Logs:The Side Job
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| RL Date: 26 December, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Reisoth, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte is working K'zin's 20th Turnday Rager. H'vier is surprised to see her there... working... |
| Where: Rasavyth's Ledge and Artful Artifice Weyr (K'zin's), Bowl, Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 20, Month 8, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, Madilla/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. |
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| Rasavyth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr What a spectacular weyr! Its large ledge boasts a pair of perfect hollows, room enough for a pair of bronzes, and just inside the entrance are a series of shelves cut into the stone, ideal for displaying small knickknacks and keeping everything organized. Artful Artifice Weyr, High Reaches Weyr The exterior curtain shields the pair of dragon wallows from the elements, but it's really after the interior curtain set just behind them that things become more human-friendly. The entryway narrows to what would still be wide by people standards, but narrow enough to disabuse any dragon of the notion of trying to fit inside, then the cavern bubbles open into a fairly massive main cavern. Almost opposite the entrance is a pair of doors nearly side-by-side leading to back rooms, but in between there's space. Spacious might be an understatement here. To the right of the entrance the curved wall provides space for a very large table whose matching chairs can seat up to twelve. It's reminiscent of the council chambers, really, and the backdrop on the wall dotted with low cabinets behind it is covered in a to-scale rendering of a map of Pern. A map of High Reaches sweep and the Weyr's badge get a close-up on a mural to the immediate left of the entrance . A broad hearth interrupts and separates the second half of the expansive curved wall from the first, and the latter shows the greatest display of artistry in a mural of a hazy night sky dotted with stars. Closer inspection might lead one to find that the stars might be used as hand-holds if one were inclined to climb.
So that she's there and mixing up many a fancy drink might come as something of a surprise to the bronzeriding father-to-be. It might, in fact, be more surprising because Tayte's smile is so brilliant and she's laughing at the joke of a man who's entirely too attractive and would be less so if he knew what was good for his health (at least with H'vier in the vicinity). To all appearances, Tayte hasn't seen the bronzerider and might not be expecting to; after all, does H'vier know the turnday boy? Then again, with the number of bodies filling in the big cavern, there's a very good chance that not more than a handful have ever met K'zin, so H'vier would at least have one up on most of them. There's definitely no chance that H'vier came here looking for some young piece of... uh, woman. He might have come to look at them, though. That's allowed, right? Except once the bronzerider spies his woman (don't tell her he thought that), that's the only place he can look. It's hard to say if it's the attractive man she's talking to or the fact that she's here at all. But he only watches for a few moments before he's barging on up and shoving Mr. Attractive to the side with a look that says he will punch him in his pretty face if he doesn't back the hell off. "Tayte," he says without looking away from the other man. "You didn't tell me you were taking side jobs." H'vier's reputation must precede him because the attractive man doesn't even attempt the challenge after a "Hey-!" and actually getting a look at the very tall, very muscled man that just shoved him aside. There might be a mutter of insult under his breath as he moves away, but hopefully the bronzerider is too distracted by how very very guilty Tayte looks or the fact that she's reaching out a hand to lay on his arm to do something about it. "Havi," She breathes out the name on the exhale of what was a near-silent gasp on her part. "I-- It sort of came up." You'd think Tayte would and could be a better liar than this, but perhaps she's just altogether too startled to make anything seem smooth right now. It's mostly the hand that touches him that pulls H'vier's attention away from the other man. And even that might be surprising because he looks like he wants to hit something really badly. It's not the other man that has him angry right now, though. It's not even really Tayte, either. But he'll be damned if he'll say what it really is outright. "Bullshit," he counters almost as soon as she's said something. "Are you trying to fuck this one up, too?" Fortunately even though he still looks like he wants to hit things, the bronzerider would probably be hard-pressed to raise his hand to Tayte even if she weren't pregnant. Unfortunately for H'vier, the reverse is not true. Is he waiting for her hand to swing? Because here it comes, aiming to slap him as hard as she can. Then again, the last time he said something like that, the