Lyle Majors (smartassets) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2009-05-28 17:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | lyle, peyton |
Saturday, 11/17
Who: Peyton and Lyle
What: More fighting!
Where: The G-Wing hallways, his room, then her room
When: Saturday Morning
Rating: R
The date with Cissy had been just lovely. Lyle hadn't been ice skating in such a long time. Of course, the skating wasn't the great part. It had been Cissy, the situation, just not having to worry about shit. She was a lot more easy to be around than he'd initially imagined. He could understand why Fisher got along with her so well- Cissy was the type of girl who would absolutely swoon over a gay gal pal. It had ended well with a sweet kiss. Nothing pornographic, just simple and plain. Perfect end to a first date.
Of course, coming home afterward hadn't been as pleasant. Just from walking into the room Lyle knew something was wrong. His laptop was open, the screen on. Hadn't he closed it last night before he'd left? He had discovered the computer in Arabic or Hebrew or whatever fuck language it was stuck in, and since he didn't read that language he could only assume that the red exclaimation points inside triangles were warning him of viruses. Fucking Peyton. He should have known, should have expected some shit like this. He really didn't know what her fucking problem was. She had been the one to tell him to find someone else, that she wasn't interested. So now he had tried someone else and she was pissed at him for it? What the hell? He'd closed his computer and decided to forget about it until morning, when he would call tech support and maybe have to send it out. Fucking hell.
The morning brough new suprises when he'd grabbed a pair of jeans and discovered Pey had cut them short. Every damn pair. So the only pair of jeans he had left were the ones he'd been wearing last night. Then he'd spent twenty minutes trying to untie his sneakers from about four other pairs of shoes, before he'd decided to say 'fuck it' and wear sandals. Yeah, it was November. He was a vampire, he wasn't gonna get cold. So Lyle was in a real foul mood when he got up, which was not alleviated by his new neighbor screaming at the top of his lungs. It was eight in the morning, what the hell could that guy possibly be doing??
Lyle stepped into the hallway, closing the door loudly behind him. He locked his door, stuck the key in his pocket, and turned to see a sleepy looking Peyton. He was stunned at first. Then he put on the poker face. "Hebrew?" he said flatly, unimpressed. "And I'm guessing about fifty viruses I can't read about? Real goddamn mature."
---
Fucking shit bastard from hell! Peyton winced upon seeing Lyle. It totally fucking figured she'd be caught sneaking out of Dante/Roger's room, and by Lyle of all people. Couldn't they have put Roger somewhere else in this building? She fished around in the pocket of her jeans, finding an elastic hair band she had stashed there. While Lyle ranted, she threw her hair up into a messy ponytail.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Lyle." She was a good liar, and she could probably convince staff members she was innocent, but Lyle knew better. "And it's Arabic." What? He already knew it was her, and while she could pretend it wasn't, it kinda irritated her that he didn't recognize the language. Idiot should study more.
---
He didn't believe for a minute that she was innocent. Nobody else would either, if they'd ever talked to her for more than two seconds. He crossed his arms. "I don't care if it's fucking hieroglyphics. That was totally lame. And you cut all my pants and tied my shoes together? What are you, seven? Is there a whoopie cushion on there I should be on the lookout for?" God, she could be so infuriating!
"What the hell are you so pissed about, anyway?" he snapped. "Because I wasn't around last night for you to fuck? Well sorry, princess. But you're the one who told me to get over you. So that's what I was doing."
---
Peyton didn't want to have this conversation. In particular, she didn't want to have it right here.. in the hallway. She also didn't want to go into his room. She just wanted to return to her own damn room and then hit the shower before heading to the clinic to get her fucking day after pill. Why the fuck did Lyle have to be here giving her shit?
