Logs:Almost Responsible Adults
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 2 September, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte and H'vier deal with the news from the tattletale. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 9, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Fayla/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Marza/Mentions, Tahvra/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Mention of miscarriage. Back-dated. |
  |
| It's likely, since Tayte is only a few days into formal bed rest that H'vier doesn't know these are now the circumstances. The door to her room is open, fully, and voices can be heard within. It's an older woman speaking with Tayte in a reassuring manner. "Well, you've come this far, dear, you just have to manage the rest. And you won't be alone. I'll take your things to the weavers on my way, and be back this evening with the girls." The woman's wrinkled hand lay lightly on Tayte's arm where she is leaning back on pillows. "You know the rules, as little movement as possible. Do you have everything you need?" There's a water pitcher on the nightstand, food on a tray, yarn and knitting supplies nearby to keep her occupied. "Yes, thank you," the gratitude is real. There's a pat to her arm, and then the woman is arriving at the door, only to find H'vier on the other side of it, "Tayte dear," she leans back in to say, "You have a visitor. Are you up for it?" Tayte's, "Of course," is unsuspecting. After all, it's probably someone harmless like Oliwer, right? Her eyes go wide when she sees him step through, and wider still at the bruises. She's speechless and staring. "Thank you," says H'vier to the older woman, stepping inside and letting her deal with her own leaving once his attention switches to Tayte's speechless staring. "Tayte," he says as a sort of greeting. He sounds calm, at least, even if he looks a bit like hell. "The girls are out?" Maybe he overheard and just want to reverify. Or it could just be that they aren't visible and it's not that big of a room. His question comes as he makes his way toward her bedside, though, tired eyes shifting toward her belly. Tayte is almost certainly not supposed to be shifting toward the edge of the bed like she is, and she's probably also not supposed to be looking at him with such concern (though that's an entirely different set of 'not supposed to' reasons). Did she even hear him? "Havi, you're hurt!" Which really sounds a lot like the unvoiced questions of 'Are you okay?' and 'What happened?' "I'm fine," says the bronzerider dismissively, lifting a hand as though to tell her to relax and stay where she is. Maybe to encourage her to stay away from him in general. And because he's fine, he doesn't go into any details about where he got hurt, saying instead, "I know that it's mine, Tayte. Why didn't you tell me that it's mine?" There's an undertone of emotion in his voice, but it's not anger. It's the second thing more than his useless hand gesture that stays Tayte before she can make it out of the bed. She knew it was coming, of course, and that much shows in her face. For a moment, she can't meet his eye and then she lifts her chin, steeling herself for whatever might come. "You don't want to be with me. To be a real family," as opposed to the colorful Weyr-style family that she currently maintains, "A baby-- just makes it harder for everyone. It makes it hurt more." But her arms wrap now protectively over her belly, "But I want the baby. I didn't want to risk that you wouldn't." He did suggest certain things last time she found herself knocked up. H'vier maintains a certain distance from Tayte's bed, like there's some invisible barrier that he can't cross, as he starts to pace slow steps through her quarters, arms cross with one hand holding his chin. "That's not true," he tells her with a small shake of his head. He pauses, gaze focusing on the arms around her belly for a moment before he's looking away. Anywhere else. "Of course I would want my baby, woman." The bronzerider's voice is raised somewhat when he says that, but he's not looking at her now, so maybe it's not very scary. "But you don't want me," Tayte protests quietly, "How could I know you would want her?" The baby, presumably. She's staring down at her hands on the quilt. After a moment, she lifts her eyes. "Would you like to sit?" So at least she's not planning on throwing him out and maybe this is really to gauge where he's at with all this. The seat she proposes is apparently next to her on the bed. "Dammit, Tayte!" His voice is even louder now, legitimate yelling, and H'vier has turned to face her so he can look at her like she's the most frustrating thing currently in existence. He moves closer, toward her. But it's not to sit. After a moment he kneels down in front of her, instead. A hand raises slowly toward her belly, almost tentative as though he's afraid she'll flinch away from him. "I want you more than everything, baby. I want to take you away, somewhere where no one else will be able to look at you, let alone touch you. Somewhere where I can have you all to myself so you never have to pay attention to anyone but me. Whenever we're apart, I want to be with you. And whenever we're together, I'm never close enough. I can't look at another woman without comparing her to you, without