blow was a lot lower, so maybe she's softening up toward him. H'vier has been a fighter for a good majority of his life. He probably could have stopped Tayte from hitting him if he really wanted to. But maybe he's too upset. Or maybe he just knows he deserves it now that the words are out of his mouth. There are a few moments where H'vier's head is turned in the direction her slap sent it, his jaw clenching through the sting. Then he's looking at her again. "Come on. You're finished here." To Tayte's credit, there's no regretting her slap. There's no backing down, and there's no girlish 'oh noes! did I hurt you?' spilling from her. Instead, she's glaring at him. "Am I?" The tone is doubting as she takes a step back from the bronzerider. It's not spoken, but it might as well be written on her face: 'You think after that I'm leaving with you?' "You shouldn't be here, Tayte," growls the bronzerider, stepping forward to fill the space she backed away from. "You should be home. Taking it easy." The implication is there that she's putting their child at risk. That she'll be to blame if something happens. And H'vier isn't apologizing for it right now. "You either come with me or I'll stand here watching you all fucking night." Tayte's arms cross over her chest, expression defiant. "Oh, yes, I'm sure the strain of slinging a few bottles of whiskey is what would cause the problem. That me smiling and laughing and enjoying myself is detrimental to his well-being. I'm sure that if something happened, it would have nothing to do with your accusations the stress you're willfully inciting." She tosses the blame right back at him. But so far there's no answer about if she's leaving or if he's going to be a glowering gargoyle to all the drink-seekers at the party. Tayte isn't, apparently, worried about making a scene. Logic isn't really his strong suit when he's angry. That's probably why he does so much stupid shit. Instead of responding, though, H'vier only stares at her. It's a cool, steady stare that's obviously going to stick around until she makes a decision one way or another. He's H'vier. Making scenes is part of his well-earned reputation. She stares back, expression impassive. This might go on for a long time, except something's occurred to her. One of Tayte's brows lifts and she cants her head to one side, "I'll come with you. If." She stops to make that word as significant as it can be. "If you apologize to me." That's right, an actual apology. Out loud. In public. "Apologize for what?" is H'vier's first impulse to ask-- no, demand. "Do you want me to apologize for showing up and catching you? Or do you want me to apologize for caring about the well-being of our baby?" Certainly not for his behavior. That doesn't seem to occur to him. "For what got you slapped just now." Tayte doesn't clarify, and she doesn't seem to expect him to articulate just what it was, since she's not going to go into the accusation either, but the apology she does expect. "And for ordering me about like you own me." This is pointed. She may be carrying his child, but there's no ring on this finger! His jaw clenches again, but this time it's not because she's struck him. It's because he needs to decide whether or not he'll do it. Being proud seems to get him in trouble more often than it makes good things happen. He's definitely not happy about it but H'vier says, "I'm sorry, Tayte." And then he's gesturing a hand expectantly for her to come along like a good girl now. Tayte assesses, likely weighing the apology for the right timbre and the proper sincerity. He probably doesn't pass quality control, but he did it, so with a sigh that shows he'll now get his way, she holds up a finger, "Hold your runnerbeasts. Need to make sure things are covered. Wait here." It's not like she's really going to vanish, just move to speak to the pair of others who've been assisting her. They're older apprentices, and Tayte puts on her Journeywoman-No-To-Be-Tested face as she speaks to them in hushed tones. There are nods exchanged by all and then Tayte's slipping hands into her apron and pulling out small pouches, doing some quick counting and putting one in each of the girls' expectant hands. The last thing she says carries because she's turning back to the bronzerider, "Not even if they're really, really cute." When she reaches the bronzerider, her arm slips around his, "I take it you'll take me down." As if there was ever a question. H'vier waits there, sure, but he watches Tayte go speak to who she needs to speak with, like he doesn't trust her not to disappear and continue on with the evening's festivities. His eyes narrow somewhat at that last comment he catches but he doesn't say anything about it. Instead he says, "So, if you're here, does that mean Vali's taken care of for the night?" Tayte catches the eye-narrowing and does a little roll of her own before explaining, "I was telling them not to serve the weyrlings. But, you know how girls are." The look she gives him almost dares him to answer anything to that. Whatever it is is guaranteed with that look to get him into trouble. "She is," of the five turn old. "I