UNSPEAKABLE
in the department of mysteries
seer
26 years old
Half-Blood
Lee
10 posts
0 likes
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Post by Devon Nikolaj Noskov on Aug 4, 2013 13:01:34 GMT -6
 Sarreaha had always been the exception, to more or less anything. In the beginning it had been awkward to hold a conversation with her, but as they spent more and more time with each other she had become accustomed to his stoic ways, and he had loosened up, eventually opening up a little, smiling even. He was not falling into old patterns, and it was so easy to do so. For a moment, it could’ve been just any other night; as if they had stayed together all this time and that they were sharing a private moment the morning after. It was familiar, and all too easy to pretend like nothing had changed, like nothing had happened between them. But, something had happened between them. He had happened between them. One way or another, he knew he was the reason for her misery. The only way he could justify it was because he firmly believed that he was saving her form even greater pain.
Devon did not question her request, despite the fact that she expressed her desire to leave. He did not comment on it, or seem to react to it, outwardly. Inside, he could not help but to feel some sort of relief. It had been so long since he had been her in presence that he had forgotten how she made him feel. It was perhaps selfish for him to want her to be there when he had so abruptly pushed her out of his life, but he could not help the way he felt when he was around her, and right now he felt: relieved.
He stood for a moment, holding her gaze as she finally looked at him. Her eyes were as they had always been, captivating and filled with emotion, the opposite of his dark, unreflective ones. He gave her a small, unintelligible smile before he broke the gaze and went to the kitchen. His apartment was small so the kitchen and living room aria was in the same room. He went over and filled a tall glass with water. He walked back over to her and handed her the glass. “I have some aspirin in the bathroom,” he said quietly, walking past her to the bathroom. He haltered and lingered for a second. “Feel free to sit down,” he said calmly, motioning for the couch he had slept on before dashing into the bathroom.
The tall man stood for a moment, caught up in his own reflection in the mirror above his sink. What was he doing? He was so confused, and this kind of emotional confusion rarely happened to him these days. He sighed quietly before picking up a pair of black pants that laid on the bathroom floor. He opened the mirror cabinet above his sink and found two tablets. Swiftly he made his way back to the fair brunette and handed her the pills. He had no idea where they would go from here.
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HEALER
at st. mungos
25 years old
Half-Blood
Crushing
Cha
16 posts
0 likes
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Post by Sarreaha Maura Avis on Sept 13, 2013 9:39:57 GMT -6
There had been moment when Sarreaha had stopped to think how and what she would ever say to Devon if she ever ran into him again. For the life of her, she could not remember a single one those envisioned scenarios. Perhaps she had vented it all out the prior evening. Although, she would admit that that would not have been the way she would have wanted to share such information. As it was, she could not even clearly remember what she had said then. She knew she had spoken something, as she could remember a few of Devon’s expressions through her hysteria, but it was all mainly a blur of emotions and panic on the healer’s part. She really did not know what she was doing in that moment. Sarreaha knew that she should leave, to get her ducks back in a line, and yet she was finding it difficult to do so. It was so unfair how he could still affect her after so much time apart.
She mutely accepted the glass of water from him with a small nod. Her eyes dropped to stare at the clear liquid as he moved past her. The water seemed such a stark contradiction of her thoughts and feelings in that moment. The liquid so clear in its container while her thoughts were like muddied water. For her musings, she almost missed Devon’s words and her gaze found his when he spoke. Once more she nodded mutely. Some part of her brain pointed out that she could still flee while he was fetching the aspirin. She could run away from this awkward encounter. But she had been running for so long now, and her legs refused to move in the direction of the door. Instead, she found herself sitting down, not even really remembering doing so.
The moments before Devon returned found Sarreaha ducking her head down as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. The glass hung between her finger tips of one hand, while the other cupped her forehead. She still stared down at the glass, wishing the water would lend some of its clarity to her mind. Instead, she just found lyrics from a random song floating through her mind at the subject, If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the lyrics. The song must have played at the club the prior night to be so fresh in her mind, surely…
Devon’s return caught her by surprise, and she looked up at him before accepting the tablets. “Thanks,” she responded quietly. She stared at the pills for a moment before popping them into her mouth and following them down with water. Don't speak as I try to leave 'cause we both know what we'll choose. If you pull then I'll push too deep and I'll fall right back to you.
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UNSPEAKABLE
in the department of mysteries
seer
26 years old
Half-Blood
Lee
10 posts
0 likes
|
Post by Devon Nikolaj Noskov on Mar 12, 2014 16:44:06 GMT -6
Devon watched her carefully swallow the pills. He wasn’t quite sure where they went from there. Frankly, this was awkward, not just for him, but he was fairly sure it was uncomfortable for the both of them. And to think that they once used to hold hands and kiss, whereas now they could hardly look each other in the eye. Devon took a deep breath, letting it sigh out of him for a moment as he thought about what to do. He had envisioned hundreds of scenarios of what he would do or say when or if he ever saw Sarreaha again, and now that she was there he had no idea what to do or say. He was at loss for what to do, and still, he felt it was somehow his responsibility to keep the awkward and unhinged conversation going. After all, he was the one who had brought her home to him, to his small, tiny apartment.
