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 Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 8:23 pm
Marc didn't turn. But he waved his arm and motioned to the couch next to him. Or maybe to the footstool in front of him. It was all vaguely in the same direction. Part of him was upset that Hadrian didn't seem to be too defeated. Why wasn't the man crying, or yelling or something? He seemed so... calm. Some part of him picked up on the strain though, because he laughed.
"You're right." he said. His words weren't bitter, but they came out quieter then he had intended. Like a statement he wanted to turn into a murmur. "We can't let you get drunk at all."
He knew what had happened before too, and it was so ironic. Only twice, Thorn had said. And he didn't question the man, didn't wonder if it had been more than twice.
Because twice hurt enough. Any more, and Marc wouldn't know what to do with himself. So he sat there, jazz echoing down as the CD ended, and silence eating up what he didn't want to say.
Maybe Hadrian would...
Marc looked down at his drink.
Nah.
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 8:30 pm
Sitting on the couch instead, Hadrian could feel an almost desperate panic building up; and it was all he could do to keep it from spilling over into his actions, his voice. And as Marc spoke again, the man couldn't hold back the cringe at those words.
Yes. That was proof that Thorn had told him.
But...Marc wasn't yelling, or saying anything at all. Just sitting there. And that was even worse - because it just let him begin to dread what was about to happen.
And it was his fault.
As the silence stretched on, he found that it was working on his composure in an adverse manner...he could feel his vision grow blurry, though he managed to keep himself from actually crying.
And finally, as the silence grew too much for him, his gaze shifted from Marc's back to the ground. And he spoke, his voice trembling. Not the sound of someone crying, but the sound of someone who knows what's coming, and is filled with a sick dread.
And the words - they were sincere. But they way they were said suggested that he didn't expect them to change a single thing; he just...had to say something.
"...I'm sorry..."
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 8:42 pm
The words wrenched somewhere in his heart. It did, because Marc looked over, his head spinning so quickly that he thought there were seven Hadrian's, at first. That would make it easier then, wouldn't it? One for him, one for Thorn, and four for anyone else who wanted him too... wait. That made six. Oh. And one to work in the lab.
That way, maybe he wouldn't have to get hurt.
So he got up. He felt his stomach lurch at the change in altitude and felt something inside him shift as he put his hand on the arm of the chair for support. His gaze was hurt too. It was pained, and when he looked to see the man just standing there, it seemed to darken.
It hurt so much.
"It doesn't solve anything."
And then with a show of temper, he threw the glass he felt in his hand. He had enough sanity, enough control left that it didn't nick the mage at all as it sailed past his head to land on the wall. The resounding crash was enough to have his hand start to shake. Because only then, only after, he did he realize.
Well. He had already broken one. What did another make?
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 8:48 pm
Hadrian gave a violent flinch, but didn't move away. Just remained standing there, his head down - as if he was unable to look Marc in the eye. And he couldn't, he couldn't look at what he could already hear in Marc's voice - that pain.
He just...he couldn't look at him, not with the guilt of what he had done.
Perhaps he should have left when the glass was thrown, since it just showed the situation was beginning to spiral out of control - but he couldn't. Not yet.
Not without knowing what he already knew in his heart, but his mind refused to accept: that his lover was making this a permanent end. Maybe...maybe it was better that way. Because then he couldn't hurt Marc.
"I know."
Spoken softly, almost a whisper.
"I just -" he broke off there, tears attempting to get by and release..but he wouldn't let them. Then he continued, his voice choked, "I had to let you know that I am."
Sorry, that is.
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 8:54 pm
"What you are?"
Maybe it was deliberate, but he misunderstood the words entirely. Exhausted, as if that sentence had drained him, Marc sank to the floor, his legs extended in front of him and one hand on one knee, the other holding his head. It was... well.
"You're a whore."
The words left his mouth before he could hold them back. He had thought it of course, but the moment he had, the moment they left his mouth he felt dirty. Disgusted with himself, with the world.
With the man in front of him.
His eyes flew to, fastening on the face and looking for a reaction. Anything to know that his words had hurt the mage. Because above everything else, he wanted to know he could.
That with words, he could hurt this man.
"Why?" he demanded, and decided he didn't want to know. "We..." he stopped. Were what. Going to move in? Make it permanent?
And following that, Hadria screws around?
His legs went up as with his elbows perched on his knees, he laughed. "******** you."
