RP: Oh boy. Who: Terence & Silviya When: December 21st, 2008 Where: Terence's apartment What: The tea has been spilled, as it were. Warnings: NSFW
He'd known all along that this would happen. He'd known fully well that this could only have one possible ending and yet, there he'd been, going through with it anyway.
Because he was a fucking idiot. Because he was in love with this girl and completely and totally terrified to actually do anything about it.
Oh, sure, he put on a good show whenever he was forced to do press events, tolerate interviews, or sign autographs, easily sliding into the role of the cocky and confident Casanova.
... and then there was Silviya. He had no idea how she did it, but she had an unbelievable ability to get under his skin unlike anyone else he'd ever met. One-night stands had been a temporary, lackluster solution... but then, that had only been something he could turn to until Silviya turned up in his life once more. Not that he minded. It had just had the unfortunate side-effect of making his feelings for her ever-present. It was completely impossible to get her off his mind.
Which was, of course, what had led to their conversation last night. He kept reading it over and over, going over it in his head where he fucked up, where he should have had better fucking self-control and just kept his goddamn fucking mouth shut--
None of this would have happened if Marcus hadn't shown up at the event. That much he knew. It would have meant that he would have never turned to scotch as a distraction, would have been a good bit smarter about the allocation of his time...
Under normal circumstances, drinking heavily would have led to his being able to fall asleep easily. But yesterday's day-drinking had led to nothing but misery and insomnia. So by the time that there was a fucking knock at the door-- what fucking time was it, again? he really needed to fucking sleep-- he looked like absolute shit. He'd run out of scotch yesterday mid-afternoon, and he couldn't even bring himself to leave his goddamn flat to get more, instead turning to wine. Which meant that by the time he answered the door... he wasn't drunk. There wasn't even a hangover to make sense of the way he looked. He just looked miserable.
Of course, when he actually opened the door to see Silviya Capper of all people standing there, he couldn't even bring himself to care about it, just leaning against his doorframe as he looked at her. What the fuck was she doing here?