View source for Logs:Because It's Not Love, But It's Still A Feeling

{{Log
|Involves=High Reaches Weyr
|type=Vignette
| who =K'del
| where = K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr
| what = After Milani gives him the news that there will be no nookie while she works things out with A'son, K'del goes back to his weyr to drink, and mourn the passing of a good, fun thing.
| when = Day 8, Month 4, Turn 19
|day=8
|month=4
|turn=19
|IP=Interval
|IP2=10
| gamedate = 2009.03.22
| quote = 
| weather = 
| categories = General
| mentions = A'son, Milani
| icons = 
| log = Well... shit.

Even anticipating - and thus, avoiding - the conversation these past days hadn't really prepared K'del for how it felt, afterwards, as he walked away. After eleven months (more or less), he'd gotten so used to Millie being there that he'd never really considered an end. And not this end. And it was the end; nothing she'd said had convinced him otherwise. It was love - of course they'd make it work. 

He went home. He should probably have been doing some more productive, but he wasn't, at this moment, quite ready to face that. The weyr seemed terribly empty; he ignored Cadejoth, whose concern was, right now, ultimately not what he wanted. He cast around, for something, and ended up standing in front of his desk, where that bottle of brandy, his graduation gift, still sat unopened. He'd intended to save it for a special occasion. Well, he thought, grimacing. Why not? 

So he drank straight out of the bottle, sinking down onto the bed, careless of his boots on the fabric. He hadn't been lying, when he said he wanted her to be happy, that whatever happened, he'd be okay, so long as she was happy. But the 'okay' was sort of relative: shells, he was going to miss her. They could be friends still, sure, absolutely. But hands off friends. He hated that. 

Brandy wasn't really his drink, though at least this was peach and not apple. He stared dully at the bottle, at the date on it. Twenty-five turns ago. Older then he was. Older than Milani. 

Not, he noted, older than '''him'''. 

Why did people always have to fall in love, anyway? Okay, true, he'd known she was in love with-- him, before any of this. And even at turnover, they'd talked about how if things changed, she'd still want him back. But it hadn't exactly seemed likely, then. She'd seemed pretty damn certain it'd never happen.

He drank again. Stupid people and their love. Was it going to happen forever, then? Get something good with someone, and then they'd fall in love, or be in love already, and need to walk away? People who were that in love with someone didn't want someone else. 

That was his problem, he supposed. Love. No, it wasn't love he felt for her, never had been, never been his thing - but it was still a feeling. Still '''something'''. Not just lust. Well. Sure. A lot of lust. But it had been fun, and he liked her, and... Ah, fuck it. Another sip. he'd get over it. He'd be gracious. He'd compliment their pretty babies. Whatever. 

One night stands - easier all round. Much easier. Safer. 

He put the bottle down, and went back to his desk, getting out a clean piece of paper. he sat, staring at it for a while, and then lifted his pen: 

:Dear A'son, 

:She's in love with you. Hope you know that. Hope you realise what you have in her; she's something really special. Hop


He put the pen down. Damn it. No. He burnt the letter, watching it blacken, then fall to pieces, nothing left but ash. He wanted her to be happy, and if that meant no more of that (incredible, fantastic, amazing, mindblowing) sex, then so be it. But he wasn't going to hand it to him on a platter. 

He didn't finish the bottle of brandy. What was the point? Being drunk didn't solve anything. He could've found out if someone else was free to spend the night, or even just stay a little while, but that didn't quite seem right, either. 

''I hope it works out for you, Millie. I hope it's everything you want it to be. I hope '''he''' is.''

He buried himself in drills, in sweeps, in running errands and making deliveries. In drinking, though not in excess. 

And then Satiet was dead, and it was as though there was nothing left to fall apart.

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[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2OBkOfOAZ0 Because it's not love / But it's still a feeling. / No it's not love / But my body's reeling / To move closer next to you.]

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}}