Logs:This Wasn't The Plan
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| RL Date: 1 August, 2013 |
| Who: K'del, Tayte |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Tayte left a note while K'del was away asking for a night for them. K'del picked a night. Tayte has a confession. K'del has a bigger one. The sexy lingerie never makes it out of the bag. |
| Where: Bowl / K'del's Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
| Weather: Drizzly but sunny. With puddles. |
| Mentions: Ali/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, F'manis/Mentions, H'vier/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Angst, omg, so much angst. |
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| It's been a drizzly but sunny day, which isn't so unusual for late spring, enough that there are puddles pooled in the bowl, none too deep or too treacherous, but there. The water isn't the only thing lingering in the bowl though. In the twilight, a figure in lavender sundress can be made out meandering between puddles, bright yellow galoshes on her feet. It's not warm by Istan standards, but after 'Reaches winter, one might understand the impulse to wear such a thing when the weather tempts at all. Occasionally her eyes cast skyward, but otherwise, Tayte seems content enough to get dampened by the drizzle and a boot sometimes (somehow!) finds its way to giving the edge of a puddle a good stomp. Such weather is delightful for Cadejoth, too, who has been skimming the thermals almost ever since Taiga's drills finished for the afternoon. He's been gone from the skies for a little while now, though, appearing again only now: a green-bronze shape indistinct against the sky, growing steadily more distinct until there he is, coming to a splash-y landing upon the bowl floor. There's K'del, too, who hasn't bothered to strap himself in and instead sits astride easily, barefoot, his shirt untucked and his hair wild. "Hey," he says, voice pitched to carry. "Hi." He seems... fine. The splash-y landing has Tayte giggling, though it likely can't be heard, but her expression is appreciative, having seen him coming and watched the whole thing. "Hi!" She calls back, the tone is bright but the expression abruptly holds something less than. It's not the concern he probably expected, but more an apprehension, a look of not quite concealed guilt. "One sec!" She calls and then darts toward the nearest overhang at a little bit of a run. There she's picking up a bag which was spared from the drizzle and she pulls it over one shoulder before returning to Cadejoth's side. "Hey Hero," She greets him with a grin, then she'll climb on up to join K'del. By the time she's up her expression is distracted. It's not the concern he really did expect, and that's unnerving, but K'del's in a decent enough mood, and so whatever reaction he may have had to that, he restricts himself to a cheerful enough smile. Cadejoth's rumble is a warm one, pleased for the recognition; K'del's is abruptly more cautious. "Everything okay?" he wonders, sliding one arm around her as he directs his bronze to take to the skies: Tayte, it seems, doesn't need straps either. It's not like they're going far! He can't see it, but the face she makes wobbles exaggeratedly back and forth between yes and no as the answer to that question. "I'm not sure. You might even be the person who really has the answer to that question. But not yet, probably. It would involve more explanation," is what she finally settles on. Tayte leans into him, her hands falling to the arm around her. "I feel off-balance." She adds a thoughtful moment later. "Not because of Cadejoth's flying, I hope," is K'del's answer, easy despite the fact that her answer obviously confuses and concerns him, at least a little bit. Cadejoth is more inclined to fly in a dramatic kind of way, all enthusiasm, without proper concern for his passengers, but K'del's arm is security (or offered as such), and the flight up to his ledge isn't terribly long. Once they land, K'del is quick to dismount, offering up his arms to help Tayte down, whether she needs it or not. And despite her words, and manner, that gets a laugh from her, short but genuine, a shake of her head reassuring that none of this is sweet Cadejoth's fault. She's an experienced enough passenger that she doesn't need K'del's arms, but she wants them and therefore ends up using them and then further stealing them for an embrace, her cheek resting briefly against his chest before she disentangles enough to shift her bag from one shoulder to another. "Would you rather I didn't ask how you are? I imagine you've been asked a lot." For as long as that embrace lasts, K'del seems content with it, breathing in Tayte's scent in a way that suggests comfort, but nothing anywhere near desperation or any such heavy emotions. "You can ask," he says, as he leads the way indoors. