(no subject)
Who: Sasuke, Itachi, and later Cheri
When: A day prior to THIS LOG (F-locked)
Where: Sasuke and Itachi's room, the the club/bar/what have you that Cheri works at
Why: Because I could!
What: Sasuke's drunk (again), Itachi comes home from work, Sasuke comes on to him. REJECTION. Getting more drunk, whining at Cheri, passing out.
NOTES: This log was never finished (REPEAT. INCOMPLETE LOG). I don't think there's much POINT in finishing it anymore, but if either Cheri-mun or Itachi-mun think it should be, I suggest finishing it in the comments, and I'll edit it later. For now, I'm assuming it will never get done, since it's been sitting here for weeks now. This right here is probably the real reason why I dropped and re-app'd Sasuke (I'm such a sensitive soul, couldn't stand to see my muse going through so much hurt ;_; )
Edit: Well I should have done this sooner if it was all it took to get them to finish it! Log continues in the comments.
Swirling the liquid that was in his glass, Sasuke frowned in his attempt at contemplating his current level of intoxication. He wondered absently why he bothered to try and drown out thoughts of his mysterious roommate with alcohol, considering each and every time he tried he only ended up thinking even more about the man. He was also beginning to wonder why he wasn't bartending, considering how good he realized he was at pouring rounds of shots rather quickly. Still, getting plastered in his own room (where Itachi could walk in at any minute) probably wasn't the best idea he'd had. They hadn't carded him at the liquor store, but then again, it wasn't as if he had an ID to give them, and there really was no way of telling age by looks.
Downing what was left of the glass, he pushed himself up with the notion of mixing another, only to have the entire room tilt rather dangerously on him. By assumption, he figured he probably didn't need any more at that point, or he'd regret it later, but that certainly didn't stop him from making his way back to where he'd left the bottle (why had he left it there again? Maybe so he wouldn't drink as much as he had. That was working well).
On the other side of the door, fending off a headache and feeling mildly disgusted with all of humanity (as he usually did), Itachi arrived at the small apartment he called home and unlocked the door. He didn't expect to see the room a mess, and Sasuke standing (perhaps leaning was a better word?) before the dresser, mostly-empty bottle of cheap alcohol in hand. However, given his line of work, he had learned not to be too fazed by the unexpected. With a slight nod, he shut the door behind him, dropping his sword and sinking onto the bed to pull his boots off. It didn't matter too much if Sasuke drank, really; Itachi knew that if the other man decided to become loud and annoying, he could trick him outside and lock the door, though that would probably be cruel to the neighbors. As if he cared.
Sasuke had turned upon hearing the door open (not such a wise idea, as the room spun yet again), feeling something jolt in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Itachi even as his rational mind offered up a rather horrified 'shit'. Without even thinking, he discarded the glass he'd been using in favor of drinking straight from the bottle.
He'd intended on getting into bed before his roommate came home from work, and apparently that had worked out splendidly (just how long had he been drinking, anyway?). Despite the fog he was swimming through, he was very well aware of how uninhibited he was at the moment, knowing full well the kind of trouble it would get him in and yet being unable to stop himself from doing whatever his body had in mind (as he had shaky control over it at best just then).
He had half a mind to set the bottle down (when did it get so damn empty?) before he turned toward the man on the bed, swaying almost dangerously in the process (why didn't his legs work properly, dammit!). Suddenly, he found himself wishing that Itachi would say something about how drunk he was, ask why he was drinking, anything. The nod he'd been given seemed ridiculously unsatisfying (was the man blind, or did he really, really not give a shit about him in the least?), and he found a frown working its way onto his face.
The boots and socks were off, and Itachi stretched his legs, laying back on the bed with his hands folded behind his head. There was probably still a little time to eat something, before going to bed, or perhaps to take a shower and get the grimy, rotted smell of the jail off of him. He was busy debating which to do first, when the sudden movement caught his eye and he glanced over at Sasuke, who looked somewhere between vomiting and ranting drunkenly. The thought did cross his mind to make a comment, either on his roommate's affinity for drink or current lack of employment, but stating the obvious would be a waste of energy better spent deciding what to do next. If he starts rambling, shower. Definitely a shower. After I throw him out.
The frown on Sasuke's face only deepened when he noticed that despite glancing his way for a moment, Itachi was completely ignoring him. He wasn't quite sure why, but the very thought of being ignored by the man felt practically the same as being stabbed in the chest. Determined to get his roommate to pay attention to him, he pushed off from the dresser, staggering slightly as he made his way over to Itachi and sat down next to him on the bed. It was sheer coincidence that his leg ended up bumping against the other's, but it still sent a sudden jolt the length of his spine, the warmth of the alcohol pooling and twisting with a different, even more dangerous warmth in the pit of his stomach.
He had the sense left not to blurt out something stupid despite the sudden, uninhibited want that was bubbling up inside him (he was sure that 'fuck me now' wouldn't really go over that well at this point), but it didn't stop him from letting slip Itachi's name.