didn't know you knew K'zin." It's dropped casually. Oh so casually. The bronzerider doesn't even attempt to say anything in regards to that. They're totally whatever Tayte is saying they are. But only from her. Not from him. He has more important things to think about. Like his woman's likelihood of murdering him before morning. "We've met," is all he says about the other bronzerider. She doesn't seem to be the safest company, but at least the worst she's done is slap him. So far. Now, it's like she's a different person (thanks, pregnancy hormones!) as she leans closer to him as they move toward the ledge, seemingly very content with being curled around his arm as she is, so much so that her head comes to rest on his shoulder as they move. "Did you get him nice turnday gift?" Tayte queries in a way that doesn't seem like a trap. "Aye. I got him the same thing he got me," says H'vier without a second thought. It's not the other man that's really on his mind, after all. It's the woman at his arm that he's leading toward the bronze waiting patiently on the ledge to take them away. Tayte rolls her eyes, "Well, then it wasn't as good as what I got you." But how could anyone top what a woman gives her man? Unless it turns out to be a really lame night. "Evening, Reisoth," she decides to greet the bronze tonight. Not that she ever expects much of a response and her greetings are intermittent, but tonight she does as they arrive on the ledge. "The baby really wasn't in any danger. This was fun for me, Havi." There's a soft pleading in her voice to understand that as she looks up at him, slipping off his arm in preparation for being assisted up onto the bronze's neck. The dragon turns his head to look at the couple as they approach. Tayte's greeting is met with a slow blink of acknowledgement but little else. H'vier pauses beside the bronze with Tayte and he doesn't immediately go through the motions of helping her up even though Reisoth is already lowering himself to do his part. "Maybe not," he admits. "I just... it scares me to think about us going through that again. If I could keep you in bed for the next few months, I would without question." He offers a smile and says, "The good thing is K'zin will have another turnday next turn." Tayte reaches up a hand to briefly caress his jaw. The tender touch is likely a positive reinforcement of his willingness to use the word 'scared.' "That's sweet, but there's not a chance on the surface of the Red Star that I'm taking to bed for months unless Madilla tells me I must. And you know I've been seeing her every week to make sure everything is okay." And so far, so good. "But maybe not a party. He didn't stay for this one." The vintner relates with a shrug of her shoulders. "I was just hoping to get my foot in the door for mixing for weyr parties here. But they don't have them here like they did in Ista." The sigh she gives is wistful. "Are we going?" She asks, evidently ready to be helped up. "I'll just have to talk to the healers, then," says H'vier like that was simple enough. "Yes, we're going," is added as he finally helps her up onto the dragon's neck, following close behind. Reisoth shifts toward the edge of the ledge but he must be waiting on something. The bronzerider says, "If you want to mix for parties, I can find you parties. After the baby is here." It's then that Reisoth glides off of the ledge to circle the bowl lazily. It's almost like an afterthought that he actually lands. "Havi," Tayte sounds half-stern and half-scandalized. "No." This, at least, is firm. And at least she doesn't swat him for saying so. Then she's cooperative with the efforts to get her seated securely, and she leans into him as much as the straps allow on the flight down. "Your kind of parties might require me to double as bouncer more often than I'd like. Besides, after the baby arrives, I'll be useless for months." How well does she remember. "Havi, I have a question." But she's not inclined to ask just then, instead she's unbuckling and waiting patiently to be helped to the ground. "I'm not going to let the gorgeous mother of my child bounce at any party. Give me some credit, Tayte." H'vier is smiling anyway and noting, "Raising a baby is hardly useless. Closest I've come is Reisoth and he could talk as soon as he cracked shell. And then someone was holding my hand through keeping him alive for several turns." The bronzerider is on the ground first, then helps Tayte down after him, setting her oh so carefully on the ground. "There we are." "I somehow have trouble picturing you ever needing someone to hold your hand." Tayte replies once her feet have found solid earth. "Do you-- want to try your hand with something human?" She queries then, and then quickly has to explain, "I mean, I know this baby is yours, but I guess I just mean... do you want to be there when the baby keeps waking and when the diaper needs to be changed and-- all that or do you want to be more like... I don't know, sort of, stop by and see us every now and again kind of Dad?" There isn't judgment in her expression, no sign that there's a right or a wrong answer here, just a probing like