"I'm pissed at you because I've been coming over to your room every single night for the past two weeks. You knew I'd be coming over again last night, yet you waited until the last second to tell me you had a date, and you only told me because I got online and asked what I should wear before popping into your room. Were you even gonna tell me at all? Were you just gonna let me show up and wonder where you'd gone?" It was totally dickish behavior, and if he didn't realize that, then he wasn't the 'nice guy' he claimed to be. "I've never done anything shitty like that to you... not ever."
She looked around the hall, hoping no one was listening in. She wasn't feeling herself right now. She was still weak from having been electrocuted last night. She wished she could talk to Dante to fill in the blanks about what had happened. Her chest itched really bad too, and she rubbed it a few times, each time stopping herself after a second, hoping he wouldn't ask what was wrong.
---
Well fine. She did have a valid point. He should have told her sooner. Honestly, though, he had wanted to make her mad. Well, maybe mad wasn't the right word. Jealous. He'd wanted her to realize she was taking him for granted and he wasn't always going to be there, especially since she made it very clear that she didn't care one way or another if he was. But to say she'd never done anything shitty to him... "Bullshit!" he spat. "You've done tons of shitty things to me. You do nothing but shitty things to me." That wasn't true and they both knew it. But he was still pissed that she'd screwed up his laptop.
Yeah, he was pissed and yeah, he kind of wanted to smack her one because she was so goddamn frustrating. But he did notice she looked out of sorts, and that made his unfeeling facade drop. "You okay?" he asked. She looked kind of antsy, almost nervous.
---
"Don't you call bullshit on me!" she yelled, really fucking pissed that he would say such a thing. "I haven't done anything shitty to you, and you fucking know it! Give me some fucking examples, I'd love to hear what I've done to you that was so damn bad... what I did to deserve getting ditched like that. You wanted to go out on a date with me, and I went, and I think I was a damn good date too. You wanted to fucking snuggle and sleep instead of having sex, and I did that too. I actually said thank you... when you helped me out, and I never thank anyone!" She was shaking now from being so angry. She'd done a lot for him, and he didn't even fucking notice! "I can't count on you. Ok, so you were there once... but that doesn't make you reliable. You're just like everyone else!" she screamed.
His question made her face falter a bit, "I'm fine! Stop pretending to care... because you don't... you never did." She didn't know if it was because she was in physical pain or what, but her emotions were starting to get the better of her, and she needed to get away from Lyle. She wished she was able to use her powers right now, but she was too weak for that. Instead, she turned and started walking back to the girls' dorms.
---
She was pissed, and he didn't care. Fine. At least she was talking to him. "Examples?? I'll give you examples, fine! Making me feel like not wanting to fuck you makes me somehow defective. Telling me every damn chance you get that I am not Rez, I'm never gonna be as good as he is, as perfect, as fucking great as Rez." Now he was shouting, and he realized it. His voice fell quiet again, calmer. "And yeah, you thanked me. I put my ass on the line, worried like shit about you, and you thanked me. After telling me what a shit job I did, after saying you would have been better off calling Rez." It was obvious that just the guy's name, just saying it, burned like acid in his mouth.
Of course Lyle started following her, throwing his hands in the air. "I never cared? Are you fucking serious?? I didn't sleep the entire time you were in Cairo, and I got you the meds you needed to treat that infection you stubbornly refused to go to the infirmary for, and you stayed in my room for five frickin' days and I never once tried to make you leave!" How was it not obvious, so damn clear to her that he cared?
"Jesus, Peyton... I went out with Cissy last night to make you jealous." What the hell, he didn't have much to lose at the moment. "You told me to move on, so I tried. And I didn't tell you until last minute because i wanted it to hurt, wanted you to feel something, anything about me not being there anymore. Fuck, I don't care if I have to wait around for you, sit in my room while you go off and fuck whoever you want, as long as you fucking just... tell me you want me, that you care. And you don't. You've told me so many times you don't." He ran a hand over his face. "You take advantage of me, and when I finally stand up to you you lose your shit and call me an asshole!" She was still walking away, still ignoring him. He reached out and grabbed her hand, trying to get her to stop walking away.