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everyone seems to expect me to be broken or bereft or something, and I'm not. In a way, I just feel free. Azaylia and Z'ian'll be good together, good for the Weyr, and I can go back to just being a Wingsecond, and that's fine by me." "I didn't expect you to be broken." Tayte states, as though for the record. "Perhaps disappointed, or perhaps just with a lot to think about. Not that I'm sure you haven't thought about it before-- in all the 'what if's." The habit of doing that is one they share and have occasionally spoken of. "I do imagine you could be annoyed by all the people asking you if you're okay. Which I think would be reasonable. A few have asked me if you're okay - the ones that heard about Vali and you and all and are too eager for gossip for their own good." Needless to say, she didn't give them anything worth knowing beyond that he was fine, which was the dragon-begotten rumor anyway. "It does surprise me that you didn't want to stay Weyrsecond, at least for a time. You seemed to like it, but I guess it's different now." She follows him in, then continues, even if he stops, toward the bedroom, to put her bag down. K'del stops inside the main room, heading for the hearth to stir up the fire and warm his hands in front of it: even a High Reaches' spring is not so warm as to not need one of those. It's only after Tayte returns from the bedroom that he answers any of what she's said, as if he's been using that time to clear his head, and come up with an appropriate answer. "If Z'ian wants me as Weyrsecond," he says, then, "he can ask me himself. But the real truth is... would you want your previous superior staring over your shoulder, if you moved into his position? Feels like I'd be in the way.Did like it. Was happy with it. But I don't want to be there because there's any obligation. You know?" "Yes, that makes sense." Tayte nods her hands working through her hair already, undoing the fishtail braid that was flopped over her shoulder. "It sounds like you've been making very logical and self-sacrificing choices." There should be approval there, and there is, only it's buried under the purse of her lips, and a slightly sour expression. It's so much easier to not be the only one making bad choices. "Tell me you did at least one stupid thing to blow off steam?" She asks in a half-beg, blue eyes watching the fire move, her hands mimicking his now that her hair's free to dry. K'del turns to give Tayte a perplexed glance, giving every indication that he has absolutely no idea what she's going on about-- or why she's not more approving of his good choices. "Does it count that I simply told my Wingleader I'd be taking a few days off, without seeking permission?" he offers, with a wary glance. "He didn't yell at me, but he did tell me not to be so self-centered next time." There's a laugh and nod, but then that means she's looking at him and he looks wary, and fiddlesticks. She's looking even guiltier. Tayte blinks up at K'del and draws a breath in and then simply, "I made a lot of bad choices. You could call them a series, even. It would have been easier to confess them to you if you'd been making bad ones too, but noooo." This is with false complaint as she turns so her back receives the direct warmth. "You're just too good. Maybe too good for me," She adds the last quietly and there's a fluttery sigh. Obviously, he's not the only one who's done a lot of thinking since the gold flight. This just seems to perplex and confuse K'del, who moves away from the fire and to the nearby couch where he opens his arms to offer towards Tayte. "Want to tell me what you're going on about?" he asks. "Because I can't think of anything you could do that would count as a bad choice as regards me, unless you've given Vali to someone else-- you haven't made a decision like that, have you?" He doesn't really seem to believe it. Arms. Arms are good. Like vtol to flame, Tayte's flitting gracefully to join him, though perhaps a touch hesitant when she gets closer; after all, what if... What she's not hesitant about is an answer to the last question, "No, nothing like that. Only she does sort of, kind of, tangentially figure into how I was thinking at the time." She chews her lip, then, "You remember how I said one of the guys that might be Vali's blood-father was here and I'd run into him some months back?" "I--" K'del's hug is rather more friendly than sexy, but no doubt that has something to do with the fact that he's still bewildered by whatever it is Tayte is trying to tell him: he genuinely doesn't get it. "Sure, I remember you saying that. Is he bothering you, Tayte? Is something wrong? Just... tell me." Please. "Ugh." Tayte pulls away from him to sit up straighter and lean forward, scrubbing her hands across her face. The ugh is her annoyance with not being able to come to it in her own time, her blush shows her embarrassment both being put on the spot and also for: "After Hraedhyth's flight, I slept with him." She twists, eyes looking imploringly toward K'del, "It was supposed to be you. I wanted you. I wanted to make good choices and sleep with a good person and not just spread my legs when I got the impulse." Like she once upon a time did and might now be doing again. "But I didn't wait, and I should have, and I slept with him, and he's awful, and-" She reaches up to push fingers into her hair, curling in on herself a little. "And I feel like I betrayed my gender to sleep with him. My whole gender. And you. And myself. And that's the worst of all." She quiets. Her face isn't terribly visible behind her arms, but she does venture a peek to the side to try to catch sight