Somehow, this seemed a warning to Itachi that unfortunate things would follow, though he'd never gotten drunk with anyone in Memento Eden. Perhaps an unconscious memory from drinking before? How often did I drink, anyway, if at all? "What?" He replied, his voice a flat dead monotone, train of thought unbroken. Perhaps it's merely an assumption based on evidence I've seen, but then, I haven't been to any bars since getting here. How strange.
Sasuke didn't understand why Itachi's complete deadpan struck the chord it did, but he had the sudden feeling that this rejection was absolutely nothing new. "What is with you? Am I not worth your time or attention!? You act like I'm such a fucking nuisance most of the time!" The words came before he even thought about saying them or what he was saying, and he wasn't sure if he was angry or just hurt by it all. He also wasn't sure of just when he'd moved to straddle his roommate, hands fisted in the man's shirt out of the frustration he felt, but the world had spun again and he knew that he couldn't take any of it back. All he could do was wait for what came next.
Sandwich, or shower, sandwich, or shower, sa- Itachi's concentration was broken when the bed shifted and hands grabbed at his chest, wrinkling his shirt and probably trying to pull him up. He blinked, noticing that Sasuke was now roughly six inches from his face and reeked of alcohol. He wrinkled his nose, eyes narrowing slightly, before announcing "You smell terrible and you're loud. How long have you been drinking?"
There it was again, that twist of the knife. Sasuke still, after all these weeks, didn't understand why he fought so hard for Itachi's attention, why he'd made the wish he did over Tanabata, why it didn't surprise him and yet still hurt somewhere deep inside that it didn't come true. "You're not even listening to me," he managed, just above a whisper. "Even when we're training together you barely acknowledge me at all, you're so damn frustrating! It doesn't matter what I say to you! I could tell you I wanted to have sex with you and you'd treat it like I just asked what the fuck was for dinner, wouldn't you?!" He realized a moment too late just what it was he'd said, and while he hoped that it would come across purely as hypothetical, something in the back of his mind hoped beyond hope that Itachi would take him up on it, even though he knew that hope was destined to be shattered.
Well. Itachi had expected drunken blathering, but he hadn't expected such comments. He was well aware of his attractiveness, sometimes uncomfortably so by his charges at work, but he typically brushed such things off. The thought that perhaps even Sasuke saw him in such a light was a little disconcerting. But his words were true, and Itachi wanted to explain that he was like that with everyone, including his co-workers, the other amnesiacs, and even Miss Cecelie upstairs, but he knew that Sasuke probably wouldn't listen, especially not when drunk and borderline hysterical.
Still, that comment dredged up more questions, of a more private nature, questions that sadly had not been answered by the slow trickle of memories yet. For all Itachi knew, he could be married and have a family somewhere waiting for him, though that seemed terribly unlikely as time went on. For the first time in at least a while, he found himself at a loss for what to do, or how to react, though he was leaning more for throwing Sasuke outside and taking a shower.
Oh, well. What was the harm in gathering more information? "Do you, now?"
"Hypothetically!" Sasuke blurted, though he was pretty sure at that point that Itachi saw right through it. Still, despite seeming sure of himself, his roommate didn't seem phased, just as he'd insinuated would happen. He was starting to lose his ability to stay remotely upright, and he leaned forward a little, feeling unsteady even on his knees. He tried to steady himself, moving his hands to brace against the bed (though one only managed as far as Itachi's shoulder). The man was warm, despite his cold demeanor, and at this distance he could feel the steady, warm puff of air that came with each of Itachi's exhales. What if I do? He wasn't sure if he thought it or if he breathed it out loud, because the only things he could really focus on just then were obsidian eyes.
Itachi raised an eyebrow slightly, his shoulders tensing under Sasuke's fingers. Alarm bells were going off, distantly, and he glanced at the door, judging how long it would take him to run and grab his sword. His attention returned to Sasuke, to maintaining the calm and defusing the situation. "Then, I suggest cold showers and perhaps moving back to your own apartment." he replied, crossing his arms.
"Do you think that'll change anything?" Sasuke shot back, fighting back the desperation that was welling up inside him. Somehow, he felt what little friendship (could he even call it that?) they had unravelling in the tense of Itachi's shoulders and the cross of his arms. He felt it all falling to pieces in carefully apathetic words and he frantically grasped at the suddenly frayed threads in an attempt to pull it all back together. "It's not like... it's not like this is something that'll just go away! I know damn well you couldn't care less about me, Itachi, if there was some way I could get rid of this I would!"
He felt a sudden sting in his eyes, and he didn't know how long it'd been since he'd last cried, but he had the feeling it had been a long, long time.
It was a whisper, a sigh, something out of a dream, and it was from a dream, Itachi realized that much, but it was so real that it felt like someone was kneeling behind him, cool hands caressing his face and sweet, cruel whispers in his ear.
I know you don't love us... I know you don't love anything... so why would you...
He glanced up, expecting to see the ghostly shadow that lately had haunted his dreams, but he saw nothing, nothing but his own bangs, and farther away, the pillow and headboard.
