Ronnie Avery (totus_vobis) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-10-12 17:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | caradoc dearborn, evan rosier |
Who: Evan and Caradoc
What: Talking again
When: Tuesday during work hours
Where: The beach
Rating / Status: TBD / Incomplete
Note: This is reposted from a couple weeks ago, cause it got lost in all of the confusion of life.
Evan: They needed to talk, that much was for certain. Evan had avoided opening his luggage, but it had eventually opened itself. And it all revolved around Caradoc. Which should have been obvious. Most of his major regrets in life had to deal with Cara, he was the most important person, after all. And he had done so many things to hurt him.
Taking a break, not like too many people ever came into the Tiki Hut anyway, Evan made his way down to the beach. Despite their jobs being so interlocked, they rarely ever saw each other, and that had to change.
Evan sat on the sand, down by the waters edge, and pulled his knees up to his chest, waiting for Caradoc to remove himself from the water. They needed to talk.
Caradoc: Caradoc thought he was finally getting the hang (no pun intended) of surfing. Catching the waves was the easy part. Staying up on the board was another issue entirely, but today, things were going well. After all, if he was supposed to teach others how to surf, he figured he'd best try to at least master the basics. Plus, it gave him yet another excuse to avoid the Tiki Hut. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Evan - no, that wasn't the case at all, because Caradoc firmly believed that there would never come a time in his life that he wouldn't love his boyfriend. His ex-boyfriend. Whatever Evan was to him now.
It was just that he didn't know what to say. How could they just gloss over what had happened, back where they came from? How could he ever look at Evan again and not see that last horrible night?
Out here in the waves there was peace. There was freedom and emptiness of mind. He didn't have to think, he just had to be. To be one with the board and move with the waves and focus only on the positioning of his feet and the shift of his weight. It was easier. Less painful. Cathartic, almost. Which was what he needed, to heal. His body was in much better shape, though he suspected he would carry the scars for the rest of his life here - however long that was.
Now he just needed to get over the bitterness and the darkness that seemed to be welling from his very soul. Evan was the Death Eater, not him. So why did he feel so bleak, except when surrounded by miles of water?
He caught one more wave and rode it nearly to shore before he spotted Evan sitting in the sand. Taking just a moment to kneel in the shallows on the pretense of wetting his hair, Caradoc gazed through the dripping strands at the other man, remembering without trying all the things that he loved: the dark, silky skin that he could never get enough of touching, enough of kissing, enough of claiming. The even darker hair that he'd run his fingers through the first time they made out. The heart that he knew, even after being twisted, still belonged to him. In some manner, anyway. The thought made him want to weep, sitting there in the surf. Finally he stood and shook the excess moisture from his head, picking up the board as he approached Evan.
"Hi."
Evan: Evan watched. He could have watched Caradoc all day. It would have made him happy. God, he loved that man. It was a shame that it took death for him to really figure that out. Death and piece of luggage which kept reminding him. It had opened it a few days ago and since then, he had tried to block it out. He didn't know where they were, if they were even so much as talking to each other or blatantly ignoring each other. He really didn't know. But there was no better time to find out then now.
Or whenever Cara decided to get out of the water. Evan wasn't sure if he could see him, but he was content to watch Cara work that surf board. His long, lean lines obvious even so far away. He was beautiful, scars and all.
By the time Caradoc finally came back to land, Evan knew he had been spotted, so he leaned back against the ground, eyes shut from the sun and arms crossed under his head. He was comfortable, and Merlin, he hoped he stayed that way. He knew he had no reason to allow himself to be comfortable around his ex, but he couldn't help himself. It was so easy to fall back into old habits, even when there was still the looming fear of being shot down and told to bugger off. Evan, despite this being completely out of character for him, wanted to be comfortable and relaxed and make things right again. He knew they had so much stuff to work through, but they had to make this right.
At the sound of Cara's voice above him, Evan smiled and pushed himself up so that he was propped against his elbows. First thing he took notice of was that what had once been open wounds were now closing and turning to scars. And even those just seemed to be right on Caradoc. Everything, from his long hair to his blood and toes, it was all perfect. And damn him for being that way! "You look good."