ALEX+RAVI; in which alex evolves into dickasaurus rex
Who: Alexander & Ravindra
When: 10/7 Friday morning
Where: Ravi's house
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for swearing and Alex making a right ass of himself??
Ravi didn't wake up until early Friday morning. He tried to fall back asleep, because he felt like hell and if he was going to feel like hell he'd rather just sleep through it, but he was eventually forced to concede because he was thirsty and starving and his body wouldn't let him ignore its needs.
He fell trying to get out of bed and was reminded very suddenly of his dislocated shoulder and general state of being. He raised his hand to his neck, where the dull ache of two scabbed-over puncture wounds made him remember what had happened. Was Alex still here? He looked to the door, though it was shut and Alex wasn't in the room. Ravi wanted him to be here, but at the same time, the idea of facing him after that was terrifying. He didn't think Alex would attack him again, but then, he hadn't thought Alex would attack him the first time, either.
He picked himself up, very slowly this time, careful to hold himself up through the dizzy spell that came with it. He got dressed, tried to make himself look presentable. Didn't try very hard because he decided he'd rather not try to deal with shaving right now and left the three-day growth alone.
Before he went to the door, he took one of the dozens of scarves from his shelf (passed over any that had red in them, picked up the grey and black striped one instead) and tied it around his neck to hide the bite. So Alex wouldn't have to look at it, and Ravi wouldn't have to remember it.
He left his room and headed for the kitchen, left hand against the wall. He hoped Alex was in there, because he didn't want to have to make his own breakfast. Of all the things to miss about Sofie, having somebody else to cook when he didn't feel like it.
Coins were a terrible inconvenience to a vampire without a home. Unlike his clothes, other belongings did not transform with him when he turned into a bat -- though Alex was grateful that he didn't have to worry about carrying a set of clothes. He'd returned to Willow Street, prying open a certain floorboard to access the income he had built up from lighting lamps. It was meager, but it would do for his intentions. He used some of it to purchase another bottle of wine (Ravi was out) and, though he was tempted to buy bread and cheese for Ravi once he awoke (because he would awaken), he didn't know when he would wake up, and so refrained on the bread.
The items were sitting next to his coin sack on the kitchen table, only a few inches away from his arms, which were supporting his head. Alex had gone out to hunt again during the night and again, he'd made a glutton of himself to ensure that he would never look at Ravi like that, both for Ravi's safety and, more selfishly, in the hopes that he wouldn't be as scared of him as he otherwise might be. His coloring was such that he looked as if he hadn't died at all-- his hair back to the deep reds it'd had been, skin pink and healthy. He was sleeping. If he wasn't concerned about Ravi waking up and feeling threatened, he would have slept in his room instead, to be closer in case anything else happened.
Ravi stopped in the doorway, just looking at Alex for a moment. It was strange to see those red curls again, after seeing them faded for so long. It was like looking into the past. It also reminded him of watching Amelia ride off, her red hair glinting in the sunlight as she waved back to him for the last time. His heart ached. He tore his eyes away from Alex and went to get a glass of water.
It disappeared quickly, along with a second. Who knew losing so much blood and then sleeping for a day and half made you so thirsty? Feeling a bit more clearheaded now, he glanced to Alex again, and then to the window. The sun was a problem, wasn't it? Ravi walked over to close it, and then, finally, took a seat across the table from Alex. He was going to try to pretend everything was normal, he decided.
The scratch of the chair's legs against the floor rose him from his nap. He went through that brief period of sleep and non-sleep, his fingers relaxing, before coming to full consciousness with a start.
If there was something above him he surely would have hit his head with how quickly he lifted it. "Vin!" he exclaimed, voice hoarse with sleep, seeing the shape of Ravi first. The scarf pulled his attention in and Alex shut his mouth tight. Would it be worse to see it? Was it worse for Ravi to try and hide it from him? He didn't know.
"How are you?" he asked, this time more subdued.
The volume, the force of the exclamation gave him a start, and he stared at Alex for a moment, his mind blank but knowing there was probably something he was supposed to be doing. It kicked back into gear only after the question.
"...Hungry," he answered, honestly. Unspoken: make me something, don't make me ask for it. He glanced away, nervously adjusting the scarf with one hand.
His eyes fell to the motion again. "Here," he said, untying the knot on the clothed cheese and pushing it towards him. "I didn't know when you'd wake, so I didn't get anything else. The market opens soon, doesn't it?"
It was obvious now that Sofie was absent. He wanted to ask, but thought that perhaps now was not the best time.
Well it wasn't exactly a meal, but he was hungry enough not to care. No, that's not true, he did care, but he was hungry enough to eat it anyway. "I think so," he answered, between bites. How high had the sun been when he'd closed the window? He hadn't thought to check. "But, the sun?" he asked. His right hand twitched in his lap, itching to adjust the scarf again, but that single twitch was enough to remind him that his shoulder was not taking kindly to idle motions.