"It's not going away because you refuse to think objectively about your situation. You know little to nothing about me. You know next to nothing about yourself, I assume. Do you honestly think that your actions will have no consequence, should you remember something that conflicts with them? How naive." Itachi reached up, resting his hands on Sasuke's shoulder and pushing him back, pulling himself up to sit in the middle of the bed. "Calm down. Try to sober up a little. Crying and screaming will get you nowhere."
"It's an attraction," Sasuke argued, moving closer again despite being pushed away. "It's not going to go away, objectiveness doesn't matter. I don't care about memories there's no guarantee I'm getting back any time soon! Screw the consequences, I didn't remember anything about where I came from when I ended up here, I probably won't remember a damn thing about this place once I leave... I don't even know if I'll remember this tomorrow morning, there aren't any guarantees about this place except what we're doing now!"
"You're wrong. Eventually we'll remember our real selves, our pasts, and those things will likely hinder us. This place is but a fleeting refuge. Already we're beginning to learn more and more about our lives." Itachi frowned, looking away. "There are likely people who love you and are waiting for your return, wherever you came from. And anyway..." Anyway, this doesn't feel right at all. Something about you...
The dream once again, with the ghostly figure. He closed his eyes, remembering it. Someone's cool hands on his face, in his hair, a soft pillow and warm sunlight, and a voice above him, cruel and gentle at once. And a child with black hair and a ready smile...
Itachi opened his eyes, and glanced at Sasuke. He'd already established there was no doubt the boy in his dream was the same man who now was drunkenly coming on to him. But why?
"If our memories will hinder us, then why don't we live freely until then? If this place is such a fleeting refuge, why can't we throw caution to the wind and be happy while it lasts?" Sasuke shifted in Itachi's lap, cheek bumping lightly against his. Someone who loves me? Someone who's waiting for me? No...
"You're the only one I remember... I always chased after your shadow and you never acknowledged me, even then. If not even that much has changed, then what's to say that me remembering more is going to change this?" He was starting to feel sleepy, his eyes already at half mast and his head starting to droop. "I need something more solid than fragmented memories, Itachi," he murmured, lips grazing the side of Itachi's neck in the process. "I know that these feelings I have now are real, but for all I know, these memories aren't even my own."
Soft lips... long hair... a giggle...
Itachi shuddered, blinking at the sudden fragment of a memory, though try as he might, the rest wouldn't come back to him. Sasuke's words filtered through the confusion, and he tensed, before glancing over again. "What do you mean, they aren't your own? Also... what do you remember of me?"
Despite Itachi's tension, Sasuke was starting to relax. The man was so warm, and he wanted to simply sink into that warmth. So safe in your arms... He rested his head on Itachi's shoulder, burying his face against the man's neck. "You always... left me behind..." So much I want that you'll never give me...
If these aren't our memories, then whose are they? Do you hear that voice too? Who are you to me? Itachi shook Sasuke's shoulder, mildly frustrated that the other man was falling asleep on him, now that they were discussing what they remembered, now that he had a chance to find out what he was missing. "Wake up. Tell me." Tell me who I am.
"I have something you want?" Sasuke questioned, lifting his head until his lips brushed Itachi's ear. "And you have something I want," he murmured, because somehow it made sense in his alcohol-hazed mind, even though he couldn't really remember anything that he hadn't said already. Am I really even awake?
He tensed again, and Itachi reflected on the absurdity of the situation. Negotiating information about myself from a drunk man who wants to sleep with me. Perhaps... "You potentially have information and memories about me that I don't remember yet. I believe I may have the same for you. Tell me what you remember." he replied, tilting his head away from Sasuke's lips discreetly.
Sasuke frowned, slumping a bit more against Itachi, one arm around his shoulders. "How would you have any memory of me, when you just left me behind, never turning around to see me chasing after you..." he murmured, absently trailing his fingers through his roommate's ponytail. "That's not a good enough bargaining chip," he answered finally, lips finding their way to a strong but somewhat feminine jawline. He remembered the dreams he had through the haze, and wondered if Itachi's lips felt anything like those fantasies. "Just... a little..."
Itachi reached up, pushing two fingers against Sasuke's lips to hold him back. "I remember you... or a child that looks like you. It was sunny, and someone was talking to me. Do you remember?" he disentangled himself from Sasuke as he spoke, no small task (alcohol had made Sasuke into a dead weight), glancing around the room for an idea. There had to be some way to occupy him until he fell asleep...
As Itachi's fingers pressed against his lips, there was a flash of something, those same fingers against his forehead and forgive me, Sasuke...
Despite the other man's attempts at disentangling him, he clung with a sort of drunken desperation to Itachi's shirt. "Why can't you give me a chance instead of pushing me away all the time? Just this once?" he nearly pleaded, wishing that his roommate would just look at him rather than look for ways to get rid of him.
This was unfortunate, and Itachi almost felt sorry for Sasuke, though at the same time he was rapidly becoming frustrated. But why? "A chance for what, Sasuke? Be reasonable." he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He looked again at the other man, the same face shape, the same eyes, just slightly different hair... You look so much like me. Who are you, really? The thought sent pain through his head, and Itachi closed his eyes, fighting it off. What won't let me remember?
