Difference between revisions of "Logs:Same Old, Same Old"

He came. Of course he did. K'del was reliable that way. Not that Tayte knew when she refused to open the door for the concerned crafter that that crafter would go straight to her Weyrleading best-friend, but she let herself guess in the back of her mind when he turned up.

By then, she was changed, ready to go for the bath she so needed. She hadn't felt this dirty and used since Ista, and that was saying something. She hadn't cried long; it had just been such a shock. A shock that he'd meant it.

K'del wasn't buying her calm act, though she supposed it wasn't really an act. Was she relieved? Maybe she was. Deep down. Or maybe it just hurt so much that she had to pretend it was for the best so the hurting didn't swallow her whole. So she talked to him. She always talked to him. Well, except once or twice. But that's what best-friends were for, right? She told him the story, talked about her surprise. He was reserved in his comments, of course, but she'd come to expect that from him where H'vier was concerned. His wishes were ever for her happiness and his hopes that she was right, that this was ultimately for the best, even if it was a dick move on H'vier's part.

She still felt numb. She confessed. He didn't know the half of it. The fuck me heels and the little black dress. The threesome. She told him all.

Then it was K'del's turn to be in shock or if not in shock, horrified by the sequence of events. It earned her a hug and quiet words of consolation. Not that that's what she was going for, but it helped the pain that was starting to seep in at the edges of her calm. "Things will get easier," K'del had promised, and she so wanted to believe him. She dared to hope.

She told him about keeping her distance from H'vier for a time. He had hurt her badly, much as she didn't want to admit it, on top of the broken heart. Tavi could see him, of course, but Tayte wouldn't, if she could help it. They'd resolved most of the concerns about Tahvra at any rate, before things happened.

Tayte was sorry that K'del had had to hear these things, the things that seemed like just a different version of things that had come before, and told him so. K'del, ever the best of possible friends, promised to be there for her, and not to worry. Of course, he hoped for her sake that this would be the last time.

To lighten it, she suggested he vet her future suitors in case her taste proved to be so poor again. To cheer her, he put on a face and accepted the important responsibility, not-joking that he had to begin practicing for Yvalia's future suitors and Iska's after her. Could she be blamed for hiding her face in his shoulder at the very prospect of their little girl as a grown woman? The least she could do to mollify her reaction was to say she hoped Vali would take after the him of now and his good sense and not the him of before or the her of ever. He assured her that their daughter would learn all the good sense that neither of them apparently did.

That was the end of it. She told him of her desperate need for a bath.

"Come and use mine. We can have another drink after you've finished, if you like."

That earned him a hug. One should never, except under the most grievous of circumstances, turn down a chance at a private bath, and perhaps especially not then.