calmbeforethe | 00 . appointments

00 . appointments

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[She is quiet herself, for several moments. There were many things she could say. Truly, she felt bad that they now found themselves in this situation. Spencer was a decent man, and she quite liked their friendship. That it could be damaged irreparably now, because of this, upsets her more than she cared to admit.

After some time, she speaks up: voice soft and contrite.]

Truly, Captain, I am sorry. I wish... [How was she supposed to say, that she wishes they could stay friends but, knowing what they did and knowing what she knows now, it was not possible?] I wish things were different, but... [She trails off, uncertain as to how to continue.]

What’s done is done; there’s no changing that no matter how much you and I would want to. [He pauses, as if to better allow the remark to sink in as much for himself as for her. His tone is gentle albeit firm.] You can’t blame yourself for this.

[Yet he can't let himself off easy, wanting to believe that there had been a choice, the smallest chance for him to have resisted the Malnosso influence and overcome it. So long as he lived and breathed, he refused to (easily) accept the idea that he was completely powerless against them. Alas, this has only been his very first shift-related experience.]

[She shakes her head wryly. Spencer was not her only strange run-in that week. With Logan, at least, that had been brewing for quite a while. Possibly even years, but that was another story. She'd shared something almost intimate with the one called Ganondorf, but they had managed to rein themselves in somehow, resisted the sudden temptations planted by the Malnosso.

Why had she not been able to do the same in this case?]

How can you say that when I was the one who came onto you? [She pauses, hesitating, before she adds, a little more formally:] And I understand completely, Captain, should you not want anything more to do with me. After what happened, intentional or not. [And that was the true, wasn't it? She liked to think, before this, that they could be good friends. Was that a lost cause, now?

It was his call, she decided.]

[Anger shoots through him like a drink of something too strong, words slipping out unfiltered.] And what I did was any better? I gave you my consent and didn’t give a damn about anything else except--

[He breaks off with a frustrated sigh. A moment is needed to rein in his emotions, neatly packing them away into a tight little box and pushing it deep down, willing away the memory of the feline-like curve of her spine, the look of her face in rapture.

She is not his enemy here nor is she a stranger and it’d be unfair to treat her as either. Unfair, but easy to let her become the latter as if it could change what was now in the past. Yet they know too much now to pretend they didn’t.

It's silent on his end but he's still there with the journal spread on his desk, at loss for words as a captain and as a man and annoyed by the fact that he didn't have an immediate answer. A solution. Time couldn’t erase but, at least, it could soften the bitter edge of the hurt.]

[Ororo sighs on her end as well, quiet and a little resigned. She isn't sure what she should say, either. This was not a situation she thought she would ever find herself in. But memories that could have and would have been sweet and wonderful to revisit were now laced with a hint of bitterness at the quandary they'd found themselves in.]

... My apologies. I didn't mean to anger you. It's just... [She shakes her head helplessly, and her voice softens.] I can't help but feel sorry that this happened. I suppose... I am just a little afraid for what this means for us as friends.

[At her calm acknowledgement of his outburst, he feels a near-immediate pang of regret and takes a moment to collect himself, pulling in a slow, quiet breath. God. That she fears for their friendship, that she values his company more than he had realized makes something deep in his chest pull with a sharp twinge of emotion. He feels it’d almost have been better had she snarled at him and spat at his attempts at communication; at least then it’d be easier to forget the near-overwhelming tenderness shared, the fierce ache of want and need, and the sense of peace and fulfillment when these voids had been filled in a moment all too bittersweet.]

…It’s not you. [A shake of his head. He can't resent her for this. He can't.] I think we just... we need some time to work this out. Let it sit for a while.

[He can't say he knows what will become of their friendship, but they'll see where the future takes them - or where it won't.]

Edited 2013-03-15 16:54 (UTC)

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00 . appointments

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