And the skin you call your home holds a heart that quits
((OOC: Sorry for all the new posts this one is necessary though. -_-))
Robin Rice has finally made it back to the hotel. It took longer than he anticipated but his brain isn't exactly functioning at its peak at the moment. He has a large bottle of pills to take two times a day. They make it difficult to care about much though he can still manage a ( Read more... )
Robin Rice has finally made it back to the hotel. It took longer than he anticipated but his brain isn't exactly functioning at its peak at the moment. He has a large bottle of pills to take two times a day. They make it difficult to care about much though he can still manage a ( Read more... )
She glances sideways at him before staring at her feet again. Her heart is filled with a pang of helpless joy and a useless desire to hate. A blush spreads across her face heating every portion of her body almost as well as his hands do. And every sense of what is right in her tells her to stand, to run, to call him out on the steps of the church for what he really is. He wakes up every part of her simultaneously. Her chest is flooded with emotion, and her head feels dizzy.
She doesn't know what to say. Oh God. His hand on her throat- His lips against her skin- The heat and the fire and the ice and the pain. She doesn't know what to say.
"...why not?" The girl had meant it to sound defiant but it's not. It ends up sounding quiet, careful, unsure. Almost timid. Almost. And she's keeps stealing glances at him as she twists a strand of her hair between her fingers and locks her jaw with determination.
Every time she looks at him, she wants to be closer to him, and every time she wants that, her heart aches with self hatred which is a new emotion for her and she doesn't like the way that it sinks into the pit of her stomach and refuses to go away.
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The answer to Elizabeth's question at the moment seems laughable. Because it's not safe.
He asks something else instead. "What are you doing here?"
He has no idea why he's there.
(He ignores the twinge inside his stomach that let's him know otherwise.)
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"I don't- even sitting out here it feels nice, doesn't it? That people can still hope and feel warm good things even after everything else that happened. It's nice just to be near it," she says, swallowing and twisting that strand of hair a little more quickly as she sends a sideways look his way again.
Her heart aches. She wants to be closer. She wants to be so far away. Elizabeth swallows and slides across the step a little so that she's closer, not much closer but closer. It's better than sitting on the step alone. "I guess... I was asking forgiveness, too. I don't- I didn't really have anywhere else to be. The only place I wanted to go, I-" Elizabeth looks at him, directly at him, and something hot fills her face and her abdomen. "And I like the sound and the warmth. I like to- I like churches."
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It doesn't matter now.
"I would imagine those that seek peace would come here. Forgiveness is difficult to find. Peace of mind more so," is all he says, hands shoved into his pockets. He's never been hesitant, least of all in her company. She's the one that rambles but even her rambling in this case is different.
Josef steals a glance in her direction when he feels her own gaze.
"Do you want to be alone?"
Say no. Say yes. Forsake me. I no longer know.
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Elizabeth's heart jumps up in her throat when he looks at her, again. She can feel herself melt under his gaze still. Melt and tremble with fear and get filled with this horribly, painful desire to save him. Still. She can see the good in him when he looks at her like that. It has to be good. It's not the darkness that she's in love with. It's something else.
And then he asks her that and she has to look away again, swallowing thickly past the lump that gathers in her throat. "No."
She should say yes.
She should have said yes but she'd be lying.
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He is sitting next to her, he wants to fix what cannot be fixed, and already he is gone.
There isn't frenzied darkness to be found, not the kind she found on the day the firstborns came back. He's killed, you see, and now the demon's silent. Josef won't tell her about this. He seems to understand now no matter what he does or how it weighs on her, she won't leave. Why would he give her something else to plead forgiveness for?
"Okay." Josef sighs, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. He probably should have given her fair warning. She is scared now, despite the desire he still notices whenever she looks at him. I'm sorry for what I've done to you, anybody else would say. I am so, so sorry. Forgive me.
Not Josef.
"It's cold," he says. His hands and the whole of him are warm. But he is cold.
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"Yeah, it is. Really cold. Winter came like way before I was even prepared for it cause with the... the plagues and all. Sort of.. distracted me. And then I was all like woah hey! November's here! When'd... when did that happen? And stuff. Uhm. I don't... mind though. That it's cold. I like the cold. It's just- It's another part of life, and it gives me an excuse to get all warm with hot chocolate or- or something."