she's trying to sort her expectations out. "I wasn't born a rider. I wasn't even born to the Weyr," he explains his shortcomings as it pertains to dragon-rearing. The rest requires at least a short few moments of thought with H'vier turning to start leading Tayte toward the caverns. At least to the not-outside. "I guess I hadn't thought about it too much. I mean, I've thought about the baby." Just not the details. "I'd like to be around. As much as I can. But it depends on work." "What was your mother like?" The question might seem like it comes out of nowhere, but the way it's delivered with gentle curiosity says that it's one she's planned to ask for some time now. And now he's talking about where he was born and they're talking about parenting and... maybe she doesn't have to use one of her Questions for it after all! Tayte wraps herself around his arm again as they walk, "I think, in that case, you should start sleeping over sometimes, when Yvalia's at home." That comes out in a little bit of a rushed way, not practiced and smooth and it makes the difference between her question and her statement all the more obvious. Ocean eyes peer up at him, expression uncertainly waiting for some kind of reaction. "My mother?" repeats H'vier, sounding surprised and uncertain at the same time about her being brought up at all. "Why do you want to know about my mother?" The rest catches his attention more than her initial question. "Yeah? Does she know about the baby yet?" Or, more importantly, that it's his and not some other bronzerider who he tries to pretend doesn't exist. "I'm curious." Tayte answers candidly. "I've known you for more than six turns now and you've never really mentioned her. And now you're to be a father," Not that he mightn't already be with the way he gets around, "So... I'm just curious about the people who raised you." Assuming that is his mother. It all seems innocent enough. And there's this to distract from it: "Yeah. And no. I was-- I was thinking that we could tell her together. If you wanted." The offer is tentative, "Or I can tell her on my own, if you'd rather." She adds this quickly, just in case. H'vier ignores the questions about his mother for the time being, walking along with Tayte, back to her room. Unhurried, though, especially with the talk of telling Yvalia. "I think I need a drink," he murmurs, which is a shame considering where they've just come from. "Do you think that's a good idea? I don't mind being there, but... It's your decision, Tayte." He's done his part in being kept mostly secret, not investing very much in the girl that might be his daughter. "I could've made you more exotic ones at the party," Tayte doesn't miss the opportunity to point this out, but her smile up at him is warm enough. "But I'm sure that can be arranged shortly." Beat. "Then you'll tell me about your family?" She reaches up to tuck a stray hair back behind her ear. "Well, this baby means we're going to be family, doesn't it? I mean, a Weyr family, so not exactly traditional, but... a family, right?" "I don't need exotic. I need strong." Great father material here! H'vier sighs when she presses about his family, but says, "Yeah, sure. Fine. There's not really much to tell. You're going to be disappointed." Or unsurprised, maybe. "No. It means that you and I will have a child and your other daughter will have another father." Which probably wouldn't be a problem at all if her possible parentage didn't involve him at all. "What if she wants that bastard," K'del, presumably, "to be the new baby's father, too?" Smack. It's not as hard as the slap, but it is remonstrative. No calling K'del a bastard in front of Tayte without repercussions. And this smack is on his arm just above where she's holding. "Fortunately for all of us, Yvalia is only five and gets no say in who is the father of this child. In point of fact, you and I have already made that decision. Will it be confusing for her? At first. Will it be confusing for the baby? Yes." She's not coating the delivery with sweetner, "Why K'del is Daddy to Yvalia and Uncle to the baby and vice versa," Not that they've actually discussed what Yvalia should call H'vier when they all become this messed up family, "It will have to be carefully and patiently explained. More than once, I'd guess. But the important thing is that the baby and Yvalia both know they're loved, right?" Isn't that what should be important here? She pauses outside her door to slip the key from her pocket and insert it into the lock to let them inside. Is it hard enough to keep him from doing it again? Probably not. But he also doesn't complain about it. "The baby will grow up that way. It'll be normal. Just like any other weyrbrat." H'vier waits until the door is unlocked and they're stepping inside before saying, "However you look at it, I don't like sharing you with him. What happens when he decides he's done with whoever he's fucking right now and thinks that maybe he wants you instead?" Clearly he doesn't trust her enough not to just fall into his arms. Aaand maybe he shouldn't, but Tayte's expression doesn't give that away. She doesn't, however, express