His brows rose. "What of it?"
"...It is not a problem for you?" Shit, he was sure he'd heard that somewhere. Was he wrong? Now he felt stupid for having brought it up, ugh, he'd probably gotten his mythologies mixed up. "Never mind," he mumbled, looking away.
He slid his elbow onto the table and rested his chin in his palm. "I kept to the night because it was easier to conceal myself," he explained, feeling a twinge of pity and guilt. After a pause, he asked, "How is it? Does it hurt?" He glanced at Ravi's shoulder. He'd remembered after his fuck-up that Ravi had injured one of his shoulders. He couldn't remember if he'd said which, and he didn't have his ledger to check. "That, and this," he added, lightly tapping the crook of his own neck with two fingers.
"Ah." Well, never mind then. He shouldn't have brought it up.
He misinterpreted the question as referring to the bite and he was, for a moment, unable to think of a response, just staring at Alex like a stunned deer. He'd rather just forget that had happened. He didn't want to talk about it.
And then Alex tapped his neck and Ravi realized he hadn't been asking about it, but now he was. He looked away, his hand covering the spot, pressing his scarf against the wound. "No," he lied. It didn't hurt so much that he couldn't ignore it. "My arm is worse." Which was true, at least.
Ravi's stunned look shoved the nail of guilt deeper into his heart. It hurt. He knew why Ravi looked at him that way, but it still--hurt.
"I never meant to," he found himself saying, brows scrunching, upset. "That wasn't-- that wasn't me." It was important that Ravi understand this. Alex had to make him understand. He didn't plan it, he didn't mean it, it just -- happened. Ravi couldn't be afraid of him.
Ravi wasn't afraid, but...wary. Wary was the right word for it. Even if it was something Alex hadn't meant to do, something he hadn't been in control of, what was to say he wouldn't lose that control again? "I don't--" care, but he did. "It's--" fine, but it wasn't. He stared at the table for a minute, focused on the wood grain, trying to come up with something to say. It would be so much easier if his thoughts weren't running so sluggishly--but, then, that was Alex's fault, wasn't it? Blood loss did that.
His staggering words only made Alex more upset. His hand fell to the table, his shoulders straightening. "I'm not-- I'm not like the stories," he said with desperate insistence. "I don't eat people. I eat animals, just like you. I--" Sitting was too still. Alex shoved off the chair, running his hand through his hair restlessly as he began to pace.
"That was different. I wasn't right," he continued, reflecting on how everything had seemingly gone to shit in forty-eight hours. "Cita, Amelia, I was trying to get here as quickly as possible-- Rayna, she was going to die, I had to, to--" He stopped, successfully worked himself into a tizzy, and looked down at Ravi across the floor, the table. "I've never gotten that low before, Vin, it's not normal. It won't happen again."
'I eat animals, just like you.' He knew what Alex was saying, but he couldn't help hearing it wrong. 'Like you are', instead of 'like you do.' He flinched when the chair scraped back, subtle, but noticeable.
He looked up, watching while Alex paced and rambled. He listened, but it felt like...it felt like listening to a husband make excuses for going to far, for putting his wife in the hospice and then saying it wasn't like him, he didn't mean it. Ravi couldn't shake the comparison. The more Alex tried to explain himself, the wronger it felt.
"Stop," he said, finally. He couldn't meet Alex's eyes, but he at least tried to look in his direction, focused on his shirt. "I understand. I don't hate you." Never could. It could happen a million times and Ravi would never be able to bring himself to hate him.
But he also knew that promises, saying 'it won't happen again,' were empty. The same situation could arise any number of ways, and Ravi wasn't stupid for being wary. How low would Alex have to be next time? How long until he misjudged?
He flinched at Ravi's command. He knew that Ravi didn't hate him, but did Ravi forgive him? That was really fucking important. Alex wanted Ravi to be trusting enough of him to forgive him, but if-- if their roles were reversed--
He would forgive Ravi, he would.
... But the trust.
Alex spun on his feet, slamming his hand against the counter in distress. He couldn't see exactly where Ravi was coming from, but he could guess enough of it to know Ravi was justified in his caution against him. It only furthered his frustration, and when once he could have released his anxiety and anger through violence together now he could not, not when he had threatened Ravi's life. Regardless of whether or not he meant to, it didn't change the fact that he had.
"Shit!" he hissed, the curse accompanied by another slam. He turned back only enough to snatch his coin bag, making an effort to avoid looking at Ravi at all, and headed for the door with long, angry strides. It was unfair, it was dumb and counter-productive, but he couldn't stand to look at the Ravi who looked at him like a threat, like something unpredictable.
He was leaving, storming out. Panic tightened in Ravi's chest. Even if he was wary, Alex was still his best friend, and he didn't want to be alone right now. He needed somebody here.