Elizabeth was hardly aware of the ramble on the edge of her tongue until it spilled out all next to him. Her heart feels all tense and shuddering still but her brains still desperate for a sense of normalcy here. With him. Something that reminds her that despite what he did to her, she's still herself even if she's these other parts, too.
"I'm..." She winces and bites her lip. No one else knows this. Of course, he's the first that she tells because it's all here in the front of her mind. Girl and angel and woman. And she can't forget or separate them enough to shut up her brain. "I moved out."
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"We can go get some hot chocolate, after you're done here. If you'd like." It's an innocuous statement, whispered against the top of her head. It's meant to sound harmless. Or more importantly, it's meant to let her know he doesn't mean to harm her. And no, of course she wouldn't mind the cold but he was born in fire.
I moved out.
He stiffens. "Elizabeth. Why?"
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Lord, have mercy. You who take away the sins of the world. Grant them peace.
She smiles despite herself (despite him) at the offer and twists her head to look up at him. Him. His face, his eyes. The only part of him that she doesn't love is what he does. "Yes. I... uhm... I think I'd like that. A lot. Thank you."
Stupid. Stupid. You're talking to a killer like he's just any crush that you could have, and he's- He's- Elizabeth is in love with him. It's not going to change. She knows that. She knows that. Why does she bother questioning it anymore? Why does she keep letting him tear her heart in three different directions?
Elizabeth stiffens he does, expecting that anger. She may have only had it directed at her once but the memory is intense enough that it's hard for her to forget. This is why she wasn't going to say anything. She wishes she hadn't.
"I don't belong there anymore," she insists, locking her jaw as an inner strength hits her. Teenage defiance fills her though she's not looking at him anymore. "And I don't need school either. It's not going to do me any good. I have... more important things to do, and my granny fell off the dementia wagon so most of the time she thinks I'm my mom anyway and doesn't know an Elizabeth. It'd probably be better for my dad if he thought I was dead. It's not like I didn't think about it."
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Josef finds no peace in the singing or the church. He recognizes the words, he's hearing the music, but there's nothing save for a dull aching in his chest because Elizabeth isn't quite the same. And that's on him.
Guilt tastes different on your tongue--it isn't just bitter, it's burning, and you can't swallow--when you actually give a fuck.
He doesn't know why he feels the need to protest so vehemently against what she's saying. Josef is rarely gets himself worked up, and he's trying not to appear agitated. He doesn't want to scare her off this time.
"Your calling isn't the only thing that makes you who you are. You were the one who told me that. I don't care about your grandmother, or your dad. I care about you. Where are you going to live? Where do you belong?"
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She blinks immediately as she realizes what's come out of her mouth and removes her gaze from his face like it could burn her if she looked too long. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You're so stupid. Her head hurts. Her heart hurts. Everything hurts but it'd hurt worse to pull away. She'd be cold and alone and left with all the residual feelings with no way to express them.
She closes her eyes when he says that.
"It's not. I stand by that," Elizabeth says, sounding impossibly old. "I'm still me." And someone else and someone else. "But I know what I have to do too, and I can't do that in my house, sitting through classes with subjects that have no relevance to my purpose. Not now. Not after the plagues." She doesn't say not after what you showed me. "I helped a family die. Half of them. They were eaten by a monster. Someone else was set on fire, burned to death. Every second of every day people are dying. It's not about me."
She swallows past the sudden lump in her throat that makes her fingers tremble so she presses herself closer to him, to the warmth of his body, and pulls her face back to show that she is strong. She is determined. This is what will happen.
"I'm living at the Conrad. Right now. I have a room there. It's free," Elizabeth says and then shakes her head. "I don't know where I belong. If anywhere. But I'm- I have to do this."
In order to live with her decision to keep silent, she has to do it.
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He genuinely does not know what to do. He's never stuck around long enough for this. The aftermath of his confessions, the consequences of his own actions.
It isn't taking a toll on him, but it's taking a toll on her and he can tell with every word and every gesture and every glance his way before she averts it.
Does he make her sick? She should. But the thought still sends an uncomfortable jolt to his stomach, as if he's been momentarily punched in it.