Sasuke's fists clenched tighter in Itachi's shirt at the man's question (and the irritation his roommate tried to hide but he'd picked up nonetheless). He had the whim to ask the man if he was blind to ask a question like that, but despite the liquor he couldn't form the words. When Itachi's eyes closed, however, his thoughts returned again to his roommate's lips, and in that instant, he found himself bold enough to lean forward and let his own answer the other's question.
Coherence and sense fled Itachi's mind, and were replaced in short order by shock. He attempted to throw himself back and off the bed, but misjudged where he was and instead slammed the back of his head against the wall, the still-clinging Sasuke landing more in his lap. White sparks of pain ripped through his head, and he groaned, slumping. Panic began to overtake him, and he grabbed Sasuke's shoulders, shoving the other man away. "What are you doing?!"
Sasuke stared, mutely, for a few moments, the image of Itachi in front of him swimming for a second. What am I doing? Rejection after rejection suddenly broke through the alcohol induced haze, until finally he just shoved himself back, the spin of the world as he stood, combined with the sick feeling in his stomach nearly enough to make him vomit on the spot. "Nothing," he managed to say as he stumbled his way to the door. "It doesn't even matter..." he choked out, not looking back as he flung the door open, somehow managing to get it closed behind him. Outside, he slumped against the door a moment, still clinging on to the faint hope that Itachi would come after him, even though he didn't think the man had a reason to.
It took Itachi a couple of minutes to regain his composure, and a couple more to search out some medicine for his screaming headache, but eventually he sat on the bed, with a cup of ice water, staring at the door. Sasuke. His roommate, and potentially something else, judging from the fleeting memories they had of each other. He touched his lips, staring at his fingers as he drew them away. He licked his lips experimentally. They tasted like salt, skin, and whatever Sasuke had been drinking. What had frightened him so much, anyway? Whispered rumors in the jail, uncreative inmates calling him girly and a fag and whore. Was there any chance that he could perhaps see Sasuke that way? An attempted mental image of the other man in the shower provided him with the answer: probably not. In reality, he hadn't exactly meant to hurt Sasuke; the shock of it all just made him panic momentarily. They never let that excuse fly in the jail, either.
He really didn't want any more drama. He'd had enough of that for the night. But it was probably cruel to leave Sasuke outside, and judging from the people he kept watch over, the town had a slight problem with crime, and Sasuke had no weapons. That, and Itachi didn't want to be responsible if the other man threw himself into traffic or into the lake. With this in mind, he rose from the bed, opening the door to find Sasuke falling back against his leg. "...Sasuke."
"Why?" was the immediate response, Sasuke screwing his eyes shut to avoid having to look up at the man whose leg he was leaning back against, the man who'd spoken his name, even if it wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to hear it. "Why did you come after me?" He was too tired to hide the hurt in his voice. He'd been moments away from pushing himself up off the floor and staggering off somewhere, he wasn't sure where just yet (possibly the bar, Cecelie seemed the only other person he could really talk to here, even if half the time she was so bubbly it almost hurt).
Itachi leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. The night breeze smelled like rain. "Because I don't like you that way. You are..." an acquaintance, sparring partner, roommate, possibly something more if I could just remember a little more about you, "I don't see you that way." he finished, wishing he knew a word for it. He didn't consider Sasuke, or anyone really, to be his friend; the term 'friend' implied a level of trust and security that Itachi felt with no one, except perhaps his sword.
It hurt, more than something he knew to be true should have. Suddenly, Sasuke felt cold and sickeningly numb, a slight shiver rolling down his body. He wanted out of this place, wanted to forget everything that had happened here, but he knew it wasn't that simple. Managing somehow to get to his feet, he swayed, but kept himself upright, still unable to bring himself to look anywhere but where he was going. He couldn't even manage to say just what it was he thought at the moment.
Why do you even act like you care when you don't?
He watched Sasuke stagger down the sidewalk, frowning. He waited until Sasuke was half a block away before pushing away from the door jamb and following him. Stealth felt like it came naturally for Itachi, and he kept himself to the shadows, his footsteps silent on the sidewalk or in the grass, never letting Sasuke out of his sight... until the other man stumbled into a nightclub. Itachi leaned against the tree, waiting for him to leave.
--------
Cheri swayed her hips on the stage in slow time with the bouncy music being played, twisting to one side and then taking a spin while cracking her whip and sending a bottlecap flying from a nearby table. Which happened to have been a few milimeters from a young man's fingers, and made him jump and then he laughed good-naturedly as his friends teased him slightly. Sashay, turn, lean, flip the hair, it was fun most of the time. Especially when she was able to show off a bit. But tonight she was just smiling and blowing kisses out of habit since her mind was elsewhere, and when the song was done she ducked back into the dressing room to change out of her costume and pulled her hair down so she could arrange it in a simple tail before slipping out and sitting at a corner table away from the light and noise.
Having caught the end of the routine as he'd come in the doors, Sasuke had leaned against the wall until Cheri had made it to her table, still not quite steady on his feet as he slipped onto the booth seat next to her and slumped slightly against her without a word.