He couldn't react fast enough, only took one step before he had to catch himself against the table and wait for the room to stop spinning. He couldn't catch Alex on his way out. "Alex, wait!" he called out, a desperate plea. "Don't go."
"No!" he snarled, coming to a sudden stop in front of the door. He glared at it, nostrils flaring and shoulders tight, and paused before responding because he really wanted to get physical right then. Ravi didn't understand. He had to leave or he was going to break something.
"I'm getting you food," he ground out, barely containing the tremble in his voice. Then he twisted the door knob and let himself out, taking caution to keep the door from slamming behind him. He promptly kicked a rock afterwards. And then kicked the lamp right outside. (So much for not making a commotion.)
He sank into the chair as the door clicked shut. What had he said to make Alex so angry?
He'd be back, if he really was getting food. Wouldn't he? Maybe he'd blow off some steam first, get in a fight or beat up a wall, but then he'd come back and Ravi could apologize for whatever he'd said to upset him. He just had to wait.
He turned away from the door, slumped against the back of his chair. Waiting. It would feel like forever because he was just alone with his thoughts, and they weren't thoughts he wanted to listen to. His eyes fell on the wine Alex had bought to replace what he'd poured out. He reached for it, and settled in to wait.
If someone recognized him as either Alexander or the dude who used to light lamps and wasn't your hair just a bit lighter he didn't notice. It was difficult, because he had no one to brawl with that wouldn't take it personally, and he wasn't particularly keen on getting into trouble with the Guard. This was when the privacy of one's own home would prove useful, but he didn't have one, and Willow Street wasn't close enough to be a plausible option.
He walked towards the market with brisk steps, trying to burn out the anger that way. It was unsatisfying, but what else could he do? He'd passed the Citadel on the way over and paused to silently curse it, curse it for summoning the root of all his current problems. He'd never seen the intelligence in worshiping a girl for her hair. What kind of merit was that? He thought of the girl Isley and how she'd abhorred him in the ledgers, such a dramatic turn-around from the timid girl he'd walked with once before. He wondered, perhaps, if her hatred was justified. In his case, it was that she hated what he was, not who he was, and while that normally would have been cause for a great eye-roll, in the wake of his dilemma with Ravi, it caused him a bit more consideration.
Well, that did nothing to improve his mood. He set off for the market with a scowl. There, he was hardly willing to agitate himself further with haggling and made his purchases half-heartedly. It was close to two hours later when Alex returned, rapping his knuckles against the front door. He wasn't pleased with himself or the situation, but at least he wasn't so keyed up now. Truthfully, some dread had crept into his throat, wary of how Ravi was now.
Ravi had, at some point, moved to his chair in the living room, and was staring off at the fireplace, brooding. The more he drank, it seemed, the clearer things got. He had no reason to apologize to Alex. He hadn't done anything wrong. Alex was the one who'd lost control, Alex was the one with something to make up for. No right to be angry. No right to storm off the way he had.
The knock registered in his mind long after it had passed, and he dragged himself up from the shadows of his thoughts to call out, "It's not locked." That was Alex now. Probably. Took him long enough. Ravi watched the door, slouched haphazardly in his chair, and waited for Alex to open it.
It was nice, how liberal an invitation was. The door clicked with its usual volume behind him. He flicked a glance at Ravi, slouching in his chair. His nose wrinkled as the scent of wine assaulted him. Ah. This would be pleasant.
He dropped off the purchases onto the kitchen table, took a pause there and a deep breath, then re-entered the living room. He took another pause behind Ravi's chair, resting his wrist on the top of the backrest and running his tongue behind his teeth, looking down and then to the side. "I'm sorry about that," he said, voice neutral. "Getting angry. I've no right."
He waited, following Alex with his eyes as he moved through the house. He'd talked himself up, told himself that if he didn't get an apology he was done, but then--it came. He'd wanted an apology, and he got one.
It threw him off. He was ready to be furious, but he had no reason now. All his anger was defused, just like that. His expression softened, and he took a moment to formulate a response. "It's all right," he said. Accepting apologies was still one of those awkward things he never quite knew if he was doing right, but that seemed good enough.
But he didn't know what to say after that. He'd been thrown so far off track by the unexpected apology that he didn't know where to go next.
Alex had often found little difficulty in revealing his fears to others. What was the point in keeping them locked up? They would overtake you, rule you. Often they were irrational, and sharing them with another's point of view would quickly expose the fact. Yet Alex found his throat tightening in hesitation as he considered his next words -- perhaps because this fear was too possible.
"I'm scared, honestly," he said, again trying to keep his tone neutral. "Of what I did. Of losing you. You're alive -- here -- and for that I'm more thankful than you could ever imagine. But." He pinched the fabric of the chair, rubbing it between his fingers. "I know I've lost some of your trust. I don't want to lose anymore of it."
He'd always admired Alex's ability to say what he was feeling. He never could. It helped to know how Alex felt, to know that he was afraid, that he cared, what he wanted. Why couldn't Ravi ever do that? It made things so much easier.