of his face and his reaction. K'del... doesn't go anywhere, not physically and not mentally. No: he leans in to try and put his arms around Tayte more firmly, to hold her, whether or not she believes herself worthy of being held. "Flights are... like that," he says, simply. "You didn't betray me. Can't tell you whether you betrayed yourself or anyone else, but you did not betray me be sleeping with someone." He's very calm; honestly, he barely seems to have reacted at all except with concern, which may or may not be satisfying. "If you'd gone out and slept with him out of nowhere, well, that would be one thing - though I still wouldn't judge you for it. But shells, Tayte. A gold flight. Pretty much every adult member of the Weyr got laid that afternoon, I bet." "Well, no," Tayte agrees, letting those arms surround her. "That's not really what I meant. I mean, I know you don't care if I sleep with other people and just want me to be happy. But I'd been inwardly working myself up to the point where I would-- could-- have sex with you. Because I want to. And you've been so patient with me. And given me reason to be patient with myself. And maybe it sounds stupid, but I wanted the first time after so long to be special, sort of, and I felt like it would be with you, and then a sharding gold dragon gets horny, and I get horny, and-- ugh." She sighs, collapsing her weight into his arms. "I just meant that I'd wanted it to be one way and had sort of set myself on that you would be the one I'd do that with the first time because I wasn't going to sleep with just anyone, and he's not just anyone," because clearly there's history there, "But-- I-- care about you and I want you and-- I just-- wanted to go differently." As she started talking again, she'd pulled a little away with the energy of what must be a mess inside her head, but now she collapses back again with a little huff, frustration causing her lower lip to pucker out and brow to crease. "Shh," says K'del, leaning down to press a kiss to Tayte's head. "Most things don't go the way we intend them to, I find. In life. And that's okay. And--" He hesitates, like there's something on his mind, something he wants to get off of his chest, though perhaps this is not the right time. "I'm not bothered, so there's no reason for you to be bothered. In a way... it was easier, wasn't it, giving in to the flight lust, rather than having to work yourself up to it, after so long?" 'And--'? Tayte turns her head abruptly to look at him, expression a touch wary. "And?" She prompts. "And no. I wasn't myself. But that in a minute. First, and?" Because as all women know, whatever he's actually going to say can't be as bad as the eighty-thousand things they can come up with as possibilities. 'And' is not something K'del really seems to want to answer; the look he gives Tayte says that much, all manner of conflicted confusion and hesitation visible there, though none of it overshadows the real and obvious affection that's so frequently there. "And," he says, after a deep breath, and a sigh, "I don't know if our relationship should take that step, now. For now, I mean. Which--" he's quick to add, "has nothing to do with you or your desirability." He looks miserable. She flinches. She can't help it. It's an involuntary reaction, something prompted from deep within. It's followed by her pulling away from him. Not quite all the way away, but enough that she can sit up, shift to look him in the face. Tayte considers his expression with an impassive one of her own. "Would you like to explain?" The words are carefully controlled, betraying little more than her face and that much is really only what the words provide: she's letting the door stay cracked open instead of slamming it completely. K'del looks even worse, now, as his arms drop towards his lap and his gaze seeks, desperately, to try and reassure her. "Tayte--," he begins, imploring her, though there's no real sense of what he's imploring her to do and or think. Then, a swallow. He started this, but it's obvious he doesn't know how to move it on. Except, finally: "Wasn't supposed to happen like this. There's-- a woman I've been seeing. And mostly, I end up seeing women who aren't possessive, or interested in monogamy. But with her it just... happened. And we haven't had the talk about what it means, and so maybe it'll be fine, but if it isn't... it doesn't mean I don't care about you. And Yvalia." Tayte is absolutely still. Well, except for the small breaths that are drawn carefully as she looks at him, and listens. Then there's simply a nod, "You must care about her a great deal, to be preempting." Since they've not had the talk. "She's a lucky woman." The words are quiet, and cool, carefully measured each in turn. If only he could hear the neurosis talking in her head-- well, no, it's far better that he can't hear that. She shifts, moving a little further away from him, her eyes turning away from his face to stare at the far wall for a long moment. "I can't and wouldn't change what you feel for her. And I can't change what you don't feel for me." Her shoulders rise and fall as if it were simple, and she gracefully rises. Turning, she looks down at the bronzerider, her fingers curled, but not to fists at her sides "I'd say that even