The cleared his throat a little, pushing back his slightly longish hair from his eyes. “So, uhm, can I get you anything else? Breakfast? Coffee?” he asked, unsure of what the social protocol here was. All he knew was that that it was morning and he needed coffee before he could process anything thoroughly. If only his visions would kick in now so that he could know where to go from here. Devon felt itchy, and he could feel the need for caffeine or preferably nicotine. He could really need a fag about now, to calm himself, or to figure out what was going on.
Regardless of what Sarreaha’s answer was, Devon had moved towards the tiny part of the room that held the small kitchen. It was a two-room apartment, so the kitchen and living room was in the same room. He used his hands to make the coffee, turning on the coffee machine and finding coffee filters. It kept his hands busy and some sort of sounds to come out of it, clinking of coffee cups and closing boxes; anything was better than the unbearable silence that followed their incomprehensible conversation. As the smell of coffee filled the small living room area, Devon looked at Sarreaha in the pale morning light that came from his dirty windows. “So, how’ve you been, since, yeah, since graduation,” Devon asked awkwardly. He felt obligated that he said something, that he asked her of anything, although he did not really expect to get a straight answer. She didn’t owe him that. In fact, she didn’t owe him anything. The awkwardness prolonged, and he felt stupid for even asking her. He knew what she had been doing all these years, of course he knew. He’d never stopped caring, never stopped knowing or looking out for her. He’d been lurking in the shadows, keeping himself updated on her life, he’d just never had the guts to walk over to her and talk to her.
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HEALER
at st. mungos
25 years old
Half-Blood
Crushing
Cha
16 posts
0 likes
|
Post by Sarreaha Maura Avis on Apr 7, 2014 8:30:25 GMT -6
THEY WERE SO FAR out of their depth, a meeting before either of them was ready for it. But then, Sarreaha had to concede, would they ever be ready? Never meeting, or pretending not to see, allowed things to just keep moving around in circles, to allow feelings to just simmer and resolve nothing. However, at least now a ball had been put in motion. They had been forced to face to one another, to speak (or try to if this current stilted atmosphere was anything to go by). Whether anything real substantial came from this single meeting was inconsequential as it had already done something. The ball between them was moving once more. They had met face to face, volleyed words. That ball was no longer stationary, and there was no more pretending otherwise. They could no longer pretend that the other did not also reside in that area, but rather face facts. Perhaps it was not much, but a trickle could move mountains given enough time.
Yet, this was still all far too philosophical for Sarreaha’s mind to begin to wade through in her current state. Truthfully, she felt that was unfairness of it all. Devon seemed so unaffected, so calm and composed—yet, she hoped she still knew him enough to know that inside he was probably feeling much like her, just minus the hangover. The last part was certainly the part that Sarreaha really hated the most. That in this meeting, she had to be the one at a disadvantage. Emotions were hard enough to wade through without a massive headache and queasy stomach to contend with on top of everything. How was this fair? How was any of it fair? She briefly shook her head to dislodge the unfavorable direction her thoughts were taking, only to realize that Devon was breaking the silence again. For a moment, that surprised her, that he was putting forth such effort.
“Erhm,” she paused, unsure of herself. Unsure of her stomach to be truthfully, yet coffee sounded like a good option in that moment. Something to help clear her head more, to help what the water was starting. “Coffee,” she conceded with a small nod, followed with a flinch of right eye as her brain protested the sudden action. The woman was tempted to watch the wizard as he moved into the small kitchenette portion of the room, but instead dropped her gaze back to the glass in her hand, still willing for it to give her just a little more peace of mind. She had no idea what to say or even where to begin. The woman was drained, both physically, mentally, and emotionally. She had no idea where the energy from last night went when she had ranted at the Unspeakable, probably gone with the moment, with the stress of holding onto it all. Truthfully, she just wanted to curl up into a small ball like a child.
The sounds of his movements lingered at the edge of her awareness while her senses began to pick up the beginnings of the coffee. Sarreaha remained wary as she waited to see if she’d be dashing into his bathroom or not; she could not quite predict the severity of her hangover until she found herself either face first in her bed or hugging her toilet. So while the brunette tried to rein her thoughts and stomach into order, she was once more surprised when Devon chose to take the lead. She blinked, a brow arching slightly of its own accord at the direction he chose. It felt like such a weighted questioned. What the hell could she respond with? How honest should she be? What did he even expected to her to say? Sarreaha still had no notion of Devon’s visions, so the healer could not know that anything she told him would be of little surprise. That he always had “feelers” out on her, even in her darkest moments. It really wasn’t fair.
Instead, she settled on a single word response. “Surviving.” It was really the best she could come up with, and if the two were inadvertently switching roles in that moment, he leading the conversations and she the quiet one, so be it.
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