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 Posted: Tue Jan 14, 2014 10:40 pm
He blew out his breath in a frustrated sigh that was half an incredulous laugh. "It's not necessarily wrong, but Stormy, I'm really not all that perfect. I try to do what's right, I follow my orders, I do my duty, and I protect the people I care about, but that doesn't mean that I'm flawless."
It was hard for her, Gale knew, to accept what he was telling her because she had spent all this time believing something different; and it was like telling a bird to change to swimming instead of flying, trying to tell Stormy to think a different way than how she was used to, what she had ingrained into herself the entire time. And it had been her thinking, her way with words, the very essence of Stormy Ortega that Gale had fallen in love with in the first place, he knew that.
But he also knew that if he didn't get through to her, if he couldn't get her to understand, than he would lose her. He already felt as though she were drifting further away, and he was trying desperately to hold onto it, onto this one aspect of his life that he wanted more than anything in the world.
"My goal," said Gale, and his thumbs brushed over her cheeks as he tried to keep everything under control, "was you. I've already gotten to the point where I wanted. I spent all my time on Deus focusing on proving that I was good, that I was better, that I was good at what I did because I was younger than everyone. But I've already done that; I've already made my point, and after that, my only goal was to be with you."
It was sentimental, probably, and a little foolish; perhaps it might even have sounded melodramatic, but it was true anyway, even if the words were garbled and messy and mixed up. What he'd already gotten out of Deus was the respect he knew he deserved, and now what he wanted was right here in front of him, her face red, her eyes brimming with tears.
Stormy's hand reached out and pressed against his chest, and Gale drew a small, sharp breath, his heart skipping a beat. He kept his gaze, however, his eyes on hers, his hands still on either side of her warm, flushed face. "One day," he softly. "One day, I will have all the pieces to the puzzle known as Stormy Ortega, but until then I will wait."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes to linger there for a long moment. Then he tilted his head and rested his own forehead against the top of her head, Gale breathing in slow, deep inhales and exhales.
"You're not broken," he said. "You're not a problem to be fixed. Just...let me be me, and let you be you, and let me tell you things like how much I love you and how much you mean to me and how beautiful I think your words are, and believe me when I tell you them so that you can remember them later."Ol-j-man I feel like we only just barely got to page 5 and look page 6 whee
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Posted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 3:22 am
For a minute Stormy thought there had been another communication error. When she'd begged Gale to tell her how to fix things, she thought she had meant just the situation itself--the symptom was easier to treat than the disease after all. But while listening to him, it all clicked.
You're not broken. You're not a problem to be fixed.
Was it possible to talk about two different things and still have the same meaning? She hadn't considered the connection, but now that it made its way into her mind there was a new clarity to her memories: the constant apologies, the times she tried too hard to compensate for something, the over-eagerness to please and be rewarded with praise--all because of one innate notion that she could and would fail. These thoughts in small doses, though, less extreme doses of being ready to apologize and learn, the drive to go beyond what is expected, and the pleasure of helping others, were normal. So congratulations, Stormy, you're abnormal, she thought, just like you knew all along. Here's your medal. Aren't you proud?
Stop, stop, stop.
Her eyes moved from left to right, almost as if they were trying to read lines written on Gale's face. It was obvious he had struck a chord this time, after many words and several tries to impart the sentiment: it was almost written out on Stormy's face as well, shame evolving into confusion, slow processing (word by word, almost letter by letter), then faster processing (reading him), and then piecing it together for herself one more time, then a second last time, and then a third just to be extra sure.
Not broken. Not a problem.
Not broken. Not a problem.
How much I love you. How much you mean to me.
Not a broken problem.
So that you can remember. So had he noticed it, then? Had Gale noticed that she knew details, quotes almost word for word, because of how much she revisited her memories? That she fell back on the past like a crutch and was quick to think back on it and lose herself, moreso than she did the present or future? It wasn't as if she had tried hiding it before, this messy habit of hers.
Thinking, always thinking. Forwards, backwards, sideways, upside-down. It was absurd that she could think of six impossible things before breakfast and yet get so caught up in things that were not only possible, but real and right in front of her, as Gale had said.