"Okay."
That's all he says.
"Your life, your call."
He's tired again, as if he's been running for hours and he didn't get anywhere.
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She doesn't understand at all but she's afraid to ask. She's afraid of what he'll say or what he won't say or that he'll try to shove her away again if she insists that she loves him.
Elizabeth relaxes when he relents though. It's all she needs to hear. There's nothing that he could have said to change her mind. Well. She doesn't think so but a part of her knows that she'll always take what he says with more importance and more meaning than what everyone else says. She cares what he thinks about her.
"Yes, it is. Thank you... for taking me seriously. Anyway. I guess that's why I could tell you when I haven't told anybody else," she says and even manages a small smile though it doesn't fit her emotions at all. "I'd still like to-" Come over to your apartment sometime. Elizabeth looks at him. In a way, it's asking what he thinks of her, what she means to him. She'd rather show up and be turned away than try to work through asking him permission.
Her gaze returns to his lips again, and she swallows thickly past waves of emotion and the heat that fills her. "Uhm." Elizabeth bites her lip and swallows again. She's so close to him, so close to everything that is him. Good and bad and heat. "Do you- do you want to get that hot chocolate now? I don't- I think I've... I'm done here."
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Done to her.
Will keep doing to her because he doesn't understand her way. Only his. Always his.
"I'd like that, too. You can come over whenever you need to."
He careens her face gently toward his, thumb angling her chin upward. Josef catches her mouth swiftly with his own, molding their lips together before smirking into her skin. "Lead the way, Sparky."
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She still believes that if she lives as an example next to his darkness and if she can show him that she loves him and that love is unconditional... that maybe... Maybe it's how he'll finally be able to see and to understand.
There's too much hope in her to be torn away so easily.
"Really? Oh okay. Thank you. I'm- uhm. I like it at your place," she says though her breath caught in her throat a little when he somehow knew what she was asking without her really spelling it out in words for him. She promises herself that she won't come over too often. It would be bad if she did, bad for her. She has to keep some perspective. Once a week. Maybe. Is that too much? Too little?
Her heart flutters and melts like its been turned into lava running down her ribs into the pit of her when he touches her chin and kisses her, again. It's just like before. Oh, God. Despite the choking, despite what she knows, the kiss is exactly the same. It does the exact same thing to her and nothing in her life makes her feel like she did before the knowledge, before the plagues. It's good that she's leaning against him because her body almost loses the strength to remain upright with his lips against hers, as brief as the contact may be.
Elizabeth swallows with difficulty for another reason this time. It's not tears or sadness rising up in her. It's desire and want. Her face is a deep red, and there's a dazed, loving smile on it as if all darkness, all change, all tension has been temporarily erased.
"Okay," she says, still smiling as she trips up to a stand on the steps almost falling down with hands trembling at her side from that miserably, intense want that's filled her all over. "I think there's a building still standing and serving. A couple of blocks from here. It's... on the way to your place."
It's her attempt to be a little sly, and she has that look on her face even as her thoughts start to race again. No, no, no stupid bad. He's bad. He kills. He could have a body waiting there to kill. All the more reason for her to go. His darkness will infect you. No, but light is stronger than dark. She'll show him. She will. The smile should be gone though. She shouldn't be smiling at the feel of his lips against hers. It's wrong. It's all wrong and all right and all she (she as a woman, not as an angel, not as a responsibility, not for someone else) wants.
Well, he said she could come over whenever she needed too. Maybe she needs to tonight.
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He still wants her to leave.
He still wants her to stay.
He's split in half when she's close by and the demon is in a room where the door is closed shut, and there's only the meeting of skin, a tango in their lips, and the promise of something more.
Josef never really thinks much about his place. If she's there though, if the loneliness is clawed out it's easier to bear the memories within the walls, the blood that's been spilled that she still doesn't know of and couldn't possibly understand.
Blood is thicker than water and hatred is thicker than both.
All I know.
All I know.
"I see what you did there," he whispers into her ear as he tries catching her when she trips. He loops an arm around her shoulders and starts to walk toward their destination.
They'll end up back in his place.
Maybe he needs that tonight.
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