if she doesn't want monogamy. You do." Fidget. One of K'del's hands lifts to try and reach after Tayte and bring her back. He looks-- it's probably better not to try and describe how he looks. "No. Tayte. Please. Listen to me. Never said I don't feel things for you. Never said I don't want... I do want you. I don't want to hurt either of you, and shells, I don't know what to do about it. Shells, do you think I haven't been sleeping next to you for months, dreaming about us? I just... have to work things out." This is what a begging, pleading bronzerider sounds like. It's not pretty. Now it's Tayte's turn to look confused. Well, confused, and now that the mask is broken, yes, hurt. "So what you're saying is that you do feel things for me, but not as much as what you feel for this woman you've been seeing, who I presume you've been sleeping with because she's probably not broken like I am, and you wanted to tell me we shouldn't sleep together because you didn't want to hurt either of us just in case she has a problem with you sleeping with other people even though there's been no discussion of whether or not you shouldn't be sleeping with other people?" She pushes a hand through her hair, it's a fast movement, one that throws off some of the other feelings she must have buried a little deeper, "So this is a conversation you're going to have with all your other would-be lovers? Or am I special?" Special, in this case, does not imply something good. (It's a trap.) "No," says K'del, launching himself to his feet, though he's wise enough not to try and grab for Tayte (thankfully). "No, that's not it at all. It's - fuck, Tayte. I'm just asking for some time to work things out, before I screw everything up with everyone I care about." It's too late for that, and he acknowledges that in his expression, even if he can't find the words to say it. "Wasn't supposed to feel anything for any of you, let alone both. I wasn't supposed to let myself-- every time I do, I fuck things up. I'm sorry. Please don't go." Well, so far, she isn't going. Whether that's a good thing or bad remains to be seen. Tayte's fingers uncurl and then re-curl along her thighs. "Right now, your apology isn't helping." She starts with, then: "Can you appreciate how this sounds to me, K'del?" Not Kas. K'del. "It sounds like you want me on standby, in case it's okay with her that you can have other lovers. It makes it sound like regardless of what you might feel for me-" She sounds dubious, "-or what I might feel for you, you've already decided that it's most important to you to honor her wishes." Her eyes close a moment and she has to swallow hard. When she opens them again, she looks deeply sad, "Is that how it works for you? Whoever wants monogamy first gets it? Or is it that you want it with her?" She doesn't see a third choice, even if there is one. She sounds confused, hurt, mostly (perhaps to her credit) just trying to understand. Not that understanding is necessarily going to save either of them any angst. K'del opens his mouth, and then stops, closing it again and shaking his head miserably. He slumps back down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, and just breathing for several long seconds. When he does speak, his voice is muffled through his hands. "This was supposed to be just casual. Just friends-with-benefits. And this is what I worried about, from the start. That we'd end up getting too deep, and then something would come along and change everything. Do you want me to be in love with you, is that it?" His hands drop from his face. "Don't know what the answer is, Tayte. Don't want to hurt you; know that I have. Know that my apologies mean nothing right now. I'm your friend, but right now, I can't be your lover. I'm sorry." Tayte throws her hands up. It's a brief gesture of frustration, exasperation, and anger all balled into one. Her eyes go ceilingward and then she's closing her eyes and her toe taps, not straight up and down but side to side and lightly. Her lips move but there's no sound. If he watches closely, it's numbers that she's mouthing. By the time she gets to fifteen, she can open her eyes again, expression one that's confining her less pleasant feelings. "I don't know what I want. I've never been in a relationship. Sure as shell never tried to be monogamous. Never cared for anyone that wanted me to be." One hand moves to settle on her hip while the other pushes up through her damp hair again, mussing it. "I wanted-- want you to be happy. I want me to be happy. I want Yvalia to be happy. Whether that's achieved by us being casual or being in love or being in love and casual, or just friends. I want us to be happy. All of us. Individually and together," Because they're family. So there's always a together now. "I didn't say your apologies don't mean anything. I said they're not helping. They don't help me understand what it is you expected. Did you think I felt so little for you that I'd just nod and smile and wait for you to see if it worked out with her?" She takes a deep breath, "Do you know why I wanted it to be you that I slept with the first time? And maybe even all the times after with a man?" K'del waits, while she counts, his head turned now so that he can look at her with sad, self-loathing eyes. He's silent