When someone slipped into the booth across from her she glanced up from her drink about to say something until she recognized Sasuke slumping a bit. Impulsively she reached over and ran a hand cooled by a iced mudslide over his forehead. "Are you alright?" She asked, though he probably wasn't. She glanced around at some of the stares they were getting and sighed. Gently she tugged on his hand. "Let's go outside, shall we? Less stares that way. And it's cooler..."
Despite the tugging on his hand, all Sasuke could manage to do was to slump further into the seat. Outside meant closer to Itachi, and as much as he might have preferred that some other time, now wasn't that time. "I need another drink," he mumbled, resting his cheek on the table. "Something stiff so I don't remember any of this in the morning..."
Cheri smiled and got up to scoot around and actually picked him up. It seemed to her that she'd done that before though Sasuke was a bit heavier than he looked. She moved them into the staff area where there was a table and chairs in case the staff wanted to sociallize before work. The breakroom was totally empty though, and she opened a small window and got something out of the small case and brought it over. It didn't seem like Sasuke needed anything more since he reeked, but she started mixing him a White Russian since it took similar ingredients to her mudslide but was a little less sweet.
He frowned, watching her mix something with slightly hazy vision. Something straight would have been better, he thought, like shots or whatever it was she'd given him last time. Still, he'd take what he could get, which hopefully was enough to make him pass out and sleep a sleep devoid of any dreams remotely concerning his roommate. "Why am I such an idiot..." he murmured, feeling the ache in his chest coming back.
Cheri sat down across from him again and passed it over, and set two bottles on the table. It does look like you're already drunk, so are you trying to pass out now?" She tilted her head to one side and then drank the rest of her mudslide. Something must have happened...
"I don't want to remember what happened..." he answered. Swirling the drink in the glass for a moment, Sasuke knocked the whole thing back as quickly as he could, and with a shaky hold, reached the glass to Cheri for more. "Barely taste the alcohol in that..." he mumbled.
Cheri smiled a bit and poured him another one. "You aren't supposed to. That's the joy of mixed drinks. And you don't want to remember something?" She set another in front of him with a little more alcohol in it this time and made herself another mudslide. She kept a good eye on Sasuke though in case he started puking or passing out.
"He must be disgusted with me..." Sasuke mused, this time only nursing the drink he had in his hands. "I don't want to be here, don't want to remember here at all..."
"Itachi?" Cheri mused thoughtfully. She glanced down for a few moments and then looked up again with a fleeting shadow in her eyes that she pushed away mentally. She reached out and tried to tame Sasuke's hair a little without much luck. "How far off would I be in guessing you tried getting in his pants? And how drunk were you at that point?" She didn't say that scornfully, just in a sympathetic curiosity.
There it was again, the sharp, stabbing pain of a twisted knife. "Why...why does it hurt so much..." he mumbled, gripping the front of his shirt as he put his head down on the table. He was somewhere in between the old alcohol wearing off and the new alcohol taking hold, and he'd long since decided he didn't want to be that sober just now. Still, he couldn't manage to finish what was in his glass. "It doesn't matter what I do, nothing's going to change!" he managed, voice not much higher than a pained whisper.
Cheri slipped around to his side, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him into her shoulder. Seeing Sasuke like this hurt as much as if it were her own son or brother, though she probably felt that about all her friends though she couldn't remember yet. "Things will change eventually when you start remembering, but... I pray to Shinou that doesn't happen. Not yet." She trailed off for a few moments before sighing deeply. "From what I can tell though, Itachi treats everyone like that. With polite distance. Neither of you remember much yet, but it's better that you don't. It's alright to stay like this, just talk to him and draw him to you slowly. It'll take time, but I'm sure you can convince him you really mean it."
"It...it doesn't matter," Sasuke argued, shaking his head against her shoulder. "I already know it doesn't, everything I can remember of him is rejection... I thought maybe here... maybe it could be different, but it's not, nothing's different at all!"
She shook her head as well and stroked his hair gently. Remembering could destroy him, or was it destroy him again? What was in her head was something she feared herself, and she was far older than Sasuke. "Someone... put some memories in my head, Sasuke. Something connected to you, and something that may break you if you remember. That's why... I don't want you to change. I like you the way you are now, focused on what you want and fumbling around living with the rest of us. If you remember more about Itachi, that will change. It would be better if you tried not to remember what's already happened and focus on creating a new life here. Itachi too. Wouldn't that be better? I think Itachi needs that as well, and he needs you even though he doesn't realize it yet or why."
"I don't care about what's happened anymore, I just want to be with him and I went and fucked that up completely... He knows what I think about now, I can't go back there anymore, he's going to think differently of me, but not how I'd wanted," Sasuke closed his eyes, the ache of his body all encompassing.
Cheri reached over and added some maryoku to Sasuke's drink, which he hadn't touched yet, and then set it down again. Something of a sleeping aide she'd remembered just then though it wouldn't keep for long unless he drank it. "But were you drunk at the time? He may not think you're serious yet, Sasuke. You can sleep in my room again tonight, but tomorrow you should go talk to him. Please?"
