Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Coffee tastes like poopy-shit."

Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me
  • Create Account
  • IJ Login
  • OpenID Login
Search by : 
  • View
    • Create Account
    • IJ Login
    • OpenID Login
  • Journal
    • Post
    • Edit Entries
    • Customize Journal
    • Comment Settings
    • Recent Comments
    • Manage Tags
  • Account
    • Manage Account
    • Viewing Options
    • Manage Profile
    • Manage Notifications
    • Manage Pictures
    • Manage Schools
    • Account Status
  • Friends
    • Edit Friends
    • Edit Custom Groups
    • Friends Filter
    • Nudge Friends
    • Invite
    • Create RSS Feed
  • Asylums
    • Post
    • Asylum Invitations
    • Manage Asylums
    • Create Asylum
  • Site
    • Support
    • Upgrade Account
    • FAQs
    • Search By Location
    • Search By Interest
    • Search Randomly
Tiffany Maxwell doesn't give a fuck what you think ([info]dirtyandsloppy) wrote in [info]valarlogs,
@ 2013-07-24 10:57:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Who: Tiffany and Wally
When: Mid July
Where: Her place
What: Wally says something Tiffany isn't ready for
Rating/Warning: PG, for mentions of mental illness, medication, sex
Status: Complete

cozy</i>--kitchen, where there was only enough room for two people at the table. She gestured to the chairs, still trying to get her bearings after spending so much time at the computer, and started pouring water into the coffee pot.

“I have a headache,” she mumbled. “I waited too long.”

Wally debated for a moment suggesting she take some Tylenol for the headache. Then he decided it was a bad idea, considering the reason he was there in the first place. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say as he followed her into the tiny kitchen.

She was quiet as she set up the Mr. Coffee, measuring out grounds, pouring the water into the tank. Tiffany finished by pushing a button that lit up, and the pot crackled to life. “It’s just so weird,” she said, turning around. “And it pisses me off that my Dream-self self-destructs.”

She was so beautiful. Wally simply watched her as she made the coffee, taking in the shape of her. Her delicate hands, the curve of her hip, the fall of her hair. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was. Probably not. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

Tiffany slid into the chair across from him, massaging her forehead. “I don’t even know anymore. I mean... isn’t this me, under different circumstances? Everyone else’s dreams are like that, only they get powers and magic. I get... the knowledge that I can’t cope.” The knowledge that she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was.

Because Wally hadn't had any of these Dreams, he felt ill-equipped to help Tiffany deal with hers. He sat opposite her, wishing he had something more to offer, thinking that he didn't deserve her attention. He had so little to offer, and she was so perfect. She deserved so much better. "I don't know what it is." He was trying.

She sighed. She knew Wally wasn’t one of the ones who had Dreams. Maybe he never would be. Was that something she could rely on to keep her grounded, like it did now, or something that would slowly separate them. Tiffany felt so stupid and weird, turning into a basket case, or what she felt was like a basket case.

“I threw all the pill bottles in a drawer,” she said, rubbing her face.

“Do you want me to take care of them for you?” Wally asked. He worried some of the same things, to be completely honest. He worried that this was going to come between them--even though he still didn’t know what was happening between them. “...do you think you should talk to someone about it?”

Her hand fell, revealing a glare. What the fuck? Was Wally insinuating she needed to talk to a shrink? “I’m talking to you.”

This was more about his insecurities than his worries about her mental stability. He looked apologetic as he responded, "But I'm not helping."

The fire in her eyes cooled quickly, as she figured out what he’d actually meant by the comment. She scrubbed her face and again and rose to pour the coffee. “I’m talking to you,” she said again, this time, much softer.

“I know.” Wally watched her move to pour the coffee, wishing there was more that he could do. If he could, he’d make her problems disappear. He’d do whatever it took. He pulled himself up out of his chair to stand next to her as she poured, bringing one hand to tentatively rest on her back. “I’m here.” ...lame.

But it wasn’t lame. Not even a little bit. Who else was here? Who else checked in to make sure was okay. Tiffany chewed on her bottom lip as she poured the coffee into two cups. “You only just met me, but you care about me.” It sounded a little like a question, the way her voice went up at the end, or maybe it was only wavering.

“I think I more than only just met you.” Wally said, frowning a little. It almost felt like she was... belittling what they’d had together? It made him wonder if he didn’t mean as much to her as she meant to him. Oh, doubt. Poor Wally was full of doubt. “And I more than just care about you.”

Tiffany passed Wally his cup, staring upward with her large eyes. She wanted him here, but she also wanted to be strong enough that this wasn’t happening. And now... she felt cold. What... just what was Wally trying to say?

Wally was desperate for something--anything--to come along and stop him saying those three words that were desperate to jump out of his mouth. He accepted the coffee and lifted it to his lips, taking a sip before even gauging how hot it was. Of course, it was straight out of the pot, and scalded his tongue right off the bat. Shit.

He sputtered into the cup and lowered it. Any semblance of a moment was gone. He knew this would be the absolute wrong time to say it.

Tiffany caught the mug as Wally pulled it away from his singed tongue. She decided to pour him a glass of water and fumbled with everything in her hands as she did so. Geez, what an awkward morning. “Here, sip this,” she said, handing him the water.