Then again, when reality and fantasy were pitted together, she had up until then had bias for the latter: the transition was still jarring and reluctant and left Stormy feeling vulnerable against the unknown, that which she could not control in her mind. It was why she was barely aware she was crying, that the noises she was unconsciously stifling (do not make a scene, do not take attention away from others) were just more sobs, more of which came when Gale had finished speaking, had kissed her brow in a way that reminded her of benediction. No, she was far more aware of the way he looked at her, of what those words meant, of what no longer needed to be added because she was slowly and truly accepting it: I have never lied to you.
Then...Then. A goal. Wonderful. Beautiful. Loved. Her heart began to beat like mad without its defenses, and then it skipped a beat. A small gap between life and death, something constant she didn't know she needed until it was gone.
Something constant. Something necessary to life. Someone.
"I was wrong," she whispered reverently. "You're not with the angels. You are one."
It didn't matter that he had flaws or that he would probably find some way to shrug it off--Stormy could hope that this deal was a two way street and that he would have to believe her, too.
Without warning her hand grasped at his clothes and sharply tugged him towards her. Her other hand slid away from her scar and onto him to steady the landing, but the rest of her was emotional and irrationally believed that if she didn't seize him now then they would both float away. And as one hand latched to his clothes, the other turned his head so that she could kiss him properly--trying to mumble something at first against his lips, a byproduct of trying to explain herself still, before giving up and letting herself, and her gratitude, and her adoration, sink more and more against Gale. It was bothersome that the ache inside still fueled her tears, but what mattered was showing what this meant to her, what acceptance really meant after so long of being told to settle.
"I will keep a piece a-at least, actually," Stormy managed in the brief moments she remembered how to breathe, a trembling smile appearing as more tears fell. "Just a little something to keep you guessing and making those frustrated noises." It was a weak tease, but she became too preoccupied with kissing what she could of him to care.
xkurotomato that's the beautiful part <3 also wow I hope this post makes sense thrjjskakdnsksms
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Posted: Wed Jan 15, 2014 11:04 pm
He wondered whether, for the first time, if he'd managed to get through to her, if he'd actually managed to make Stormy understand what it was that he was trying to say. There was no telling what her brain would interpret it as, which was part of the reason why he loved her so much; but at the same time he needed a literal interpretation, not an abstract one.
Stormy was silent, her eyes staring as they moved across his face, and Gale just stayed where he was, his fingers gentle on the sides of her head. He could make out several emotions that flitted across her expression, but they were mixed with others, each one shifting too fast for him to grasp at understanding it.
He hoped he'd said the right thing.
(Maybe he hadn't.)
He hoped he'd made his point.
(He actually thought perhaps he'd overdone it.)
"Stormy?" said Gale quietly, after the silence had stretched too long and too far for him to feel comfortable with, especially after everything that he had just spilled from his heart - that they had both just spilled. He wanted to ask her a thousand questions, but he also wanted to keep quiet and just let her work things out on her own, because rushing her, pushing her into making a decision was something he would do.
Not me, Gale thought firmly to himself, not me because I am better than that arsehole.
(Am I, though?)
Stormy's voice finally broke the silence and Gale's heart skipped a beat. He tilted his head, confusion at the statement preceding embarrassment at the compliment. He opened his mouth to negate this, to remind her that he was not perfect no matter what she thought, but any words he'd been going to say were completely and abruptly blown away the second she grabbed onto him. Gale felt Stormy's lips against his, and shock made him freeze for just a moment before he remembered that the proper thing to do here was to respond. Which he did, with a warmth and firmness, moving his hands from her face to wrap his arms around her waist instead.
"Don't cry," he said, his voice muffled against the force of her kiss, and Gale pulled Stormy forward, half into his lap, a small smile making him curve his lips upwards against hers. One of his hands moved itself from Stormy's waist to touch her cheek, Gale brushing a thumb beneath her eye to wipe away the tears that made her cheeks wet and flushed. "Don't cry, my love."
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Posted: Thu Jan 16, 2014 2:02 am
She didn't notice any hesitation on his part, too caught up in her own relief to catch something as minor as that. At best Stormy was aware of being pulled forward, of being held, and of being kissed back, and then eventually aware that he was trying to tell her something. Don't cry.