hurt, feigned or otherwise. Instead, she simply shakes her head. "I'm with you, Havi. We are having a baby together. You want to be that baby's Daddy, and I want you to be that. I'm sorry you don't like sharing this family, but K'del and Yvalia are my family, too, like it or not." She already knows the answer is not. She slips toward the booze dresser once they're inside and the door is closed behind them. "You don't have to be involved with them, if you don't want to." This is offered quietly. It does sound an awful lot like that wouldn't be her preference, if it were up to her. H'vier makes an annoyed but dismissive sort of sound about some part of that. He doesn't clarify which. But he does follow her toward the booze, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her to settle on her barely showing belly with a sigh. Surely he's not getting in the way. Though that's the least he could do if he's not going to talk. Not if he wants his booze! Fortunately, Tayte is used to working around these kinds of things, so as long as he shifts when she nudges him with her hips so she can get to the booze bottle she'd intended and the glasses from the drawers of the dresser, there will be no complaint from her. "What it comes down to, Havi, is that things are the way they are and I'm asking what part you want to play, given how things stand. It's not that I'm not willing to make changes for us, I am, but there are some things that aren't going to change. K'del is family, and that's just how it is." She says it gently, despite knowing how repugnant it is for him to hear. "I don't want to talk about him," is all that H'vier says for now, only a little immature, if quietly so, moving when she needs him to and ultimately tilting his head down to rest against hers. He doesn't say anything else for now and he doesn't seem to want to move once she's done, either. He likes it here, thank you very much. But even he knows better than to make her just stand there so he shifts back, letting her settle wherever she likes. "Fine." Tayte agrees, but in a tone that promises it's not over all on its own. It's reinforced by, "But we're going to have to talk about these things sometime, before the baby comes." But she'll let that time not be right now. She doesn't seem entirely impatient to move once his glass is filled, her hands briefly settling down on his around her now gently curved abdomen. But after a few moments like that, she lets him shift back, and turns to hand him his drink before taking his hand and pulling him not toward the loveseat, but toward her bed. "So, now you'll be dying to tell me about your family." There's sarcasm there, of course, but it has to be better than talking about K'del, right? No response to that. The bronzerider has shut down as far as dealing with that family nonsense. It's easy to do when he can just focus on Tayte, after all. He takes the drink and when she leads him toward the bed, he stands beside it to take a drink. "Dying might not be the right word for it. Anyway, you said my mother, not my family," he points out. Tayte lets his hand go to crawl onto the bed, nudging the sea of throw pillows into the order she'd like them before laying back into them and shifting so she's not trapped uncomfortably by the skirt of her blue dress. She rolls her eyes tolerantly at H'vier, "Would you like to talk about something else first?" First implying that they will get to the topic she wants eventually. "Like baby names, maybe?" H'vier watches her in the way that only H'vier really pulls off, though there's that deep affection he has for this particular woman above others. "You've already named it?" is what he takes away from that. The bronzerider sets his drink aside and sits down to unlace and remove his boots so he can join her without being completely uncouth. "No," Tayte answers, shifting her leg so she can touch it to his back while he's busy with the boots. "But I have some ideas. I thought you might like to talk about them. Maybe you'd even have some of your own." She suggests, and then she's shifting more to lean over to the nightstand and fish from the small drawer a small notebook and writing stick before resuming her reclined position on the pillows. "Do you want a boy or a girl?" She asks then, curious. "It doesn't really matter what I want, does it? You'll have whatever's in there whether I want a boy or a girl." Once his boots are safe on the floor, the bronzerider shifts himself up to lay alongside Tayte, his face closer to her belly and an arm slung across her thighs, which probably means his legs are hanging off of the bed somewhere. But he seems comfortable. "I don't care what it is, honestly. So long as I get to hold it once its here." And that it makes it here, really. "What have you got so far?" There's a moment of silence, ocean eyes watching the bronzerider now that he's situated himself, and then she reaches down a hand to slip into his hair, confessing softly, "Me too. About not caring what it is." And probably the unspoken things as well. "There's quite a long list." She flips the notebook briefly to face him and then back. "Of course, I