as she talks, making no move to interrupt, nor even to prepare his own reply, unless it's all deep down in his hidden thoughts. "Want you to be happy, too. All of us. Wanted... I really did want to be your first, wanted to prove that I wanted you for you and not just because you're beautiful and vivacious and--" He stops himself, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. He sounds sad, now, and when he finally speaks again, it sounds like he's not entirely sure he wants to know the answer. "No. But I suspect whatever your reasons are, they're just going to make me feel even more like an ass." Now there's a glitter of tears when she blinks at him. He couldn't even let her just say it without guilt, after everything he's said tonight. "You're right. They will." Instead of giving them, Tayte moves toward the bedroom. K'del is bewildered when Tayte walks away, and after several awkward seconds of uncertainty, he stands, and moves to follow her. "Doesn't mean I don't want - need - to hear them," he's saying, as he turns the corner into the cavern of his bedroom. "Pretty sure I deserve to feel like an ass." When he enters, Tayte's pulling her bag from where she left it up over her shoulder, "I already told you I'm not going to make you feel anything for me. Couldn't, wouldn't, won't." It might be taking his words a bit too literally. "You'll feel what you feel." She turns now, fingers wrapped around opposite sides of where the strap meets the bag. "I didn't want to tell you to make you feel like an ass. I wanted to tell you so that you'd know how I feel about you." Her face is showing that hurt again, and eyes are still holding the threat of tears. "But I don't want to tell you how I feel about you if it just makes you feel like an ass." Who would want that? "I'd want me telling you how I feel to make you feel good things, and that's not going to happen now. Maybe ever. Why would I tell you something that might cause you heartache? Or maybe worse, have you feeling nothing at all, or sorry for me." She's too proud for that, but definitely a woman for thinking these are all possibilities. K'del moves, settling himself against one of the mostly-bare walls, his gaze fixed onto Tayte. "I hurt you," he says, simply. "Plenty of women would want to hurt me back. It's not your way, I know that, but... part of me wants to be hurt by it. But you don't have to say anything at all, Tayte. Regardless of anything... I do care about you. Always will. And this-- it's not what I wanted for us. Just don't want you ever to blame yourself for it, because this is me, not you. None of this changes the fact that-- none of it changes anything for Yvalia. I promise." "I never thought it did." Change anything for Yvalia. "That almost makes it worse, you know? Because at least in that you're exactly who I hoped you'd be." Tayte's tears are falling now. Slowly slipping down her cheeks one after another, though the shuddering breaths and the vice grip she has on the straps of the bag must surely show her effort to control even these. "What did you want for us?" She probably shouldn't ask, but maybe she, too, wants to be hurt with the knowing. Those tears haven't escaped K'del's notice, and his arms twitch, now, as though he's having to physically restrain himself from throwing them around her and just holding her. There are tears in his eyes, too. "I can't," he says, his voice cracking, just slightly. "I just can't. It felt so good to belong with people. But I don't know that I would ever have been in love with you." "But you might be or you maybe could be-- with her?" The question comes so softly from Tayte, the tears there but momentarily controlled. It's time, now, for being honest, it seems. "It's-- maybe I could be, one day. I don't know. Oh fuck, Tayte, I'm sorry. You know what the really fucking stupid thing is? She's not at High Reaches and she never will be, and some small part of me thinks of that as safe. You think you're fucked up, but me? So am I. Chances are I'm just going to hurt her, too." Tayte wants to be strong. The struggle is obvious in her expression, and in the way that her chin darts down once in a crisp nod. But it's more than she can bear. She takes the unsteady steps necessary to get to the edge of the bed, and turns to sink down upon it. The bag can't be comfortable as she leans forward and it dangles along side her lets, her face goes into her hands and her shoulders shake, though her sobs come silently. It's too much for K'del, too, who sinks silently down to the floor and buries his face in his hands. He is the worst person ever. It takes time. Time for Tayte to find some self-control, time for the sobs to abate their silent shaking that really look like enough that it might find her sore come morning. She's shifted the bag at some point, letting it fall back to the floor where it's forgotten. Not moving, except to drop her hands to her knees and straighten, her ragged voice comes. "I've never been in love. Not with you, not with anyone. Came close once before, maybe, but never really." She looks away from the wall to where her hands are trembling oh-so-softly on her knees, "And even that didn't feel half so good as what we've had has. To me. Faranth only knows I didn't expect you to turn up in my life. You're