---
"You aren't Rez!" she interrupted. "You'll never be Rez! And, get this... I don't want you to be Rez!" Rez was her best friend. Yes, she'd been fucking him for years, but he was her friend first and foremost. Peyton wouldn't admit it to anyone, especially not Lyle, but she kinda liked having a guy who was something other than a 'friend'. She kinda liked going out on an actual date. And, ok, maybe she kinda liked sleeping in his room all the time and being able to curl up next to him in bed. She didn't do those things with Rez. "I gave you shit just 'cause you told people about what happened when I asked you not to. You fucked up!" He wasn't going to put that on her, no way in hell.
"Oh, so what? You wanted to kick me out of your room but you just felt sorry for me because I was sick? Wow, yeah, pity is totally the same thing as caring about someone." She rolled her eyes and continued to walk away.
Her head began to pound harder as he continued to talk. Why was he telling her this shit? She didn't want to hear it. "It didn't hurt," she lied, "It doesn't hurt now either!" Actually, everything hurt right now, but she was having trouble figuring out if it was from being electrocuted alone, or if the shit he was saying was getting to her that badly.
When he grabbed hold of her hand, she'd not been expecting it. Her instincts kicked in, and while she knew she shouldn't try to create an energy shield to get him to let go of her, her body reacted all on its own. Problem was, while her body wanted to defend itself, it wasn't strong enough to do so right now. Instead of producing an energy shield, she collapsed on the ground. The attempt took what little juice she had left in her system, so she blacked out briefly.
---
She knew how to hurt him, and she did so admirably. "I know I'm not Rez." He didn't believe for a second she didn't want him to be, though. "Well you sure as hell compare me to him enough." He knew he would never live up to those standards, but if she was trying to deny that she put unreasonable expactations on him, she was fucking nuts.
"No that's not..." What was the point? He liked having her in his room. But telling her that was useless. Peyton heard what she wanted to. She did what she wanted, she said what she wanted. And right now she was pretty much saying that he had blown it, blown it bad, and despite all the hoping in the world he was completely wasting his time here. It felt like a knife in the gut.
He just wanted her to stay, wanted her to keep yelling at him. Yelling was better than leaving. But as soon as he touched her, she collapsed. Lyle stood there a minute, stunned. Then he sprang into action. "Pey, shit," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside her. Her face was so pale, and looked frail, small. "Fuck," he whispered. Scooping her up, he took a few seconds to debate. He could bring her back to his room, have her wake up on his bed and get super pissed. Or he could bring her back to her room, worry the fuck out of Lelia and possibly confirm her theory that Lyle was a sadistic serial killer rapist. Hmm... tough fucking choice. They were closer to his room, so that's where he went. Unlocking the door was a bit of a challenge, but thankfully Peyton was light. He laid her down on the bed gently, putting a blanket over her. Lyle sat at his desk, turned to face the bed. His elbows were on his knees, his hands covering his mouth. He just sat there, watching her, making sure she was still breathing. He didn't know what had happened, why she looked so gone. But he waited to see if she'd wake up again.
---
Peyton really was not having a good start to her weekend. She briefly died the night before, after basically getting dumped, and now she was passed out on the floor. Just fucking GREAT! Stupid powers and stupid electricity. The two things didn't mix well at all. She was dead weight as Lyle picked her up, but she didn't weigh all that much, so it wasn't exactly a challenge for him to carry her.
Unlike last night, when she had dreamed while unconscious, there was nothing going on in her head right now. At least not until she came two a few minutes later. Her eyes blinked a few times, and she coughed as she rolled over onto her side. She was expecting to feel the hard hallway floor beneath her, but instead she felt soft bedding. Her hand rubbed over it for a moment as her thoughts fell into place again. That was when she noticed Lyle and realized she was in his bed.
Peyton sat up quickly, but she fell back down on the bed just a second later. Her head was spinning. "Don't you fucking ask me if I'm ok."