Wally gave an embarrassed smile as he accepted the water, then sipped. That helped. "Thanks," he said. "Should have known the coffee would be hot."

She smiled lopsidedly at him, moving the coffee mugs to the table. “Yeah, well thank goodness I was only carrying iced coffee when we first ran into each other.”

"That would have been just my luck," Wally responded, playfully. There was a numb spot on his tongue now. He moved to the table and set down the water, too. "Still would have given you my shirt."

Tiffany Mmm’d appreciatively, sort of purring. Her smiles were coming more easily now. Her Dreams seemed further away. Wally was a comforting presence, even with all his awkwardness. He was a stand-up guy, and there were so few of those.

Wally turned to her, feeling that she was calming down, and wrapped his arms down and around he to tug her close. He couldn’t help it. Every time he was near her, he wanted to have her in his arms. It was part of how much he cared for her, part of those three words he was so desperate and terrified to actually voice out loud. “I’d give you my shirt any day.” ...this was Wally’s lame attempt at flirtation.

Her eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of him holding her. Thinking about their first meeting was a much nicer daydream than anything that came to her at night. “It’s actually quite easy to get you to remove it,” she flirted back, far more naturally.

Wally gave a little laugh. “That’s... very true.” He turned to press his face into her hair. She had some sort of spell over him, he couldn’t deny it. “Easy for you, anyway.”

Now, she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face into Wally’s chest. Were there three words quivering inside her, too? Tiffany didn’t want to think that deeply. Everything was so deep lately. She just wanted a little peace, a little happiness. “Glad it’s not easy for everyone,” she said, half-muffled.

"No. Just for you." Oh, man. Wally was so smitten. So smitten. He was head over heels and it was just occurring to him now. He was realizing in that moment that he'd fallen in love with Tiffany. "I love you."

Her eyes snapped open, her face still pressed into the fabric of Wally’s shirt. There was nowhere to look but directly into the threads. Slowly, Tiffany pulled back. There was a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “You love me?”

Wally was both confident in his own feelings, and a little terrified how she was going to react now he’d said it out loud. Though, it might have been obvious from the way that he acted around her. He was a smitten puppy dog. Looking back on it, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t figured it all out sooner. “Yeah.” He responded, softly. “I do.”

“Oh...” Tiffany’s eyes fluttered, moving much more than her lips were at this point. Her mind was thinking deep, philosophical things: what was love? what caused someone to fall in love? was it a fleeting thing like everything else? These were dangerous waters. Her heart hammered in her ears. Shit. What the hell was she supposed to say? She wasn’t ready for love, not right now.

Wally swallowed. Well, she wasn’t saying anything back. Did that mean she didn’t love him back? Did that mean maybe she did, but she wasn’t ready to say it? If she didn’t, did that matter to him? It wasn’t like people just sort of fell together, did they? His feelings could come faster than hers. He hoped faster, and not one-sided. It wouldn’t matter, would it? Crap, now he was over-thinking it. He lifted a hand to run through his hair, awkwardly. This went from nice to awkward rather quickly.

“Sorry.” Wally said, more like mumbled, taking a half step back. “But I do.”

She felt her heart sink further, as more ice gripped her. The world around her had just started to soften at the edges, and now things felt deathly serious all over again. It wasn’t really about her inability to say it back, it what that he’d said it and now everything was different. “Crap. I really wish you hadn’t said that.”

Wally let out a sigh--a big, gush of air he hadn’t realized had been trapped in his chest--and raised his eyebrows. “I’m... sorry?” He said again, though he wasn’t sure why he should be sorry. It wasn’t something to be sorry about, was it? Though, she really wasn’t saying it back. She didn’t seem like she felt it, either. Crap. Double crap.

“...I can go.” He offered, not wanting to stay where he wasn’t … wanted.

Tiffany lowered her head. “Shit...” she muttered through clenched teeth. “I just, can’t, right now. I can’t do things like that.” Her tone was sharp, annoyed, angry. Geez, why did he have to go and change everything all of a sudden? Wally was all she’d had and now he wasn’t the same thing anymore.

It wasn’t the same. Did that make it bad? Wally was frowning. “Okay. You don’t have to do anything.” He said, sounding confused and … maybe a little sad. This wasn’t turning out the way he’d hoped, but at least she hadn’t kicked him out. Yet.

“But it’s... like... gonna hang over me now.” She was started to sputter, with her heart still pounding and her brain trying to catch up. “We like each other. We like being together. The sex is awesome. But now... I don’t even know.”

The frown was resident on Wally’s face. He really didn’t know how to respond. This was definitely turning into something he didn’t like. “I’m sorry if I’ve... made something hang over you.”

She'd hit a wall and she folded her arms, holding herself protectively. "Okay, maybe you should go."

“Okay.” Wally said, sounding defeated. He turned to head for the door to let himself out.


(Read comments)

Post a comment in response:

From:
( )Anonymous- this asylum only allows commenting by members. You may comment here if you are a member of valarlogs.
( )OpenID
Username:
Password:
Don't have an account? Create one now.
Subject:
No HTML allowed in subject
  
Message:
 

Home | Site Map | Manage Account | TOS | Privacy | Support | FAQs