finding all the ways she isn't as perfect as you are. So don't you ever tell me that I don't want to be with you, do you understand me?" Tayte does flinch, at the yell, shifting unconsciously back into the pillows and her arms tighten around the curve of her belly. She doesn't flinch when he kneels and reaches for her, but she does watch him with very wary eyes. She probably only doesn't move away because he's said in no uncertain terms that he'd want the baby. She's left blinking wide-eyed at the bronzerider and speechless again. After some moments of collecting herself, she does ask quietly, "But you don't want me to want to have the same of you?" Meaning, he wants his cake and to eat it too. "This isn't about that. It was never about any other women. I didn't even fuck anyone until after we stopped." After their little experiment. So H'vier definitely has been with other women, but it took him a decent amount of time to get there! For him, anyway. Tayte flinches away as if slapped. Her cheeks go red and eyes instantly full of tears that just spill over though there's no sob to accompany their flight. She had to know, didn't she? Apparently, that doesn't make it hurt less. She's silent and not looking at him. And then quietly, "And still I haven't been with anyone. What a stupid, stupid girl I am." In this case, girl is as insulting as she makes it sound. She shakes her head slowly and the tears staunch after only a few more. "Baby. Don't," says H'vier almost pleadingly the moment Tayte's tears start to fall. Crying isn't fair. It's never been fair of any woman ever. "You're not stupid, Tayte. You're an amazing woman and a far better person than I ever deserved." He doesn't seem sure what to say after that so it must be some impulse that adds, "I wish we could go back to the way things were." "Aren't we already? Me knocked up with your child. And us a mess in one way or another. Isn't that par for the course?" Her laugh is bitter and sad. Tayte closes her eyes some long moments before asking tiredly. "What do you want?" "I want you to be happy. I want to stop hurting you. I want us to be able to live happily ever after like they do in the harper's tales." But there's something about the way H'vier says that that suggests he knows perfectly well that's never going to happen. "I want to give you what you want." Maybe that's something he can do. "What do you want?" "I don't know anymore," Tayte answers a beat later, fingers curling into the fabric covering the bump. "Everything is different now and I don't know anymore what's best or what I want." She shakes her head. "I want what K'del has: a happy family." Probably minus the distance. "With me? Us?" There doesn't seem to be any expectation of a particular answer to that question, but it seems like an important one for H'vier to ask. "Yes," Tayte's tone almost implies that H'vier must be simple to have to ask, "With you. And then you did this." A hand gestures at the air to encompass everything over the past months. "And you slept with all those people," she assumes (probably correctly) and frowns. Maybe it's now wanted, more than want. Well, a lot has happened since H'vier might assume that much. And even when he might have assumed, they certainly weren't weyrmates. If she wanted them to be a family so much, they would have been weyrmates, right? "I know what I want. And that's not to hurt you. Or the girls." Which is, evidently, unavoidable no matter what he does. "You need to figure out what you want. Now." Not before. "But I don't know if what we want will ever be able to coexist." "You're so certain you'll hurt me? Or the girls?" Tayte asks it soberly. "No. I can't be certain. That's the problem, Tayte. I never wanted to hit you, but I lost my temper. No matter how much I never want it to happen again, I can't trust myself not to lose control." H'vier is looking at her earnestly, silently pleading for her to understand that he's trying to do the right thing for her. "You aren't the first person I've hurt. But you're the only one I hate myself for hurting." Tayte considers a long time in silence and then she asks quietly, "Give me your hand?" She takes it in both of her own looking at the palm side a moment; so harmless now. Then sucking I'm a breath she places it gingerly and waits, not looking at the bronzerider. After some moments the flutters of life within can be felt, not yet too strongly as the baby has yet more growing to do before it will be full-grown. There's no hesitation in the way H'vier gives his hand to Tayte with a gentleness that contrasts the way the skin of his knuckles is broken. He watches her not looking at him for a few moments when she puts it against her belly, but as soon as the baby inside starts to move, his gaze drops and a quiet laugh brings a smile to his bruised face as his hand shifts slightly against her. She holds her hands gently over top of his. "I am the mother of two, maybe three of your children, H'vier. I want to be your weyrmate. To grow old with you. But I want to live healthily and happily." Not injured. "If you can't be sure of yourself then..." She's quiet some long moments and slowly, slowly lets her hands slip away from his. "Then what I want is an impossibility and I will have to learn to want something else." Which is much more easily said than done. H'vier doesn't lift his