ruled out things like Heart, Heavy, Hate, Threat, Hey and Hay," Tayte begins in a wry tone, smiling toward him, "But for a girl maybe something like Vieta, Vera, Vitaera, or Terah. Ayah, Atria, Eve, or Theta. There's more." She flips the book again and uses the writing stick to indicate two full-length-of-page lists. "For a boy, maybe Rivet," She smirks, maybe she's kidding about that, "Harvey, Tiervet, Avery, or... I don't know, something. That list is shorter." She turns the book to illustrate the not even full-length-of-page list. "Truthfully, I used the best boy name for--" He Who Shall Not Be Named; their last that was lost. "I'm having trouble coming up with others. "I'm not very good with names. Always told Reisoth he was lucky he'd come up with his own. He agrees." H'vier's hand moves up to the slight swell of Tayte's belly, his thumb moving absently back and forth while he considers. Maybe nothing really catches his attention because what he says is, "I'm sure we'll come up with something right by the time they get here. There's plenty of time." "Only five months. Nearly half way," Tayte answers softly, letting the book close and stretching over to put it on the side table. "Although I suppose the baby doesn't need a name right away. I didn't come up with Vali's for sevens after." Her hand resumes the gentle stroking of the bronzerider's hair. "And of course, we don't have to go traditional. We can just pick a name we like, if you'd rather." "Maybe once they're here, we'll just know what to call them. They should have a good, strong rider's name, though." For someone who wasn't weyrbred, he's definitely taken to it like a fish to water. H'vier closes his eyes and lays like that for a few silent moments. And then he rewards those silent moments, so to speak, with an answer to the vintner's questions about his heritage. "My mother was a whore. She never really knew who my father was. Suspected, I think. Which makes me not completely unlike Yvalia, I suppose. I mean," he says, opening his eyes and glancing up at Tayte almost warily, "not to say that you're... anything like that." "A rider's name?" Tayte answers with a laugh, "Already making plans for our son or daughter, are you? And what if he or she wants to be a vintner instead?" Not that Tayte really adores being a vintner so much as it's a career to fall back on when she's no longer attractive enough to make decent tips tending bar. Apparently, H'vier has chosen the right moment to draw the comparison, or at least, the blonde's brain didn't make it from his mother to herself as a mother. "Is that why you like them so much?" She asks thoughtfully though as fingers continue their gentle slip through his dark locks. Her fingers in his hair are definitely doing their part to keep the bronzerider relaxed and edging on drowsy. Or at least looking that way. "They can be whatever they want to be. But if they want to Stand, it's better they have a name that will suit." As for whores, "I'm not sure liking them because of my mother is an entirely comfortable thought. I may be more generous with them because of it, though, I suppose.". "So all the simple and easy to say ones are out then," Tayte's tone is wry, but she manages to sound a little wistful at the same time. "I guess it wouldn't matter as much if it were a girl, since the dragons only sometimes shorten that. I've wondered if I would've become Tay or some such if I'd Impressed." The woman's hand slips from hair to ear and then back again. "I heard it said by a mindhealer once that we look for partners like our parents. I'd like to think I'm not whore-like, though I'm sure that arguably when we first met back in Ista I must've seemed it. Not that you remembered me from back then anyway." She gazes down at the man, "And I can't say as you're much like my father. Well, the one that raised me anyway. I don't know if you're anything like the other one." H'vier's eyes are closed again, relaxed, and his fingers trace small abstract shapes over Tayte's belly. "I don't think I like that idea. I wouldn't want to be with anyone like my mother. I cared about her, sure. She did as best that she could. But she was weak and easily manipulated. You're nothing like her. And I like it that way." Is that enough about his mother now? His tone sort of suggests that's enough for him. There are no promises forthcoming that Tayte is going to let this be the last they ever speak of his mother, but at least for the moment, she doesn't continue to press the point. She lets things lapse into relaxed silence with nothing more than the soft sounds of their fingers to break it. "You'll think about what I asked, won't you? About what kind of role you want to have in all this given how things are? You won't just tell me you'll think about it and then put it off every time I bring it up?" Maybe it seems like it might be rude to ask, but she knows him well enough to dare to ask anyway. "Sweet lips," he's still working on a pet name for her, obviously, "I think about it more than you could possibly know already. I want to be a part of everything. Except your relationship with... him." And since she's so