---
Lyle sat in total silence, waiting. He didn't like not knowing what was going on. But he didn't want to risk waking her, either. So he'd decided to give her five minutes. If she didn't wake up, if she didn't move... well he didn't know what he'd do. But he'd do something. Luckily, at three minutes eight seconds, Pey began to stir. Lyle was so relieved he didn't say anything, didn't greet her or try to get her attention. He just watched her. He did get up when she tried to sit up, though, and stood beside the bed. He had to smile, though, at her first utterance. Classic Peyton.
"I can already tell you're not," he said softly, squatting down on his heels to be eye level with her. "I'm not gonna ask what happened, either, because I know you won't tell me." He wanted to touch her hair, her face, something. But he didn't. "I can leave if you want," he offered. "So you can sleep."
---
Peyton rolled over in bed so she was facing the wall instead of Lyle. She hurt so bad right now, and she really didn't want him to see that pain in her expression. Peyton didn't like feeling weak, and that's the way she felt right now. She hated it just as much when she got stuck in Egypt and had to ask him to help her get home. She didn't want to need anyone at all... she wanted to take care of herself, because she was the only person she could truly rely on.
She didn't say anything to him. He was right... she wasn't going to tell him what happened, and part of the reason was that she didn't know exactly what had happened. She was oblivious to the fact that her heart had stopped beating last night. And she'd never passed out from trying to produce an energy shield before, so that was a little confusing.
Peyton also didn't respond to him offering to leave. Instead, she tried sitting up again. Unfortunately, she fell out of bed instead, and landed on Lyle. She pushed herself away from him quickly, grabbing hold of the bed frame to help her stand up, but she was wobbling pretty damn bad.
---
She was a stubborn little twat and Lyle knew it. But he did not know quite how far her stubbornness went until she tried getting up again, falling right into his arms. He gladly caught her, didn't even take offense when she shoved away from him. She wasn't going to make it on her own, though. With a reserved sigh, Lyle wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping his head back for when she inevitably took a swing at him. God, why did he care about this girl? She was mean and stubborn and selfish. But he would've walked through hell for her.
"You have two options," he told her, his voice stern. "You can either crash here or I walk you back to your room. I don't wanna hear that you'll be fine, that you don't need help, that you want me to fuck off. You have the two options. Which one do you want?"
---
Peyton really despised him right now. She was furious with herself as well. She'd gotten herself into this situation, and now she actually had to enlist his help to get out of it. DAMMIT! It was so insanely irritating. Part of her wanted to call Rez right now, see if he'd come get her, but that would only inflame the situation and drag it out.
Lyle was right. She only had two options. "Take me back to my room," she grumbled. "And keep your fucking mouth shut while you do." What? She was pissed and in pain! She could have been a lot bitchier!
---
Without a word, as requested, Lyle hoisted her to her feet, letting her think just a little that she was moving of her own accord. Of course, after three steps it became quite clear that she couldn't even fake walking, so he slid an arm under her knees and scooped her up. This was nice, holding her, feeling useful. He knew it didn't change anything, that tomorrow she would feel fine and she would still be angry (probably angrier) and would cuss him out and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. So why did he do it? Why did he waste his time on someone who didn't reciprocate, didn't appreciate him? He didn't want to answer that.
Because it was so early on a saturday, not many people were out in the halls. He was glad that no one could ask him what had happened, that no one was going to try talking to them. He didn't know what to say to them. Thankfully Lelia wasn't in the room. He didn't know what he would have told her about this. It was hard keeping his mouth shut, since he wanted to ask Peyton what had happened, if she was going to be okay, if she needed anything. But she had told him to shut it. Maybe now he wouldn't be such a glaring disappointment to her.