"I can't..." Sasuke shook his head. "He won't..." He felt his chest tighten again, felt the drip of water down his cheeks but was already fading out. Itachi wouldn't care, he wanted to tell her that, but the fatigue and emotional drain, combined with the alcohol, were started to catch up to him, and he found that every limb felt like lead.
"Here, drink this..." Cheri murmurred, handing him the last bit of his drink. "I'll make sure you sleep for a while, and then you can face life again in the morning" She stroked his hair again and waited.
Sasuke took the offered drink, somehow managing to finish what was left. He hoped beyond hope
that he wouldn't remember in the morning the way unresponsive lips felt against his or the look on Itachi's face when he pushed him away.
She waited a few minutes until she was sure Sasuke had fallen asleep before she put their glasses down at the end of the table. She'd come back later to wash them out, but for now she needed to put Sasuke to bed. Once again she picked him up with a slight sound at the effort and nudged the back door open out into the alleyway. It wasn't too far back to the appartments at least and she was going to take her time making sure she didn't run into anyone who might ask questions or spread rumors. Not that she cared since it was easy for her to dispell rumors, all one had to do was ask her roomate to know that Cheri hadn't gotten any action since she'd gotten there. Cheri paused at the end of the alley though and glanced around. "Itachin? Are you following me?" She felt a little foolish asking that out loud in the empty alley.
He had been, and for quite some time. He'd watched her leave the bar, carrying Sasuke like a child, and had followed to see where she was going with him or what she planned to do to him. Of all the people in Memento Eden, she somehow was one he.. well, trusted wasn't quite the word. Perhaps he wasn't as suspicious of her as he was of everyone else. She just didn't seem to be a threat. He stepped out of the shadow, approaching a few feet. "I was. This isn't a terribly safe neighborhood." he replied, remembering the first time he'd met her. Drenched in blood, wounded, in an alley...
Cheri turned slightly towards the direction he came from, just melting out of the shadows in a way she couldn't figure out no matter how many times she saw it. It gave her a thrill every time. She examined him closely to see if there were any changes in him lately and other than a small crease between his eyebrows there wasn't much that had changed. Well, and the fact he wasn't smiling, but hopefully that would change. Eventually.
"Are you getting another headache?" She asked suddenly in concern, then shook her head. First things first, get Sasuke to bed and then she'd do a little something for Itachi's head. Did he regularly get headaches? She couldn't remember if he did or not, just that she massaged his temples now and then. She motioned slightly to request he walk with her and started towards the apartments again. "I'll fix that once Sasuke's all tucked in..."
She paused for a long moment before adding softly, "He's serious, you know. He's rather obsessed with you, actually."
"I am, and thank you." Itachi replied, falling into step next to her. Even from a couple of feet away, he could smell her perfume, and he felt oddly at ease next to her. She must be rather strong, to carry Sasuke like that. he noted, glancing at the unconscious man in her arms. "I've gathered as much from his... actions, in our apartment. It's rather unfortunate and awkward. I may have to send him back to his own apartment."
"I may see about getting an apartment soon, and ask him to move in with me. I can keep a better eye on him that way, though when he starts remembering more he probably won't like me much. I..." Cheri paused and sighed while glancing down at Sasuke fondly. "I don't know what to do for him even though I want to hold him and protect him, maybe more. If he remembers more of his past it may tear him apart." Cheri bit her lip a little bit and tried to figure out just how much she should reveal to the two about what had happened and decided on the middle road. With a glance at Itachi she resisted the urge to smooch him soundly and instead shifted Sasuke a bit to use more of her back than her arms to carry him. "If Sasuke does remember more about where he came from, be careful to watch him will you? He may try to kill you, and I don't want either of you getting hurt."
Cecelie's words almost made Itachi stop in the middle of the road, though his train of thought was completely derailed. He had been contemplating her comment about taking Sasuke off his hands, when... he reached out, touching her arm to stop her. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his expression betraying a hint of the confusion raging in his head.
His hand was warm where it was touching her arm and the voluntary contact was a little surprising to her after so many weeks. She turned a bit to look up at him curiously. The sort of obsession Sasuke had didn't happen overnight of course, is that what Itachi had been thinking? "Itachin, how do you feel about Sasuke?" She asked outright, turning so Itachi could look at the sleeping boy.
He pulled his hand away, and Itachi stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking away. As soon as she'd noticed, it was suddenly strange, and he wondered why he'd initiated contact at all. It just wasn't like him. Her question mirrored the questions pounding through his head all night, but it wasn't what he'd meant. when he starts remembering more he probably won't like me much... be careful to watch him... he may try to kill you....
"He is an acquaintance to spar with, and a neat and quiet roommate. He doesn't ask too many questions, typically, and he doesn't get into my belongings. He does, however, drink too much." Itachi spoke as though he were ticking off a list, but he didn't really know any other way to describe it. How he felt... he felt nothing. No animosity, but no affection. Did he feel affection towards anyone? He thought again of Cecelie covered in blood, of Sasuke crying and screaming at him. Did he feel anything at all? It was a good question.
