge so they wouldn’t spoil. He turned everything off and limped to his own bedroom and quietly shut the door. Carson knew he wouldn’t sleep for a long time, he would probably cry some more, but better to give her free reign of the apartment without him in it in case she wanted it.
After he’d laid in bed listlessly for a while, Carson pulled his phone out to send Rylee a text. Im so sorry i hurt you. i love you more than anything else in the world. truly. i dont know how to deal w/ any of this right & i fucked up & i hope you can forgive me someday. let me know if you want to talk. i love you, Ry. It wasn’t perfect, but it still took him ten minutes to write and finally hit send. Carson made himself put his phone aside and rolled over as emotion welled up again. It was going to be a long night.
As much as Rylee wanted to take a hot shower, she was feeling too shitty to even get out of bed once she had laid down. She was feeling tense and angry and disappointed, and yes, guilty that she had gone off on Carson the way she had. She wasn't his girlfriend, and he didn't owe her any kind of monogamy. It was just incredibly frustrating not to know how she was supposed to feel about it. She tossed and turned in bed for awhile and then turned on her television, keeping it low as she flipped off her bedroom lights. Rylee watched television mindlessly for a bit, not quite paying attention to anything that was happening. She felt too exhausted to cry. It was sometime before she heard her phone buzz on her nightstand. Rylee lifted her head from her pillow and reached over to check the message. From Carson.
Curious, she swiped open the message and read it, feeling her throat start to close up with emotion. Tears burned behind her eyes and Rylee set her phone back down, well aware that she wasn't in the right state of mind to respond. If she didn't, who knew where the conversation would lead, and she felt like they would need to talk face to face to work this out, not over the phone. Still, the message was appreciated, even if it made her hurt worse in a way. She rolled over and pulled her blanket up over her body before closing her eyes. If she needed anything right now, it was sleep. And maybe in the morning she would have a clearer perspective and could figure out what to do. Right now, though, she just didn't want to deal with any of it.