But you always do. No experience with Stormy was complete without a few or several hundred tears shed. She hadn't even noticed how much she was crying until Gale pointed it out--and then quite suddenly it was a crime to continue. It wasn't proper, no sir, she shouldn't be crying so much, because hadn't she done enough by now? It was stunning she still felt like there was plenty left to get out, but nevertheless she mumbled an apology (several of them, just to be sure) and ducked her head away from his hand so that she could smear her face into her arm and shoulder. Stop it. She'd already made a fool out of herself long enough, and it was time to get back to the central focus of the night which was celebrating the conglomerate birthday-Christmas Eve and spending time together.
"Sorry," she said some more, sniffling. "Sorry, s-sorry, it's one of those hard to stop things once it's started." Stormy took another wipe at her eyes and sighed. "And when you have thoughts going a mile a minute, one second you're happy and then the next you're sad, a-and--" She paused again to take another deep breath, embarrassed with herself, and puffed it out and upward. It made her notice her bangs were getting glued to her forehead with sweat, and she started to pick at them.
"They're mostly happy, honest, if, um, you couldn't tell," Stormy quickly added, though she made a small face as she became very aware of her head hurting. And her chest. And the bruise still. "Nnnng. Hostia. Por que me jodas . . ." Hair fixing turned into temple massaging and more sniffling. "¿Ni siquiera un poco de descanso? ¿O es un crimen para besar uno de los ángeles?" She wanted to sag against Gale again, but the coffee table was probably not nearly as comfy as the couch; she was taking enough by not choosing to move and let him stand.
"Sorry." Maybe the five-hundreth one would stick. With red-rimmed eyes she surveyed Gale with a small, wincing smile, like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. "Maybe we should start this whole night over?"
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Posted: Thu Jan 16, 2014 9:56 pm
The gesture of Stormy pushing her face against her arm to wipe her cheeks was so reminiscent of a cat that Gale almost laughed - almost. As it was, a faint, gently fond expression had come across his face, and he smoothed back some of her sweaty hair, fingers sliding through the short reddish strands.
"I love it when you speak Spanish," said Gale, and this time he really did laugh, quiet and gentle. "But I never understand any of it. Still, it's another piece to you, and I like knowing that you can speak a different language because I can't speak anything other than English, and sometimes not even that."
His thumb smoothed over Stormy's brow tenderly. Leaning over like this was making his back start to ache, but that was not really something that he cared about, at least not at the current moment. The well-being of his girlfriend was a much more pressing matter.
"Stop apologizing," said Gale, gently reprimanding, and curled his fingers against Stormy's temple, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind one ear. "And that's a good idea, I think. New beginnings usually mean that we can look at things better, right?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 12:04 am
The natural impulse to being told to stop apologizing was, of course, an apology for apologizing so much. "Sorry. I'll stop."For maybe all of five minutes, knowing her.
She sniffled again as Gale doted on her, softening. "Oh, um, that, yeah, sor--" At least she stopped herself. "That was just me being dumb. Hostia is the Host," Stormy explained. "Like the Host in Catholicism. It's sorta like saying 'God' as an interjection or an oath. The rest, hah . . . The rest was just me asking if everything hurt as punishment for, um, kissing an angel." The last part was mumbled as more color rose to her cheeks; if Gale hadn't been doing so, she would have been fixing her hair self-consciously.
New beginnings. Right.
Sliding from his lap, Stormy settled back on the couch and leaned to take his hands, tugging them gently to try and prompt him to come back over and not letting go regardless of his choice. "Right, so." She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. "Hello, Gale! Merry Christmas Eve~ You look very dashing tonight--" And then she paused and tilted her head curiously. "Oh! You did something with your hair, I see! Now it's sunset instead of sunrise," she observed with a little smile. "I like it! What made you choose red, though?"
Try and get back to something normal.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 10:11 pm
The apology for her apologies made him smile a little in spite of himself, Gale wrapping his hand around Stormy's and squeezing gently; though as she kept talking, his face grew steadily redder, until it nearly matched the one shade in his newly colored hair.
"You're not...that's not..." he said, slightly embarrassed, but a part of him was pleased at her attentiveness, at her compliments, even if he didn't quite think they were true. He squeezed her fingers again and shifted off of the table to sit beside Stormy, sideways on the couch, but still allowing a little space between them.