stubborn about that, it makes things difficult for him. "We might just have to see how things go." Always a good way to look at raising a tiny, helpless human being, right? "No." To the pet name. Better luck next time, H'vier. But at least this time Tayte's not making a big deal out of the attempt, and instead, frowning, fingers stilling a moment. "It's sort of a take me or leave me as is kind of thing, Havi." Beat. "And I'm not sure 'see how things go' is a philosophy I'm willing to entertain when there's a little person in the picture. You know that our baby won't be able to even move his or her head without our help? That's not exactly the kind of thing you leave to 'see how things go.'" In a moment of what he probably considers wisdom, H'vier doesn't offer up much response to that except, "I didn't mean it like that." And that's it. Because saying anything else on his mind will probably get him in trouble or start a fight that he doesn't want to have when he's already comfortable where he is. Tayte's fingers resume their movement. "I know you two don't like each other, but if you both could just find a way to focus on what you have in common - on caring about me and Vali and this new baby," Because saying all of this will surely keep them out of a fight, right? "Maybe we could all find a way to make it work. I mean, it's not like I'm sleeping with him, or-- it's like I happen to have a child by another man and happen to be on good terms with him, except we didn't even sleep together to get Vali," Yep. Definitely no fight material there. "Well, that's just really too bad for you." Tayte's voice has edge to it. Not angry edge, but more 'not your nursemaid' edge. But, never fear, H'vier, there's something she can get angry about. Maybe because it strikes close to home. "Is that the only reason? I thought I was nothing like a whore." And see? That thing that didn't bite him before can now be brought to take its pound of flesh, or so warns the heat seeping into her smooth alto. "I didn't say you were a whore, Tayte. Faranth knows he wouldn't have to pay you." Which is clearly so much better than saying that she's anything like that. H'vier doesn't rise yet, though. He stays sitting on the edge of her bed with his back to her, a hand rubbing over the scruff of his jaw. Well, now she's up, and scooting past him, off the bed and managing to make it a few steps before whirling back, expression a combination of anger and hurt. Maybe she's just realized that this is her room. "Why is it so impossible for you to believe that I want to be with you, you-- you--" Apparently, Tayte can't come up with the right word for him. She was prepared to give him a tongue-lashing, but her hormones aren't having it. Suddenly anger gives way to the hurt and frustration and there are tears slipping from her eyes and whatever she might have said is lost to choked sob. H'vier would probably prefer a tongue-lashing to crying. It's easier to deal with the former than the latter. And it's harder to storm out when the woman you profess to love is doing... that. The bronzerider is too stubborn to apologize or anything, though. "Stop pretending like I don't know that I'm not your first choice." The way he says it has turned resigned rather than angry and he rises to step toward her, holding out a hand, palm up. "Calm down, gorgeous. It's not good for the baby." "Stop saying that." Tayte demands through a sob, taking a step back away from him. No, he may not comfort her just now. "How many times do I have to tell you I love you and that I choose to be with you before you stop saying stupid things like that?!" She demands, though it doesn't come out smoothly, broken by gasps for air and a sob or two. And it's true that Tayte doesn't say she loves him very often, maybe less than a handful of times since that first time, but not never, and shouldn't that count for something? He doesn't move to close the distance that she puts between them but H'vier does watch her. He looks cool compared to her crying but there's something concerned in his expression. "I'm never going to stop saying stupid things," he attempts some levity, something to lighten the mood. "I don't want to fight. Do you want me to go?" "No!" Defiant now, and that helps put the sobs on hold for a moment. Tayte glares at him, "I want you to stay and hold me. You don't get to just hurt me and leave anymore." And with that she's advancing on him, meaning to snag up one of his hands to drag him (as much as a slender-and-pregnant thing like Tayte can drag a large man like H'vier) back the few paces to the bed. It turns out that Tayte is capable of dragging H'vier around pretty well. He might even realize it, but that's always kind of up in the air. The fact that she doesn't want him to leave also probably gives him thoughts he shouldn't be having while the woman he's having them about still has tears in her eyes. He lifts a hand to rub a line off of her cheek, watching her with a serious look on his face before he's stepping in against her and pulling her against him. The bed will have to wait for now. |
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