He twisted in the chair, turning sideways, laying his left arm across the back of it, careful to avoid brushing against Alex's hand. "I thought about this," he said, his accent coming through thick under the drink. "I thought about it--it is dharma. You are a vampire now, so you have a vampire's dharma. You do what a vampire is supposed to do, and if you do not, you are fighting your dharma. And what happened--it was karma, balancing, probably for all those times I punched you and you never hit me back--there are a lot, yes? But anyway, vampire dharma. I still can trust you but only when you are strong enough to fight it."
Ravi's explanation threw him for a loop, quite honestly. Of all the things for him to say, attributing his action of carnality to dharma was one of the lowest options Alex would have imagined -- so low the possibility hadn't even crossed his mind.
He shouldn't have been so surprised, though. Ravi had a thing about his dharma and karma, a thing he had tried to explain and finally considered Alex a lost cause when he'd just shrug his shoulders and smile in guiltless incomprehension.
His knee-jerk response was that it wasn't dharma, it was the simple fucking drive of every living thing ever to survive. He also wanted to point out that none of his punches had ever threatened Alex's life, but he kept his mouth shut. If this was how Ravi needed to look at the situation, then that was fine.
"That bottle was for cleaning, not consumption," he chided softly, a small smile spreading on his lips.
"Karma," he replied. "You used half my drinking wine for cleaning, so I took it back. Balance."
His breath caught in his throat, and then his head dipped down as a stream of laughter left him. Ravi's insistence on dharma and karma were amusing, but it was the relief of closure that was responsible for the bulk of his sudden mirth. He patted the chair and straightened. "I'll fix you something to eat."
He smiled. It was nice to see Alex laugh. Things were going to be all right. He'd just...stay away from Alex when his colours were faded, and everything would be fine.
"Wait." He caught Alex's sleeve, even though he wasn't leaving yet. "Will you stay with me?" he asked. He'd meant to ask it in a more neutral sounding way, something that didn't come across as 'I am desperately lonely with the empty house and being taken off duty for two weeks,' but trying to cover it up and rephrase it would only draw attention to it.
"Mm?" He looked at Ravi with curious eyes. He'd said something of similar effect before. Not to leave. "Sure. 'Til when?"
"Forever." NO. WAIT. THAT WAS STUPID. "No, not--I mean--Sofia, she is gone," he explained. Except he didn't actually explain, because that was all he said about it.
His brows could be compared to the slow sail of balloons rising into the air. "I gathered as much," he said at length, one brow settling higher than the other, the corner of his mouth quirked up in the kind of smile that arises when you're not really sure what's going down. "Did she go with Amelia?"
He probably should have been proud of how he'd been able to say that without grimacing, but it reminded him of his loss regardless.
He shook his head. "Poland. To visit her family. But she won't come back, I think. Or at least, not until Amelia does. She only put up with me for Amelia's sake." It was a fact and he presented it as one, with no anger or bitterness behind it. The alcohol helped. It always made it easier for him to talk plainly.
"Ah." There wasn't much he could say about that. The surprise was in how far she had gone (Poland was far, wasn't it? Alex was shit at geography.), not that she had gone, and not that she had gone now. Now he understood that Ravi meant for him to live with him. That was a little odd, honestly. Men didn't really live together unless they were relatives, but the house really was too big for one person and having a permanent place to return to was a comfort Alex was beginning to miss.
"I would have thought you'd be elated to be by yourself," he said, smirking faintly. He pulled his arm away to fall to his side.
He didn't even realize he hadn't let go of Alex's arm yet until Alex pulled away. Awkward. He pulled his arm down from the back of the chair. "I thought so too," he said, "but it is lonely without you around." A double-edged sword, this speaking plainly thing. He never would've said that sober. "Even if you are a vampire," he added, a poor attempt to cover the awkwardness that probably only made it more awkward.
Yeah, that was pretty awkward. The Ravi of now was playing against the Ravi Alex knew eighteen years ago, and even though he had pretty much melded the both of them together there were still a few loose seams, and the present Ravi's occasional softness was one of them. The Ravi he'd known before dying would have never admitted to something so vulnerable.
"Thanks?" he tried, but it had already passed into that awkward time to respond zone, making it pretty obvious that even Alex had felt something amiss.
...Hm, yup, unsalvageable. The only response for this was a subject change. He'd probably remember having said that and he'd regret the hell out of it later. He thought about it for a moment before remembering that, actually, he was still pretty goddamn hungry. "Sorry, you were going to make breakfast? I did not mean to stop you so long."
A silent laugh. "Yes, I'll go do that." It wasn't awkward enough to mull over it -- there were other, more important things like Rayna, himself and his siblings in Blomgren to occupy his attention with. And, of course, almost killing Ravi. Just because they'd 'made-up' about it didn't mean he was done thinking about it, even if he'd wished otherwise.