the closest I've ever come to what I think I want. I do--" She falters, "When I say I care, I mean I love you. Not I'm in love with you, but I love you. You feel like family. You feel like home. And I don't know if that's something that ever would've turned into a grand romantic love like they have in those stupid Harper books. But I wanted to find out. And I wanted to believe that even if it didn't, it might be enough -- more than enough-- that everyone was happy." She struggles a moment to get her feet under her, fingers into fists now, her nails surely digging into the flesh of her palms. "I'm sorry, Kas. It was stupid of me." She dips to pick up the bag, though only the strap and the weight of it doesn't clear the floor. "That's the thing," says K'del, after some silence - a lot of silence, really, all the silence. It's gone on and on and on, and his expression has been utterly impassive all throughout. "I love you, too. I'm not in love with you, but all of this? Being a family? It's made me feel safe. So no, it wasn't stupid. None of it was. We... I don't want to stop being a family, Tayte. I've no right to ask anything of you, but... I don't want to lose you, even if I can't have you. But you can tell me to go between." "Kas," Tayte's voice is pained saying the nickname that's oft-been a sign of her affection, "Love," The word tries to choke her, but it comes out, and she turns sad, sad eyes on him. "If this woman wouldn't want you having casual sex with me, there's no chance that it wouldn't hurt her worse for you to keep me." Not even mentioning the hurt it would cause her. "She'll let you keep Vali, of course." She pulls the bag slowly onto her shoulder, like it weighs more now than it did when she skipped across the bowl with it. "But this woman who isn't of 'Reaches and will never be will not stand for you coming home to play house with me, if she's worried about a little thing like sex." Which is to say, even without the sex, what they've shared has been far more intimate than a little knocking boots. K'del's mouth opens, to argue, but no words come out. She's right - and he obviously knows it. "I'm going to miss you," he says. "But-- we can still do family dinners. Can even take you guys out for outings, maybe. It'll be different, but... we don't have to lose everything." There's something faintly hopeful in his tone. "You've already given up everything. You've chosen what you want and what you don't.." Tayte's words hurt her. Like swallowing razor blades. The tears are there again. "I hope that you will be happy." These, too, hurt, but they're sincere. Swallowing hard, K'del looks like he's about to lose it. It may be that he will, soon, but... not yet. "I hope you will be too," he murmurs, in a choked voice, not much above a whisper. Another swallow, and then, "Cadejoth will give you a ride down. I'm - so sorry, Tayte." Tayte's steps are uneven as she crosses to stand in front of him. "Stand up." She's close. K'del hesitates. It's hard to tell whether he's hesitating because he doubts what she wants from him, or because he can't bring himself to actually move. Finally, however, he clambers awkwardly to his feet, silent as he returns her glance. Ocean eyes meet baby blue, this time unflinching but with profound depth of emotion. "I wanted it to be you because I knew that if I got pregnant again that you would stand by me. That you would stand by me through anything." How wrong Tayte was. "I even thought maybe someday I'd want that. A child of our making." Tears trickle down her cheeks. "I need you to do two things for me. Just two. Can you do two things for me?" His face just... falls. Ashen-faced, eyes wide, he just looks at her; he's trying desperately not to cry. When he tries to speak, a moment later, the words don't come out: in the end, he settles for a nod. Two things. He can do two things. "First. You're going to forget for two seconds that there's another woman. For two seconds, you're going to think only about the fact that I love you and you love me, and you're going to pretend that you don't know it's all gone to shit, and for those two seconds, you're going to kiss me like you should've been kissing me all along and like it's the last time you ever will," Because it very well might be. Tayte takes a step in with a shuddery breath and reaches to slip her arms around his neck. "I can't do two seconds," he says, but that's right before his arms go around her in return - and right before his mouth drops to hers. And he's right: it's a lot longer than two seconds before he draws back, his tears having dripped from his face to hers, though that hasn't made the kiss any less powerful. He's thrown all of his emotion into it: for as long as that kiss lasts, she really is everything. His tear mingle with the many more of hers that have fallen, and she's struggling to draw breath when it's over - both from the power, of which she gave ounce for ounce and pound for pound back, and from keeping the sobs at bay. She does. Tayte draws in a slow, deep breath. "Second thing," Moving on from the first is decidedly the last thing she wants to do. "You are going to fly me down to the bowl with Cadejoth. I deserve at least that much from you." She's not making a walk of shame, after all. K'del sucks out