"Just chose it on a whim," Gale answered her, a little ruefully, reaching up to tug on one vibrant lock. "I definitely didn't want to do pink, or magenta, or anything, and I didn't really think I'd look good in other colors."
He gave a shrug. "So I finally decided on a few shades of red, just to give it a little burst."
Yes, conversation was good. Conversation was normal.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 11:32 pm
"Nothing wrong with pink," she teased. "But it does look good~ Although with all that hair you've got now, consider this a warning: I'm tempted to braid it!" Or at the very least ruffle it, which she had a strange compulsion to do--touching, touching, always touching--but restrained herself from. Having been invasive before, it was probably a good idea to leave Gale some space.
Stormy's hands fiddled in her lap instead. "I was thinking of dying my hair for my birthday, too. Or getting a tattoo. Something to shake it up, like you did. I don't really have any ideas, though . . ." That was a lie; she just didn't want to explain herself, because it would only get awkward again.
And then nothing else came out. Where were the words? Hello? Talking?? She'd forgotten that small talk was not her forte, let alone normal small talk.
"Um . . . if you don't want anything else, I can clean the table up for you?" Stormy offered with a little smile. "The movie offer still stands, too." At least it didn't feel as stilted as it had in the kitchen, where everything had been treated as fragile--but there were still degrees of that here. She had no idea how to continue normally after all of this, but she knew the more she floundered, the more Gale would as well.
She also knew that keeping things moving seemed to do the trick. A rolling stone gathered no moss, after all. Nor did they remember silly letters she'd rather be forgotten.
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Posted: Sat Jan 18, 2014 11:17 pm
He gave a laugh, and it felt good to laugh, almost a relief, because it was something so very normal, and so very simple. The saying was laughter is the best medicine, after all, Gale thought, and perhaps that was right; perhaps that simplicity was what he needed.
What they both needed.
His eyebrows raised. "What color would you dye it?" he asked her with a smile. "Or what tattoo? I thought about getting one, but," he laughed again, rather sheepishly, "I think I'd be too bloody chicken, really. And when's your birthday, you haven't told me yet."
Stormy was fiddling with her hands and Gale's expression softened. He reached out and took one of hers, squeezing lightly. "A movie sounds good," he said gently. "I'm okay with that."
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Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2014 12:39 am
"Dunno. Maybe something like honey or orange, maybe a really good red. Or maybe I'll just go completely white so Bix won't feel lonely," she joked, encouraged by his laughter. It was clear that she was more self-conscious about the tattoos, though, and she hesitated. "Ah . . . Tattoos are more personal, you know? Have to be really picky. There's only three that keep coming back to me: a bird, a cage, and a water lily."
None of which Stormy wanted to elaborate on because that was potentially bad feelings town again, and she was determined not to give in again tonight. Still, she gave Gale a look and tilted her head at the mention of her birthday. "Mm? I did tell you, though, in my room a few weeks back." Then came the wincing smile that made it easier to continue joking about things, treating the past with good humor like she ought to instead of the melancholic view she was prone to instead. "You know, before I got drunk and stupid. You told me yours--December 6th--and then I told you mine: February 29th. Since that doesn't exist in 2014, more than likely I'll be going with the 28th as the date."
< < You are not honestly upset a detail was forgotten. > >
I'm not.
(Just a little, though. Birthdays mattered to her.)
But Stormy swept the thought under the rug as Gale agreed to the movie, nodding. "Right, then!" Squeezing his fingers as if in apology for the separation, she slid her hand away, turned to get the flower print bag from before, and dug around. There were clothes she had to get past, more than was necessary for one night, and something like paper rustled within. Eventually she produced Lilo and Stitch, since that was one Gale had mentioned he hadn't seen, as well as the converted DVD player.
"One of my favorites," she informed him happily as she put the bag back down and began setting them up. "I think you'll like it, especially if you happen to like Elvis's music. Plus it'll be like taking a mini vacation on the beach! I'll warn you, though." Stormy gave him an utterly serious look. "There's a scene in there about The Ugly Duckling story, and I swear to you I will cry."