He went into the kitchen, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. He'd go back to sleep after Ravi had eaten.
When: 10/7 Friday morning
Where: Ravi's house
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for swearing and Alex making a right ass of himself??
Ravi didn't wake up until early Friday morning. He tried to fall back asleep, because he felt like hell and if he was going to feel like hell he'd rather just sleep through it, but he was eventually forced to concede because he was thirsty and starving and his body wouldn't let him ignore its needs.
He fell trying to get out of bed and was reminded very suddenly of his dislocated shoulder and general state of being. He raised his hand to his neck, where the dull ache of two scabbed-over puncture wounds made him remember what had happened. Was Alex still here? He looked to the door, though it was shut and Alex wasn't in the room. Ravi wanted him to be here, but at the same time, the idea of facing him after that was terrifying. He didn't think Alex would attack him again, but then, he hadn't thought Alex would attack him the first time, either.
He picked himself up, very slowly this time, careful to hold himself up through the dizzy spell that came with it. He got dressed, tried to make himself look presentable. Didn't try very hard because he decided he'd rather not try to deal with shaving right now and left the three-day growth alone.
Before he went to the door, he took one of the dozens of scarves from his shelf (passed over any that had red in them, picked up the grey and black striped one instead) and tied it around his neck to hide the bite. So Alex wouldn't have to look at it, and Ravi wouldn't have to remember it.
He left his room and headed for the kitchen, left hand against the wall. He hoped Alex was in there, because he didn't want to have to make his own breakfast. Of all the things to miss about Sofie, having somebody else to cook when he didn't feel like it.
Coins were a terrible inconvenience to a vampire without a home. Unlike his clothes, other belongings did not transform with him when he turned into a bat -- though Alex was grateful that he didn't have to worry about carrying a set of clothes. He'd returned to Willow Street, prying open a certain floorboard to access the income he had built up from lighting lamps. It was meager, but it would do for his intentions. He used some of it to purchase another bottle of wine (Ravi was out) and, though he was tempted to buy bread and cheese for Ravi once he awoke (because he would awaken), he didn't know when he would wake up, and so refrained on the bread.
The items were sitting next to his coin sack on the kitchen table, only a few inches away from his arms, which were supporting his head. Alex had gone out to hunt again during the night and again, he'd made a glutton of himself to ensure that he would never look at Ravi like that, both for Ravi's safety and, more selfishly, in the hopes that he wouldn't be as scared of him as he otherwise might be. His coloring was such that he looked as if he hadn't died at all-- his hair back to the deep reds it'd had been, skin pink and healthy. He was sleeping. If he wasn't concerned about Ravi waking up and feeling threatened, he would have slept in his room instead, to be closer in case anything else happened.
Ravi stopped in the doorway, just looking at Alex for a moment. It was strange to see those red curls again, after seeing them faded for so long. It was like looking into the past. It also reminded him of watching Amelia ride off, her red hair glinting in the sunlight as she waved back to him for the last time. His heart ached. He tore his eyes away from Alex and went to get a glass of water.
It disappeared quickly, along with a second. Who knew losing so much blood and then sleeping for a day and half made you so thirsty? Feeling a bit more clearheaded now, he glanced to Alex again, and then to the window. The sun was a problem, wasn't it? Ravi walked over to close it, and then, finally, took a seat across the table from Alex. He was going to try to pretend everything was normal, he decided.
The scratch of the chair's legs against the floor rose him from his nap. He went through that brief period of sleep and non-sleep, his fingers relaxing, before coming to full consciousness with a start.
If there was something above him he surely would have hit his head with how quickly he lifted it. "Vin!" he exclaimed, voice hoarse with sleep, seeing the shape of Ravi first. The scarf pulled his attention in and Alex shut his mouth tight. Would it be worse to see it? Was it worse for Ravi to try and hide it from him? He didn't know.
"How are you?" he asked, this time more subdued.
The volume, the force of the exclamation gave him a start, and he stared at Alex for a moment, his mind blank but knowing there was probably something he was supposed to be doing. It kicked back into gear only after the question.
"...Hungry," he answered, honestly. Unspoken: make me something, don't make me ask for it. He glanced away, nervously adjusting the scarf with one hand.
His eyes fell to the motion again. "Here," he said, untying the knot on the clothed cheese and pushing it towards him. "I didn't know when you'd wake, so I didn't get anything else. The market opens soon, doesn't it?"
It was obvious now that Sofie was absent. He wanted to ask, but thought that perhaps now was not the best time.
Well it wasn't exactly a meal, but he was hungry enough not to care. No, that's not true, he did care, but he was hungry enough to eat it anyway. "I think so," he answered, between bites. How high had the sun been when he'd closed the window? He hadn't thought to check. "But, the sun?" he asked. His right hand twitched in his lap, itching to adjust the scarf again, but that single twitch was enough to remind him that his shoulder was not taking kindly to idle motions.
His brows rose. "What of it?"