gaze. His smile fades. But his hand stays where it is for now. When he speaks, there's a slight waver of emotion in his voice. "I know." Not all of it, certainly. But the last, at least. He knows what they want is an impossibility. And he knows that it's his fault. "I don't want to want something different," she feels the need to clarify, though still Tayte doesn't look at him. "I don't even know if I can and having all these hours alone with my thoughts is already terrible. I can't even ask you to abstain from other women until I've given birth for my own peace of mind because I know you couldn't do it. And what would it matter anyway when in the end, we won't be together." There are a few moments of silence as H'vier finally draws his hand away from the blonde's belly. He lifts it to rub one of his eyes. Must be something in it. But then he clears his throat and says, "I'm trying to be better. You make me want to be better. And maybe one day I'll trust myself." Though the more important question is probably, "Will you ever trust me again?" She reaches to reclaim his hand once he's finished using it to deal with the obvious dust issue in her admittedly not as immaculate but still very tidy room. "Havi, I fell in love with you because of who you are, not in spite of who you are. I have loved the man, the scoundrel you were and are becoming again, and the loving partner you were for a time in the middle, but I'm not sure I've ever learned to trust you." If they're being honest. "Maybe we could start all over and try. Maybe it would make a difference." She squeezes his hand gently. "We could start as friends who have children together and who don't lie to each other." It's a nice idea anyway! He can't really say much about her not trusting him since he's basically never trusted her, either. But their mutual distrust, at least, kept them together pretty well for a while there. "I'd like that. If this isn't something you're going to regret the moment I leave and then avoid talking to me for another few sevens." Because it is a nice idea and H'vier wants it to be real. "I won't... But, Havi, you have to know that I'm still in love with you, and until that changes, it will hurt me when you're with other people because I want you only for myself." Tayte's words come out in a tumble and she sighs for the last. "I can't promise I shall always be even tempered about it or want to see you after such things for a time, especially now when my-- when the healers are so worried about the stress." She redirects the end of her sentence. "I can't lose our baby, Havi. I couldn't bear it." "I know," is his first impulse. "I know. I don't want you to lose our baby. And I don't want to stress you out." H'vier pauses, considering, then says, "We could be together, if you want. Until it's born. And then figure everything else out after everyone's safe and healthy." That sounds like a flawless plan, right? "I could just be with you. No one else." "Oh, Havi." Tayte sighs, squeezing his hand before drawing it up to her lips to brush a light kiss to those bruised knuckles. "I'm sorry. I can't. Not anymore. I-- There was--" She tries to find the words, looking at him with the gravity the situation asks for. "I had contractions." There's no easy way to say that. "They stopped," she hurries to add. "And everything is okay now, for now," for now, "but Healer Miska has put me on actual bedrest instead of modified bedrest. And--" Long story short, "No sex." One might wonder why she sounds apologetic, but perhaps it's easy enough to guess that she would have wanted to accept the offer. H'vier stares at Tayte for several long moments. Surely he's heard what she just said. But he seems to be having some difficulty actually comprehending it. Or maybe just how it relates to what he's offered her. "None? For how long?" "Until they take me off bedrest, I imagine. I'm sure they'll reassess," because she'll make them, because she's already going stir crazy here, "but it could be until the end." Tayte looks at him quite seriously, "I'm doing this for our baby." If H'vier were the mother, the child would be screwed, probably. Until the end. There's obvious disappointment in the bronzerider's expression, but he's quick to say, "I know you are. It's just... it's a long time till the end. But." H'vier pauses, glancing toward her belly again before continuing, "I could do it. If that's what you want." He might be hoping that's not what she wants, but it's hard to tell by his expression. The laugh Tayte has is no longer bitter, but still sad. "H'vier, I don't think asking you to be celibate for four and a half months is the best way to begin our new policy of honesty." She tugs his hand gently, inviting him into the bed. "Maybe we can say... I'd really rather you didn't sleep with other people, but I know it's unrealistic to ask you not to, for now. As much as you can refrain..." Do. "And please don't make me hear about you sleeping with Fayla. Ever." Because that's a particularly sensitive button. Maybe one day when he has control he'll have control over his needs too. "But I would like it if you would come spend time with me. With us. If you want to be a part of her life?" The way the question is asked is tentative. She probably suspects she knows the answer, but it's always best to be clear about these things. He could say something