a long, low breath after that kiss, attempting with limited success to keep it from catching. "Of course," he says, nodding as he speaks. "I'm sorry, I should have thought of that myself." His arms drop awkwardly to his sides, his expression-- it's probably safer not to try and describe what his expression is like. "Do you want to wash your face, first? Have a drink? Though a drink in my face?" "Would it make you feel better if I had one unkind moment to prove I'm human?" Tayte asks softly, after having shaken her head to refuse the other offers. "No," says K'del. "I doubt it." He exhales, and then indicates his head towards the passage back into the main area of the weyr, and the ledge beyond. "Shall we, then?" Before... before he does anything stupid(er)? Before the tears really set in? Before. Wordlessly, Tayte precedes him to the ledge, her pace as uneven as her breathing. The look she gives Cadejoth is mournful at best. Cadejoth's response is a huff of warm, meaty breath, apologetic in its own way; his eyes whirl in a slow, mournful way. The trip down to the bowl is quick - no unnecessary diversions - and K'del is silent throughout. When Cadejoth lands, K'del hesitates... and still says nothing. Tayte is silent, too. Silent until they land. Then for a moment, she leans back into him, letting her head touch his shoulder. "Vali won't notice you're not around as much until probably next seven. We'll talk then to decide how to explain things." She meant it when she said she'd not take Vali away from him, even if something happened between them: something like this. But in the same sentence, she's also telling him she needs some time. A seven is too short, once you're a parent, your timeline is your child's timeline. Vali will likely want answers in a seven. Tayte will be able to feel his wince, even without looking at him. "Of course," he says, in a way that makes no attempt to hide the awfulness of that prospect. This is something he's done before: telling a child something like this. "May I take her out for lunch or something, in the meantime? Don't want her to feel like she's being abandoned." "Of course." Tayte's reply doesn't require thought. "You can see her whenever you like. Just leave word with the nannies if you pick her up so I know, and have her home by bedtime." Since there isn't a space for her in his weyr, not a proper one. "She's your daughter too." An agreement she might be feeling regret for now, but an agreement she won't go back on, at least not now. She lingers. "Of course," promises K'del in return. Again, it looks like there's more he'd like to say - his silence is heavy, just short of tangible in the air between them. "The boys and I are going to spend a few days camping at my family's place, for my turnday in a few sevens. I'd like to bring Vali along for an afternoon, at least, then... but we can talk about that later." That's well after the seven. He hesitates. "Tayte... look after yourself, please? And if you need anything... you're still my friend." She tenses when he speaks of Vali going away from the Weyr with him. But she manages a nod. "Later." She agrees to the discussion at least. Tayte tenses a little more when he says those words. "Friend." She mumbles, "It's funny. When we met, that word felt like so much. Now it feels hollow by comparison." She sits up, slowly. "Will you help me down, please?" She asks it softly. K'del has noticed that tension, but no, now is not the time for probing it, nor even for her remarks on their friendship. He swallows, and then clambers down to the ground, evidently intending to offer his hand up, rather than supporting her from above on her way down. "Of course." It's late, that remark: he's already offering physically. But it fills the silence. For a moment, it's like the whole night is starting over again. Except they're in the bowl, and the light is gone from the sky, not on Cadejoth's ledge at dusk. As then, though, Tayte slips into an embrace. But this one, too, is brief. Just long enough to say, "I hope that our more than two seconds stays with you in moments that are only for you. That you won't forget that moment. It's what it should have been all along." That's a little vague but specifics mean tears right now. She exhales and steps away, "I know it will be with me forever. In moments that are only for me." She meets his gaze as she speaks, then she's turning, bag over shoulder and running in her yellow galoshes toward haven, toward home; home isn't standing beside Cadejoth in the bowl. Not anymore. She's gone before K'del can answer, but answer he does: "I'll never forget," he says, to the spring evening; to Cadejoth. "How could I?" He stands there a long time, just watching in the direction she departed in, before he finally mounts back up. They don't go home: the pale bronze disappears between. But at least he's not running to someone: just somewhere. CommentsComments on "Logs:This Wasn't The Plan"Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 05 Aug 2013 00:28:10 GMT.
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Comments on "Logs:This Wasn't The Plan"Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Mon, 05 Aug 2013 00:28:10 GMT.
- sniffles* Oh Tayte...so sad. :(
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