"...It is not a problem for you?" Shit, he was sure he'd heard that somewhere. Was he wrong? Now he felt stupid for having brought it up, ugh, he'd probably gotten his mythologies mixed up. "Never mind," he mumbled, looking away.
He slid his elbow onto the table and rested his chin in his palm. "I kept to the night because it was easier to conceal myself," he explained, feeling a twinge of pity and guilt. After a pause, he asked, "How is it? Does it hurt?" He glanced at Ravi's shoulder. He'd remembered after his fuck-up that Ravi had injured one of his shoulders. He couldn't remember if he'd said which, and he didn't have his ledger to check. "That, and this," he added, lightly tapping the crook of his own neck with two fingers.
"Ah." Well, never mind then. He shouldn't have brought it up.
He misinterpreted the question as referring to the bite and he was, for a moment, unable to think of a response, just staring at Alex like a stunned deer. He'd rather just forget that had happened. He didn't want to talk about it.
And then Alex tapped his neck and Ravi realized he hadn't been asking about it, but now he was. He looked away, his hand covering the spot, pressing his scarf against the wound. "No," he lied. It didn't hurt so much that he couldn't ignore it. "My arm is worse." Which was true, at least.
Ravi's stunned look shoved the nail of guilt deeper into his heart. It hurt. He knew why Ravi looked at him that way, but it still--hurt.
"I never meant to," he found himself saying, brows scrunching, upset. "That wasn't-- that wasn't me." It was important that Ravi understand this. Alex had to make him understand. He didn't plan it, he didn't mean it, it just -- happened. Ravi couldn't be afraid of him.
Ravi wasn't afraid, but...wary. Wary was the right word for it. Even if it was something Alex hadn't meant to do, something he hadn't been in control of, what was to say he wouldn't lose that control again? "I don't--" care, but he did. "It's--" fine, but it wasn't. He stared at the table for a minute, focused on the wood grain, trying to come up with something to say. It would be so much easier if his thoughts weren't running so sluggishly--but, then, that was Alex's fault, wasn't it? Blood loss did that.
His staggering words only made Alex more upset. His hand fell to the table, his shoulders straightening. "I'm not-- I'm not like the stories," he said with desperate insistence. "I don't eat people. I eat animals, just like you. I--" Sitting was too still. Alex shoved off the chair, running his hand through his hair restlessly as he began to pace.
"That was different. I wasn't right," he continued, reflecting on how everything had seemingly gone to shit in forty-eight hours. "Cita, Amelia, I was trying to get here as quickly as possible-- Rayna, she was going to die, I had to, to--" He stopped, successfully worked himself into a tizzy, and looked down at Ravi across the floor, the table. "I've never gotten that low before, Vin, it's not normal. It won't happen again."
'I eat animals, just like you.' He knew what Alex was saying, but he couldn't help hearing it wrong. 'Like you are', instead of 'like you do.' He flinched when the chair scraped back, subtle, but noticeable.
He looked up, watching while Alex paced and rambled. He listened, but it felt like...it felt like listening to a husband make excuses for going to far, for putting his wife in the hospice and then saying it wasn't like him, he didn't mean it. Ravi couldn't shake the comparison. The more Alex tried to explain himself, the wronger it felt.
"Stop," he said, finally. He couldn't meet Alex's eyes, but he at least tried to look in his direction, focused on his shirt. "I understand. I don't hate you." Never could. It could happen a million times and Ravi would never be able to bring himself to hate him.
But he also knew that promises, saying 'it won't happen again,' were empty. The same situation could arise any number of ways, and Ravi wasn't stupid for being wary. How low would Alex have to be next time? How long until he misjudged?
He flinched at Ravi's command. He knew that Ravi didn't hate him, but did Ravi forgive him? That was really fucking important. Alex wanted Ravi to be trusting enough of him to forgive him, but if-- if their roles were reversed--
He would forgive Ravi, he would.
... But the trust.
Alex spun on his feet, slamming his hand against the counter in distress. He couldn't see exactly where Ravi was coming from, but he could guess enough of it to know Ravi was justified in his caution against him. It only furthered his frustration, and when once he could have released his anxiety and anger through violence together now he could not, not when he had threatened Ravi's life. Regardless of whether or not he meant to, it didn't change the fact that he had.
"Shit!" he hissed, the curse accompanied by another slam. He turned back only enough to snatch his coin bag, making an effort to avoid looking at Ravi at all, and headed for the door with long, angry strides. It was unfair, it was dumb and counter-productive, but he couldn't stand to look at the Ravi who looked at him like a threat, like something unpredictable.
He was leaving, storming out. Panic tightened in Ravi's chest. Even if he was wary, Alex was still his best friend, and he didn't want to be alone right now. He needed somebody here.
He couldn't react fast enough, only took one step before he had to catch himself against the table and wait for the room to stop spinning. He couldn't catch Alex on his way out. "Alex, wait!" he called out, a desperate plea. "Don't go."