Laying her carefully on her bed, Lyle tossed a blanket over her, then grabbed a can of Sprite and a pear from her fridge and placed them above her head on the bed. Eventually she'd need to eat something, and she wouldn't want to get up for it. He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her forehead, assure her she was gonna be okay, but he didn't. He stood there a moment, just watching her. "Bye," he said at last, voice barely above a whisper. She needed to rest anyway.
---
Peyton honestly didn't think Lyle would be able to keep his pie hole shut for the entire walk back to her room. He wasn't so good at doing what she asked him to do when it came to rules like that. Idiot had a big mouth. But here he was, being quiet and helping her... again. She didn't like the pattern that was developing. Peyton didn't exactly fit the whole damsel in distress mold, and she sure as hell didn't want some white night in the form of Lyle.
When she was back in her room, she felt slightly better. It was good to be someplace familiar. His room was familiar too, but she didn't feel comfortable there right now. She didn't feel comfortable around Lyle, period. His presence was upsetting and confusing. And him being nice was only making it worse.
He brought her food. That was really... ugh... sweet. She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn't, well, not really. He only said 'bye'. What the fuck? "That's it? Bye? You really aren't gonna say anything else?" She was so hard on him. Just a few minutes before she'd told him not to speak, and he listened, and now she was bitching him out for doing exactly what she'd asked!
---
He was capable of being quiet. He just rarely saw the point in it. But it seemed important to her, so he had done as she'd asked. He knew he was walking on eggshells as it was.
He could have walked off with just 'bye', but she seemed almost offended he didn't want to pry. He stood close to her, bending a little to get close to her face. "Nope," he assured her, smiling faintly. "It's none of my business." He knew it would make her crazy, confuse the shit outta her. That was kind of the appeal to it. He did kiss her forehead, though, smoothing her hair down. "I love you, Pey," he murmured, regretting it the moment it was out. But again... it would make her fucking crazy. And he loved to make her crazy. He did get out of the swing range as soon as possible, leaving her alone to think on that.
Out in the hall, he smiled to himself. Bad fucking day for starters.
---
Of course it drove her crazy. He was getting really damn good at pissing her off. Even though she wouldn't tell him what happened, she wanted him to ask. He was supposed to ask! He said he cared. If that was true, then he should fucking care what the hell was wrong with her, right? BASTARD!
But that so wasn't the worst of it. She wanted to smack him when he kissed her, but she didn't have the energy, and then... fuck. She hated that word. Her parents used that word, and they clearly didn't mean it. They would have kept her at home, or at least visited more often if they really loved her. "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH... I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU SO MUCH... DON'T YOU EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO ME AGAIN, EVER!" He had already walked out of her room and shut the door. Dammit, why wouldn't her body cooperate with her right now? She wanted to run out there and beat the shit out of him.
----
She was screaming at him from behind the door. She hated him? Ugh. He didn't even believe that. But she wasn't just suprised, or annoyed, she was fucking angry. At him. And he didn't want to take that. So he went back inside, ready for a fight. At least she couldn't physically hurt him now. He stood next to the bed, arms crossed. "Fuck you," he said simply. "Don't you fucking tell me what I can't say, how I'm supposed to feel!" His eyes grew dark, cold. He parted his lips slightly, his fangs bared. "You are selfish, and stupid, and stubborn, and mean. You make everyone around you insane because you have this stupid theory that if you push people away, they'll push back harder and prove that they're worth your time. Well no one is going to, Peyton! No one is going to put up with your shit and break down the thousands of walls you put up to keep them out! They're gonna walk away and find someone who isn't such a cunt to them."
He leaned closer to her, keeping his voice low. "Except me. I'm still fucking here. I'm still taking your shit and picking you up and keeping my mouth shut. And I fucking love you. I'm in fucking love with you. Deal with it."
---
Even though Peyton was pissed at him and screaming at him and wanting to hit him, she kinda didn't want him walking back in the room. She couldn't properly argue with him right now. She wasn't up to the physical or mental demands of the task. But there was was again, bitching at her again. Damn him!