Cheri didn't hide any of her disappointment when Itachi took his hand away but started moving again towards the apartments which were now in view. Sasuke was starting to get a bit heavy... "At least you don't dislike him, which is good. I don't want you two to kill each other, it's... too painful." She murmurred the last almost to herself and took a few steps in thoughtful consideration before crossing the last street. "Itachin, you do know that you can certainly touch me anywhere at any time you feel like it, right?"
He stopped at the other side of the street, watching Cecelie, and as soon as she was across he took Sasuke from her arms, hefting him over his shoulder. He didn't really know how to respond, how to explain that he didn't really like touching anyone anyway. Touch implied a bond, a connection, and he'd noticed that he had some difficulty with such things (current situation with Sasuke excluded, as Sasuke was unconscious).
When: A day prior to THIS LOG (F-locked)
Where: Sasuke and Itachi's room, the the club/bar/what have you that Cheri works at
Why: Because I could!
What: Sasuke's drunk (again), Itachi comes home from work, Sasuke comes on to him. REJECTION. Getting more drunk, whining at Cheri, passing out.
NOTES: This log was never finished (REPEAT. INCOMPLETE LOG). I don't think there's much POINT in finishing it anymore, but if either Cheri-mun or Itachi-mun think it should be, I suggest finishing it in the comments, and I'll edit it later. For now, I'm assuming it will never get done, since it's been sitting here for weeks now. This right here is probably the real reason why I dropped and re-app'd Sasuke (I'm such a sensitive soul, couldn't stand to see my muse going through so much hurt ;_; )
Edit: Well I should have done this sooner if it was all it took to get them to finish it! Log continues in the comments.
Swirling the liquid that was in his glass, Sasuke frowned in his attempt at contemplating his current level of intoxication. He wondered absently why he bothered to try and drown out thoughts of his mysterious roommate with alcohol, considering each and every time he tried he only ended up thinking even more about the man. He was also beginning to wonder why he wasn't bartending, considering how good he realized he was at pouring rounds of shots rather quickly. Still, getting plastered in his own room (where Itachi could walk in at any minute) probably wasn't the best idea he'd had. They hadn't carded him at the liquor store, but then again, it wasn't as if he had an ID to give them, and there really was no way of telling age by looks.
Downing what was left of the glass, he pushed himself up with the notion of mixing another, only to have the entire room tilt rather dangerously on him. By assumption, he figured he probably didn't need any more at that point, or he'd regret it later, but that certainly didn't stop him from making his way back to where he'd left the bottle (why had he left it there again? Maybe so he wouldn't drink as much as he had. That was working well).
On the other side of the door, fending off a headache and feeling mildly disgusted with all of humanity (as he usually did), Itachi arrived at the small apartment he called home and unlocked the door. He didn't expect to see the room a mess, and Sasuke standing (perhaps leaning was a better word?) before the dresser, mostly-empty bottle of cheap alcohol in hand. However, given his line of work, he had learned not to be too fazed by the unexpected. With a slight nod, he shut the door behind him, dropping his sword and sinking onto the bed to pull his boots off. It didn't matter too much if Sasuke drank, really; Itachi knew that if the other man decided to become loud and annoying, he could trick him outside and lock the door, though that would probably be cruel to the neighbors. As if he cared.
Sasuke had turned upon hearing the door open (not such a wise idea, as the room spun yet again), feeling something jolt in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Itachi even as his rational mind offered up a rather horrified 'shit'. Without even thinking, he discarded the glass he'd been using in favor of drinking straight from the bottle.
He'd intended on getting into bed before his roommate came home from work, and apparently that had worked out splendidly (just how long had he been drinking, anyway?). Despite the fog he was swimming through, he was very well aware of how uninhibited he was at the moment, knowing full well the kind of trouble it would get him in and yet being unable to stop himself from doing whatever his body had in mind (as he had shaky control over it at best just then).
He had half a mind to set the bottle down (when did it get so damn empty?) before he turned toward the man on the bed, swaying almost dangerously in the process (why didn't his legs work properly, dammit!). Suddenly, he found himself wishing that Itachi would say something about how drunk he was, ask why he was drinking, anything. The nod he'd been given seemed ridiculously unsatisfying (was the man blind, or did he really, really not give a shit about him in the least?), and he found a frown working its way onto his face.
The boots and socks were off, and Itachi stretched his legs, laying back on the bed with his hands folded behind his head. There was probably still a little time to eat something, before going to bed, or perhaps to take a shower and get the grimy, rotted smell of the jail off of him. He was busy debating which to do first, when the sudden movement caught his eye and he glanced over at Sasuke, who looked somewhere between vomiting and ranting drunkenly. The thought did cross his mind to make a comment, either on his roommate's affinity for drink or current lack of employment, but stating the obvious would be a waste of energy better spent deciding what to do next. If he starts rambling, shower. Definitely a shower. After I throw him out.