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Posted: Sat Jul 22, 2006 9:04 pm
A choked sound was the only thing that was audible from Hadrian, as Marc asked his question. With that word - with Marc thinking of him like that - whatever barriers he had put up to keep a facade of calm (though it had already failed), was completely destroyed. And the next sound to be heard was a strangled sob.
A whore?
...the part that was even worse, was that Hadrian agreed. Marc was right - why hadn't he fought? He'd said no, but he hadn't fought.
His hand creeped up to his face to wipe at the tears, dislodging his monocol in the process - but even though it landed on the ground without a sound, he didn't notice.
It was over. Marc didn't even need to say the words, to make it seem 'official' - Hadrian already knew that he'd damaged their relationship too much. That he had completely ruined it, and in such a spectacular fashion as to hurt the one person he could say he loved.
"I- I don't..." that was all he could manage before he stopped again, in response to Marc's question. He couldn't seem to force out any of those words.
And - he couldn't seem to move either. Because leaving would officiate it.
...but he had to.
Stiffly, the man walked towards the door, but stopped in front of it, resting his head against it. He was shaking, he could feel it. Hadrian didn't want to leave...
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2006 12:57 am
Marc was looking up, and he saw the monocol fall. It didn't break through, and that was something. Maybe a hint, foreshadowing, something more intelligent then what Marc could think up. But the tears. They undid some part of him, untangled and tore him up inside.
But he couldn't say anything. He didn't want to say anything. To do that would be to admit something, and it wasn't only his current state that made him unwilling to do that.
Marc was ...
Marc was.
Getting up, pulling at his legs and his arms as if they weren't a part of him any more, he reached down and picked the monocol up, missing the movements. When he looked up to see Hadrian clinging to the door, well. It surprised him. How had he moved so quickly?
And the question hit him with ironies too bitter for him to pursue.
So he moved, unbending with the monocol in hand, the familiar contours slipping into his palm. He moved to the door, placing a hand gently on the other man's waist. Or trying to.
His hand hesitated a fraction, feeling the warmth and the teasing sigh of shirt, but nothing else.
It was hard.
So it rested on the door instead, blocking both their exit as he held the monocol out.
He didn't want Hadrian to leave.
He wanted Hadrian to leave.
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2006 1:05 am
Hadrian took the monocol, that being the last thing in his mind. His mind was on the other man - and for once, he allowed himself to meet Marc's eyes. Why?
He was looking for something - maybe some hint that he shouldn't go. Or something, anything, that made this seem less final. But the mage couldn't see any of that - though that could simply be because his own vision was so blurry.
His own gaze - it was almost desperate. There was pain in it, shame, a panicked pleading, love - if he had known how much his eyes showed, he'd have looked away.
But he didn't.
"Marc, I..."
What could he say, that he hadn't already said? And he couldn't say what was rushing in his mind at that moment. So he changed course, breaking off those words. He couldn't seem to get a full sentence out, around Marc.
"Thank you."
For the monocol; his words were murmured, quiet enough that he could actually speak without it being choked with tears.
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2006 1:12 am
Marc took a step back, uneasy about everything. This was too tender, too personal. He had tried to avoid the gaze of the man who sought his, but it hadn't work. So he gave him what he could. The anger, the pain, the finality. Because everything else, all the hope and the love and the caring had been buried somewhere deep, aided by alcohol and the events.
It was easier to face the mage, give him what Marc didn't understand himself. It was easier to stand there, staring into those eyes and wondering if maybe he could take something back.
But he didn't want to. A selfish part of him, the sane part maybe, didn't want to. He had tried once. Tried twice, really. And he was sick and tired of trying, of pretending.
"Your welcome." he responded, listlessly. Pulling himself away, he walked back to the kitchen.
The man had said his name, and Marc wondered why.
"Hadrian..."
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Posted: Sun Jul 23, 2006 1:18 am
Hadrian's head tilted forward, his hair sliding to hide his face from sight as Marc walked towards the kitchen. What had he expected, that Marc would just forget it all?
Ha.
More then anything else, the look in the man's eyes had cemented it. His fist clenched around the monocol, almost breaking it before he turned back to the door. He couldn't stay.
That much...was obvious.
His name...Marc saying his name. It wasn't - like he was used to hearing. It held none of the emotions he normally heard when his (ex?) lover spoke his name, and it brought pause to the mage as he turned.
But then he set his jaw. He couldn't just stand there. He had to get out of there before he just collapsed into a heap on Marc's floor - he wouldn't do that to the man.
And soundlessly, the man opened the door, and stepped out.
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