like he'd do it if she really wanted him to. But he probably knows that's what she really wants and, well, he doesn't ever actually say it. H'vier does follow the tug of his hand up toward the bed. "Of course I want to be part of her life." He doesn't even question the fact that it might not be a 'her' because it's not like he has any reason to think he can even produce anything but girls so far. And then he needs to ask, "How honest do you want me to be?" Because sometimes omission isn't dishonesty if the person doesn't want to know. Tayte doesn't seem to expect H'vier to offer, or, at least, she doesn't seem disappointed when he doesn't. Still, she's looking at him seriously. "How honest do you want me to be?" She asks, turning the question back on him, as though this will be the determining factor, or perhaps it's simply pointing out a tit-for-tat exchange rate. "I'd rather be hurt by a hard truth than finding out a lie and the hard truth behind it, Havi." She sighs, reaching her free hand to rub across her face and then trail down her braid. "I don't need you to volunteer things to me, unless I've previously asked you to tell me about whatever it is, but if I ask, tell me. And likewise, if you ask, be sure you can hear the answer." She sighs again, this time rubbing her belly, "It's not going to be easy, Havi. None of it." Which sucks because they don't do particularly well with hard. H'vier opens his mouth because he definitely has an answer as to how honest he would want Tayte to be. But, well, Tayte's not supposed to be doing anyone for awhile so maybe he should just keep his mouth shut for now. So instead he nods, lifting a hand to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheek as he's leaning in to try kissing her like everything's been totally normal for months. Kissing is way better than talking. The hand on her cheek? Fine, fine. The leaning in? Yeah, okay, right up to the point where she realizes what he's going for. Tayte squeaks her surprise, leaning back, meaning to fall back against the pillows, only remember how when he came in she started to get up? She falls back into air and the bed not so far below, but the unexpectedness of the still soft impact steals her breath. She's got no words to protest with. Was her squeak enough? It's the squeak that keeps H'vier from following Tayte back against the bed, pulling his hand away and shifting up onto his feet to step a few paces away. His hands lift to rub over his face and he's not turning around to look back at her. He doesn't seem entirely sure what to do with himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-- Should I go?" It takes Tayte a moment to suck air in, though she manages, "No!" hurriedly, before sucking in a few more breaths and carefully pressing herself up and scooting back against the pillows. "Havi, come back." Onto the bed with her. She pats the spot beside her gently. He doesn't turn around right away, maybe trying to recompose himself into something resembling the man he wishes he could be for her. Not that whatever he does right now will get rid of the bruises and broken skin. But when H'vier does turn back, he comes to the bed and settles into the offered spot in a carefully slow motion. She takes his hands again. Somehow, physical contact is supposed to make the lack of other physical contact easier to bear. Clearly, Tayte thinks these things through. "Havi, it's not that I don't want to. Of course I do. It's just-- if-- no, you've been with other women, and will be with more before I give birth, and maybe after." She sighs, "I just-- I think it will be easier to be friends and to learn to trust each other if I'm not busy being jealous and I'll be less jealous, maybe," maybe, "if we're not kissing. Or doing other things." The things she's not allowed to do. H'vier sighs. It's not entirely frustration, but there is some there. "I wish I'd known it was mine when we were fucking. Don't know what it is that makes you so hot like this." But she's really hot when she's pregnant. And it's clearly not fair that he can't even kiss her, #haviproblems. "I get it, though," he assures her, even if he kind of hates it. That he'd probably still get jealous of her with another man in any way is left unsaid. "Well, we can't change what's past, or take it back." She might be talking just a little bit about him using her, and then dumping her, and then using her again before reiterating the dumping. Tayte looks at him, once again sad. "But you know one kiss only leads to another, and then that leads to me wanting you only for myself, and then that leads me to asking you to be celibate until we can be together again, and that leads to you cheating on me and lying about it, and that leads to-- well, nothing good. And certainly things hurtful. If you decide, you want only me, and abstain on your own-- well, your efforts may yet be rewarded." She shrugs, though if she's offering incentive it's not entirely on his own in any case, now is it, Tayte? "Would you even believe me if I tried?" To be celibate. H'vier doesn't sound like he'd believe her even if she said she'd believe him. And if she wouldn't believe him anyway, what's the point in trying? Tayte has to think about it. She doesn't let go of his hand, and in point of fact, she uses her other brush her fingertips across the injuries, so