"No!" he snarled, coming to a sudden stop in front of the door. He glared at it, nostrils flaring and shoulders tight, and paused before responding because he really wanted to get physical right then. Ravi didn't understand. He had to leave or he was going to break something.
"I'm getting you food," he ground out, barely containing the tremble in his voice. Then he twisted the door knob and let himself out, taking caution to keep the door from slamming behind him. He promptly kicked a rock afterwards. And then kicked the lamp right outside. (So much for not making a commotion.)
He sank into the chair as the door clicked shut. What had he said to make Alex so angry?
He'd be back, if he really was getting food. Wouldn't he? Maybe he'd blow off some steam first, get in a fight or beat up a wall, but then he'd come back and Ravi could apologize for whatever he'd said to upset him. He just had to wait.
He turned away from the door, slumped against the back of his chair. Waiting. It would feel like forever because he was just alone with his thoughts, and they weren't thoughts he wanted to listen to. His eyes fell on the wine Alex had bought to replace what he'd poured out. He reached for it, and settled in to wait.
If someone recognized him as either Alexander or the dude who used to light lamps and wasn't your hair just a bit lighter he didn't notice. It was difficult, because he had no one to brawl with that wouldn't take it personally, and he wasn't particularly keen on getting into trouble with the Guard. This was when the privacy of one's own home would prove useful, but he didn't have one, and Willow Street wasn't close enough to be a plausible option.
He walked towards the market with brisk steps, trying to burn out the anger that way. It was unsatisfying, but what else could he do? He'd passed the Citadel on the way over and paused to silently curse it, curse it for summoning the root of all his current problems. He'd never seen the intelligence in worshiping a girl for her hair. What kind of merit was that? He thought of the girl Isley and how she'd abhorred him in the ledgers, such a dramatic turn-around from the timid girl he'd walked with once before. He wondered, perhaps, if her hatred was justified. In his case, it was that she hated what he was, not who he was, and while that normally would have been cause for a great eye-roll, in the wake of his dilemma with Ravi, it caused him a bit more consideration.
Well, that did nothing to improve his mood. He set off for the market with a scowl. There, he was hardly willing to agitate himself further with haggling and made his purchases half-heartedly. It was close to two hours later when Alex returned, rapping his knuckles against the front door. He wasn't pleased with himself or the situation, but at least he wasn't so keyed up now. Truthfully, some dread had crept into his throat, wary of how Ravi was now.
Ravi had, at some point, moved to his chair in the living room, and was staring off at the fireplace, brooding. The more he drank, it seemed, the clearer things got. He had no reason to apologize to Alex. He hadn't done anything wrong. Alex was the one who'd lost control, Alex was the one with something to make up for. No right to be angry. No right to storm off the way he had.
The knock registered in his mind long after it had passed, and he dragged himself up from the shadows of his thoughts to call out, "It's not locked." That was Alex now. Probably. Took him long enough. Ravi watched the door, slouched haphazardly in his chair, and waited for Alex to open it.
It was nice, how liberal an invitation was. The door clicked with its usual volume behind him. He flicked a glance at Ravi, slouching in his chair. His nose wrinkled as the scent of wine assaulted him. Ah. This would be pleasant.
He dropped off the purchases onto the kitchen table, took a pause there and a deep breath, then re-entered the living room. He took another pause behind Ravi's chair, resting his wrist on the top of the backrest and running his tongue behind his teeth, looking down and then to the side. "I'm sorry about that," he said, voice neutral. "Getting angry. I've no right."
He waited, following Alex with his eyes as he moved through the house. He'd talked himself up, told himself that if he didn't get an apology he was done, but then--it came. He'd wanted an apology, and he got one.
It threw him off. He was ready to be furious, but he had no reason now. All his anger was defused, just like that. His expression softened, and he took a moment to formulate a response. "It's all right," he said. Accepting apologies was still one of those awkward things he never quite knew if he was doing right, but that seemed good enough.
But he didn't know what to say after that. He'd been thrown so far off track by the unexpected apology that he didn't know where to go next.
Alex had often found little difficulty in revealing his fears to others. What was the point in keeping them locked up? They would overtake you, rule you. Often they were irrational, and sharing them with another's point of view would quickly expose the fact. Yet Alex found his throat tightening in hesitation as he considered his next words -- perhaps because this fear was too possible.
"I'm scared, honestly," he said, again trying to keep his tone neutral. "Of what I did. Of losing you. You're alive -- here -- and for that I'm more thankful than you could ever imagine. But." He pinched the fabric of the chair, rubbing it between his fingers. "I know I've lost some of your trust. I don't want to lose anymore of it."
He'd always admired Alex's ability to say what he was feeling. He never could. It helped to know how Alex felt, to know that he was afraid, that he cared, what he wanted. Why couldn't Ravi ever do that? It made things so much easier.