Everything he said was true. And it hurt. It hurt a lot. She just couldn't handle any more pain right now. And when he told her he was in love with her, fucking in love... she lost it... but probably not in the way he might have been expecting.
Peyton starting crying. Not just a few little tears either, she was bawling. Her body was so sore, but she still managed to curl up in a ball and pull the pillow to her face so she could sob into it. It all hurt so much. She was in agony.
---
Fuck. He hadn't expected tears.
Immediately his harsh exterior crumbled. "No, no," he begged, trying to see her face. "Don't cry. I'm sorry, Pey, I... I didn't mean it." But he had meant it. He meant every word of it and they both knew it. He took her pillow from her gently, trying to see her face. "Pey," he said gently, but she was covering her face with her arms now. This was probably worse than if she'd screamed at him. No, scratch that. This was definitely worse. He should have left, should have just gone, kept walking. Instead, he laid himself down next to her, pulling her against his chest. She was so tiny, so little. He felt useless again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered against the top of her head, kissing it. He meant it, too. He couldn't remember ever being more sorry.
---
Peyton didn't have the energy to fight him on anything. It was amazing she even had the energy to cry. She was so tired right now, and she was a total emotional wreck. At this rate, she was never gonna get her hands on that damn morning after pill! Maybe Lelia would go to the infirmary on campus for Peyton, and see if they'd give it to her. Peyton didn't so much care about getting in trouble anymore, at least not with the whole no sex rule, she just wanted to make sure she wasn't knocked up by a demon with a split personality!
Still, that was far from her primary concern right now. She was a wreck over what Lyle had said. It opened up the flood gates. She didn't want him telling her that he loved her, because that just meant he was gonna make her care and then leave her! He pulled her to him as he climbed into bed with her, and she didn't protest, even though that just made her physical and emotional pain worse. It built up to a level that made her scared, and she finally pushed at him, though her muscles were too weak to push very hard. "Don't... don't do this to me," she sobbed, wanting him to leave her alone.
---
If Peyton had asked him to go, he would have. He would have in a heartbeat. More likely he'd have asked Wesley at the infirmary to get it, but he still would have gotten it. He sure as hell didn't want Peyton having this guy's baby either.
Her protests were weak at best, and Lyle didn't have any intention of leaving. She was a mess, she was tired, and the thought of her having to stay here alone and cry broke his heart into a thousand pieces. So when she pushed him away he pulled her closer. Lyle stroked her hair, rubbed her back. "Shut up, Pey," he said quietly. "For once in your life, just..." Just accept someone's love. Stop trying to be so tough. Let someone see you cry. "....just shut up."
---
Half of her wanted him to leave her alone to cry, but the other have really liked having him here holding her. She felt almost like Dante and Roger. She was of two minds at the moment. One side totally hated Lyle, the other... well, the other side at least cared for him. She didn't love him, because that was an emotion that would take a hell of a lot more time for Peyton to develop. It came easy to some people, but not for her. She only loved one person, and that was Rez. She'd stopped loving her family a few years ago, right about the time when they stopped coming to see her.
She actually listened to him when he told her to shut up. It was easier to just be quiet right now, except for the sound of sobbing. But even that faded eventually. She was still crying, but she wasn't so hysterical about it. Instead, she just wept, her tears making his shirt wet. It took a few minutes, but she fell asleep. Her body couldn't go without it any longer.
---
He waited until she was asleep before leaving, before he untagled himself from her, making sure the blanket covered her. She looked a lot younger, a lot sadder. He touched her face lightly, smiling a little. She was impossible and she had him completely crazy.
He spotted her laptop on her desk, sat himself quietly in the chair and typed her out a quick note. Closing the screen, Lyle took one last look at Peyton, making sure she was breathing okay. Satisfied, he turned off the light and closed the door behind him.
Pey-
Forget I said anything, if you want. Stay mad at me if that makes it easier. Just know that I meant it.
~Lyle