lightly, perhaps committing them to memory. "I would try." They said honesty, right? "I would want to. And I would try. Since we're being honest now." Then her tracing hand shifts abruptly up to find his face, in a mirror of the gesture he made just before trying to kiss her. "I love you, Havi." This is probably worse than a kiss. "That's probably never going to change, no matter how things hurt." "I love you, too, baby," says H'vier, though it sounds kind of resigned more than happy. Because he's probably tried not to and it's proven rather impossible to shake off. "I'm not very good at being friends with women," he points out. Not that he's all that great at being friends with men, either. "But I'll try. Do you need anything?" When she leans, it's slow and careful and her lips brush against his cheek. "We're also not the best at being honest." Tayte says with an edge of humor, "But we're going to try, right? Either way, I have to be celibate, so at least we can't complicate anything yet." She lays back on the pillows then, placing his hand again on her belly. "Do you have time to stay? I'd like company for a while. And I want her to know your voice. So I'd like it if you talked to us." It's an invitation to get comfortable in the familiar bed. "Right," agrees H'vier. "I have all the time in the world," is added, even if it's not true. His gaze shifts to her belly and his hand slides down away from hers, intent on getting under her shirt so he can feel her skin against his. "Can I tell you something about Fayla?" he asks. "I know you don't want to talk about her. But I think it will be good for you to know." Skin to skin-- there's a moment where Tayte seems to hesitate, but she doesn't prevent it or speak to stop it. She even starts to relax under his touch, until she's flinching into sudden tension when he says the F-word. She doesn't try to cover her reaction, but does force herself to clear her throat and nod. His touch is as platonic as H'vier is likely to be able to manage. Perhaps not perfect, but not trying to make it into something else despite his obvious attraction. So while his hand slowly moves over the bump of her belly, he says, "I haven't been with her. Not since then. She's even offered me the chance. But that's not what I wanted to tell you." He must have just thought that would be good to get out of the way considering her reaction. "I'm taking the wing from her. And I doubt she'll even let me meet her child after that." Her child, note. Not his. Tayte looks at him, surprised. For a moment, she might be considering if he's lying to her, but her eyes fall, guiltily to his hands. They're trusting each other. "I'm surprised." She admits, but for the first. "But pleasantly." It earns him a brush of her fingertips along his arm. "The wing... I'm not surprised." But apparently she's not unpleasantly so either. She's silent a moment. "I'm sorry for the unhappiness that might cause you," the sympathy is worded very carefully. She's not sorry Fayla won't want H'vier to have anything to do with her. Then, abruptly, "Will you come for her birth?" Her, this baby, their baby. H'vier only rumbles some sound about her voiced sympathy before attempting a brief smile. He's definitely not happy about it. But it's not like he's going to give up his chance to take Iceberg for a child whose mother doesn't want him involved anyway. "I would love to be there when she's born. You don't think Tahvra will get jealous, though, do you?" "Oh, I think so. Just as Yvalia did with Tahvra." Tayte answers ruefully. "Just as I did with all of my siblings. And they weren't even natural born, so that might've made it worse. Maybe it's why I was so eager to high-tail it off to the Vintner as soon as I had twelve turns to my name." Her smile is warm in reminiscence. "I think Tavi will end up more excited though. As she gets older and understands better that now she gets to be a big sister, like Vali is to her." Tavi does love her big sister fiercely. "It's our job not to let her feel neglected, and to help her focus on the positive. She doesn't understand why I can't pick her up or tuck her in at night, most nights, though some nights the girls sleep here with me," so she can. "But she likes reading bedtime stories with the baby. She likes feeling her kick." There's a fond smile as she looks down at her middle, though there's no well timed movement which has her laughing a little at her own hopefulness for such and looking to H'vier. For just this moment, it might seem like everything is as it was with Tahvra, but better. The way it could have been, if not for the things that have happened that can't be taken back, only regretted. "I meant if I'm there when she's born. Or were you planning on never telling Tavi about that?" That might actually be nice, now that he's thinking about it. "I'm sure she'll love being a big sister like Vali, though." H'vier is quiet then, looking from Tayte to her belly with a small, distant sort of smile. "Would it help if I stay here at night? Or are you okay by yourself?" Tayte is silent a long, long time. It's possible, should he decide to look away from her belly, to watch the inner-workings of the Irrational trying to get a hold on this Rational, Mature Tayte. Instead of giving a real answer, she hedges. "Mightn't that be confusing for the girls?" Obviously there's a part