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Posted: Sun Jan 19, 2014 9:56 pm
Some part of Gale froze in place, his expression shifting from one of pleasant laughter to one of shock to one of shame. "I'm sorry," he said immediately, his shoulders sagging a little. "You're right, you did tell me, I was just a prat and didn't remember. I'll remember now, though, I promise, and it'll be a great birthday, a special one."
He squeezed her fingers, trying to let her know that he was reassuring her. "And I like the really good red idea, by the way," Gale added, with a small, slightly hesitant smile as he tried to move past his momentary hiccup. "I haven't ever gotten a tattoo myself, not sure what I would get at all..."
Stormy shifted to get everything in place and Gale curled up on the couch, kicking his shoes off and letting them drop to the floor. He folded his legs beneath him and settled back, waiting for Stormy to finish so that she could sit beside hm.
Gale laughed. "Thanks for the warning," he told her affectionately, and then lifted his arm almost shyly; an invitation for her to curl up next to him if she wanted.
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2014 12:37 am
"You're not a prat," she reprimanded him gently. "There were a lot of things going on that night." Not everyone reviewed their memories so obsessively. But she was appeased by the promise nevertheless and was silently going to hold Gale to it.
Following his example, Stormy slid her boots off with some difficulty, adjusted her socks, and checked to make sure the DVD player was running smoothly. A small chuckle left her as the commercials glitched out on them, the voiceover warping and breaking apart, before she remembered to hit the fast forward button. As the familiar music of the main menu played, she grabbed a handful of chocolate coffee beans and turned to see Gale's invitation.
There was a slight pause, and then with an affectionate look she scooted under his arm, tucked her legs, and nestled against him, the sweets caged between her hand and chest until she was comfortable. It was like sinking against something fresh from the dryer, warm and soothing . . . She watched the DVD cycle through the main menu animations once, knowing all she had to do was reach over and hit play and yet arrested by the need to ask one question.
The nine year old's voice came back. "We're okay, right?" Stormy tilted her head a little to look at him, brows turned with a small, quiet concern. "Even after everything?"
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Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 10:51 am
Gale leaned back into the couch, plucking up the block of chocolate again to nibble at one of the corners. He let his arm fall around Stormy comfortably, snuggling against her (but still giving her a little wiggle room if she needed the space), and for the first time since the evening had started, he felt truly normal.
Stormy's voice came to him, quiet and worried, and Gale turned his head to look at her, swallowing his bite of chocolate. Leaning over, he pressed his lips tenderly against her forehead in a gentle kiss before moving back again.
"Yeah," he said, and squeezed her shoulders gently. "We're okay."
"We're okay."
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Posted: Tue Jan 21, 2014 1:32 pm
Okay was good. Okay didn't demand anything strenuous, nor did it invite the need to meet some sort of requirement. Okay was what she had told him when she finally said yes months ago, because she hadn't held expectations of the future, hadn't wanted to ask anything of Gale because she knew it was something new for him, that their relationship was something to be treated casually yet carefully. And now it was something much, much more.
'Okay' wasn't what she should have wanted, but it was what she felt she deserved.
Humming with relief, Stormy let her head rest against him and focused on the screen once more. "Okay." She let the sweets settle in her lap, plucked one, and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. By the time she swallowed, another question had manifested with equal hesitation.
"I brought some've my stuff in that bag. Mostly clothes. I was wondering, um..." Stormy's gaze was very fixed on the screen with the intensity of the quietly nervous, though her tone was level. "May I leave some stuff behind? In the spare room, I mean. Just in case, ah, something happens and I need a change of clothes."
It sounded better in her head. Less implications. Her fingers curled around the chocolates, metaphorically cringing.
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Posted: Thu Jan 23, 2014 8:35 pm
"Okay" was not "great" and it was not "perfect," but it was better than terrible or, even worse, heartbreaking or devastating; and Gale would have taken "okay" in a heartbeat compared to the other alternatives that might have occurred, considering how the evening had gone so far.
Gale settled back against Stormy and tilted his head a little so that his was slanted against hers, though both of their gazes were at the little screen in front of him. It was a long moment before he replied, and when he did, his voice was soft.
"That room is yours for whenever you need it," he said quietly. "Leave whatever you want; everything will be here waiting for you when you have need of it."
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