He twisted in the chair, turning sideways, laying his left arm across the back of it, careful to avoid brushing against Alex's hand. "I thought about this," he said, his accent coming through thick under the drink. "I thought about it--it is dharma. You are a vampire now, so you have a vampire's dharma. You do what a vampire is supposed to do, and if you do not, you are fighting your dharma. And what happened--it was karma, balancing, probably for all those times I punched you and you never hit me back--there are a lot, yes? But anyway, vampire dharma. I still can trust you but only when you are strong enough to fight it."
Ravi's explanation threw him for a loop, quite honestly. Of all the things for him to say, attributing his action of carnality to dharma was one of the lowest options Alex would have imagined -- so low the possibility hadn't even crossed his mind.
He shouldn't have been so surprised, though. Ravi had a thing about his dharma and karma, a thing he had tried to explain and finally considered Alex a lost cause when he'd just shrug his shoulders and smile in guiltless incomprehension.
His knee-jerk response was that it wasn't dharma, it was the simple fucking drive of every living thing ever to survive. He also wanted to point out that none of his punches had ever threatened Alex's life, but he kept his mouth shut. If this was how Ravi needed to look at the situation, then that was fine.
"That bottle was for cleaning, not consumption," he chided softly, a small smile spreading on his lips.
"Karma," he replied. "You used half my drinking wine for cleaning, so I took it back. Balance."
His breath caught in his throat, and then his head dipped down as a stream of laughter left him. Ravi's insistence on dharma and karma were amusing, but it was the relief of closure that was responsible for the bulk of his sudden mirth. He patted the chair and straightened. "I'll fix you something to eat."
He smiled. It was nice to see Alex laugh. Things were going to be all right. He'd just...stay away from Alex when his colours were faded, and everything would be fine.
"Wait." He caught Alex's sleeve, even though he wasn't leaving yet. "Will you stay with me?" he asked. He'd meant to ask it in a more neutral sounding way, something that didn't come across as 'I am desperately lonely with the empty house and being taken off duty for two weeks,' but trying to cover it up and rephrase it would only draw attention to it.
"Mm?" He looked at Ravi with curious eyes. He'd said something of similar effect before. Not to leave. "Sure. 'Til when?"
"Forever." NO. WAIT. THAT WAS STUPID. "No, not--I mean--Sofia, she is gone," he explained. Except he didn't actually explain, because that was all he said about it.
His brows could be compared to the slow sail of balloons rising into the air. "I gathered as much," he said at length, one brow settling higher than the other, the corner of his mouth quirked up in the kind of smile that arises when you're not really sure what's going down. "Did she go with Amelia?"
He probably should have been proud of how he'd been able to say that without grimacing, but it reminded him of his loss regardless.
He shook his head. "Poland. To visit her family. But she won't come back, I think. Or at least, not until Amelia does. She only put up with me for Amelia's sake." It was a fact and he presented it as one, with no anger or bitterness behind it. The alcohol helped. It always made it easier for him to talk plainly.
"Ah." There wasn't much he could say about that. The surprise was in how far she had gone (Poland was far, wasn't it? Alex was shit at geography.), not that she had gone, and not that she had gone now. Now he understood that Ravi meant for him to live with him. That was a little odd, honestly. Men didn't really live together unless they were relatives, but the house really was too big for one person and having a permanent place to return to was a comfort Alex was beginning to miss.
"I would have thought you'd be elated to be by yourself," he said, smirking faintly. He pulled his arm away to fall to his side.
He didn't even realize he hadn't let go of Alex's arm yet until Alex pulled away. Awkward. He pulled his arm down from the back of the chair. "I thought so too," he said, "but it is lonely without you around." A double-edged sword, this speaking plainly thing. He never would've said that sober. "Even if you are a vampire," he added, a poor attempt to cover the awkwardness that probably only made it more awkward.
Yeah, that was pretty awkward. The Ravi of now was playing against the Ravi Alex knew eighteen years ago, and even though he had pretty much melded the both of them together there were still a few loose seams, and the present Ravi's occasional softness was one of them. The Ravi he'd known before dying would have never admitted to something so vulnerable.
"Thanks?" he tried, but it had already passed into that awkward time to respond zone, making it pretty obvious that even Alex had felt something amiss.
...Hm, yup, unsalvageable. The only response for this was a subject change. He'd probably remember having said that and he'd regret the hell out of it later. He thought about it for a moment before remembering that, actually, he was still pretty goddamn hungry. "Sorry, you were going to make breakfast? I did not mean to stop you so long."
A silent laugh. "Yes, I'll go do that." It wasn't awkward enough to mull over it -- there were other, more important things like Rayna, himself and his siblings in Blomgren to occupy his attention with. And, of course, almost killing Ravi. Just because they'd 'made-up' about it didn't mean he was done thinking about it, even if he'd wished otherwise.
He went into the kitchen, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. He'd go back to sleep after Ravi had eaten.