of her that would like nothing better than to accept his offer. H'vier does glance up to Tayte's face again, perhaps trying to gauge how she's feeling in general right now. "To know that I care about you all enough to help even if we're not technically together? No, I don't think that will be confusing. Tahvra is too young. And I think Yvalia will like it." Alright, so the girls doesn't get her anywhere rational, so Tayte toys with her shirt with her fingers, drawing it up a little so H'vier can see where his hand rests. Not helping, Tayte. "What does Reisoth think?" Because, clearly the bronze is the authority on human relationships full of complicated feelz. The look the bronzerider gives Tayte is slightly confused. Since when does anyone care about what Reisoth thinks? Outside of a professional context. Of which Tayte will never have. "What does he think about what? About me staying here? He doesn't care." Or H'vier isn't asking him. Same difference. And since she's not letting them kiss properly, surely Tayte won't mind if he leans down to kiss her belly instead. Yeah, that's totally fine. Don't mind the way Tayte's breath catches in her throat. Belly kissing is going to do wonders for her rational, mature adult thought-processes. "Maybe-- some nights, I--" She's blushing. She's looking him in that way. The one that always gets her into troubles. If H'vier attempts to keep Tayte's thoughts shifted toward the more irrational side of the spectrum, it might not even be on purpose. He does like her like this, after all. So it's perfectly natural that he enjoys giving her affection. "I can live with some nights. You shouldn't have to spend any of them alone, baby." That helps. It makes Tayte's lips pull down in sad angles that don't quite make it far enough from pout to be a frown. "No," she agrees. "I shouldn't. I wish..." She wishes. But then she's looking pained and turning her head so as to hide some of her hurt from him, however unsuccessfully. Hurting her isn't what he'd intended. But that seems to be a recurring theme in their relationship. H'vier shifts to settle in next to her, trying to wrap his arms around her without anymore kissing. "Me, too," he murmurs, even though he can't know what she was going to say. "I'm sorry." It's a mistake anyone can see coming. But she was doing so well! Tayte kisses him, even with him not going for the kiss. She kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him until the better parts of her brain catch up with impulse and she's pulling away, swearing. "Fuck." If there's any hesitation in the way H'vier responds to Tayte's kiss, it's entirely likely that she won't even notice. Because kissing is what he wants. Not all that he wants, surely, but something relatively safe for her to actually give him. So far as the baby is concerned, at any rate. When she's pulling away, H'vier reaches for her arm to try keeping her closer, voice low and heated when he says, "Tayte," in that completely familiar way. He doesn't want to stop now that she's started it. "Havi," it's an unfamiliar way that she pleads with him. Don't encourage her! Tayte doesn't try very hard to lean away from him, but she makes a token effort. K'del still wouldn't be proud. It takes a few moments but H'vier does let go of her, if reluctantly. He lets himself fall back against the bed so he can attempt to recompose himself, though the fact that he wanted more is even more plainly obvious in this position. Tayte doesn't look at him; it's safer that way. After some moments she sighs softly. "Friends," she intones as if instructing both of them. "I'm not going to share you and you're not going to weyrmate me. So, friends." She reaches for his hand. "Let's... try harder not to kiss, okay?" Because that will solve everything! "So I shouldn't ask you if you want to help me with this?" He's joking. Probably. Hopefully. "It's going to be hard to only be friends, Tayte." It's not that H'vier doesn't think she knows that already. Just that it needs to be said out loud. "I should go." So he can take care of his problem. "But can I come back later? Or soon?" Tayte gives him a stern look, but it's probably not going to help anything. "Well, hard is nothing new. It was hard to be together and we never made it to the hard of being weyrmates or family." Not like that. "It's always been hard to love you, Havi," this is said softly. She pats his hand gently. "Come back when you like. There's no regular schedule for guests." Which is to say, she can't tell him when he can come that would avoid K'del or Oliwer or any of her other friends with whom he'd rather not meet. "You are my family, Tayte. Whether you want us to be or not. Just like K'del is your family." However much he'd rather stab himself in the throat than admit as much. "Nothing will ever change that." H'vier moves to get himself up off of the bed, readjusting before glancing back at Tayte. If he was going to say something, though, he must think better of it. Instead he says, "Take care of yourself. I'll see you again soon." Whatever words Tayte might have said are also curtailed in favor of a simple nod and a smile that isn't entirely happy. Not for the seeing again soon, but... friends. And bedrest. Whoever invented responsibility should be tossed to the impossible mercy of a Threadfall with no dragons in sight. |
Leave A Comment