The frown on Sasuke's face only deepened when he noticed that despite glancing his way for a moment, Itachi was completely ignoring him. He wasn't quite sure why, but the very thought of being ignored by the man felt practically the same as being stabbed in the chest. Determined to get his roommate to pay attention to him, he pushed off from the dresser, staggering slightly as he made his way over to Itachi and sat down next to him on the bed. It was sheer coincidence that his leg ended up bumping against the other's, but it still sent a sudden jolt the length of his spine, the warmth of the alcohol pooling and twisting with a different, even more dangerous warmth in the pit of his stomach.
He had the sense left not to blurt out something stupid despite the sudden, uninhibited want that was bubbling up inside him (he was sure that 'fuck me now' wouldn't really go over that well at this point), but it didn't stop him from letting slip Itachi's name.
Somehow, this seemed a warning to Itachi that unfortunate things would follow, though he'd never gotten drunk with anyone in Memento Eden. Perhaps an unconscious memory from drinking before? How often did I drink, anyway, if at all? "What?" He replied, his voice a flat dead monotone, train of thought unbroken. Perhaps it's merely an assumption based on evidence I've seen, but then, I haven't been to any bars since getting here. How strange.
Sasuke didn't understand why Itachi's complete deadpan struck the chord it did, but he had the sudden feeling that this rejection was absolutely nothing new. "What is with you? Am I not worth your time or attention!? You act like I'm such a fucking nuisance most of the time!" The words came before he even thought about saying them or what he was saying, and he wasn't sure if he was angry or just hurt by it all. He also wasn't sure of just when he'd moved to straddle his roommate, hands fisted in the man's shirt out of the frustration he felt, but the world had spun again and he knew that he couldn't take any of it back. All he could do was wait for what came next.
Sandwich, or shower, sandwich, or shower, sa- Itachi's concentration was broken when the bed shifted and hands grabbed at his chest, wrinkling his shirt and probably trying to pull him up. He blinked, noticing that Sasuke was now roughly six inches from his face and reeked of alcohol. He wrinkled his nose, eyes narrowing slightly, before announcing "You smell terrible and you're loud. How long have you been drinking?"
There it was again, that twist of the knife. Sasuke still, after all these weeks, didn't understand why he fought so hard for Itachi's attention, why he'd made the wish he did over Tanabata, why it didn't surprise him and yet still hurt somewhere deep inside that it didn't come true. "You're not even listening to me," he managed, just above a whisper. "Even when we're training together you barely acknowledge me at all, you're so damn frustrating! It doesn't matter what I say to you! I could tell you I wanted to have sex with you and you'd treat it like I just asked what the fuck was for dinner, wouldn't you?!" He realized a moment too late just what it was he'd said, and while he hoped that it would come across purely as hypothetical, something in the back of his mind hoped beyond hope that Itachi would take him up on it, even though he knew that hope was destined to be shattered.
Well. Itachi had expected drunken blathering, but he hadn't expected such comments. He was well aware of his attractiveness, sometimes uncomfortably so by his charges at work, but he typically brushed such things off. The thought that perhaps even Sasuke saw him in such a light was a little disconcerting. But his words were true, and Itachi wanted to explain that he was like that with everyone, including his co-workers, the other amnesiacs, and even Miss Cecelie upstairs, but he knew that Sasuke probably wouldn't listen, especially not when drunk and borderline hysterical.
Still, that comment dredged up more questions, of a more private nature, questions that sadly had not been answered by the slow trickle of memories yet. For all Itachi knew, he could be married and have a family somewhere waiting for him, though that seemed terribly unlikely as time went on. For the first time in at least a while, he found himself at a loss for what to do, or how to react, though he was leaning more for throwing Sasuke outside and taking a shower.
Oh, well. What was the harm in gathering more information? "Do you, now?"
"Hypothetically!" Sasuke blurted, though he was pretty sure at that point that Itachi saw right through it. Still, despite seeming sure of himself, his roommate didn't seem phased, just as he'd insinuated would happen. He was starting to lose his ability to stay remotely upright, and he leaned forward a little, feeling unsteady even on his knees. He tried to steady himself, moving his hands to brace against the bed (though one only managed as far as Itachi's shoulder). The man was warm, despite his cold demeanor, and at this distance he could feel the steady, warm puff of air that came with each of Itachi's exhales. What if I do? He wasn't sure if he thought it or if he breathed it out loud, because the only things he could really focus on just then were obsidian eyes.
Itachi raised an eyebrow slightly, his shoulders tensing under Sasuke's fingers. Alarm bells were going off, distantly, and he glanced at the door, judging how long it would take him to run and grab his sword. His attention returned to Sasuke, to maintaining the calm and defusing the situation. "Then, I suggest cold showers and perhaps moving back to your own apartment." he replied, crossing his arms.
"Do you think that'll change anything?" Sasuke shot back, fighting back the desperation that was welling up inside him. Somehow, he felt what little friendship (could he even call it that?) they had unravelling in the tense of Itachi's shoulders and the cross of his arms. He felt it all falling to pieces in carefully apathetic words and he frantically grasped at the suddenly frayed threads in an attempt to pull it all back together. "It's not like... it's not like this is something that'll just go away! I know damn well you couldn't care less about me, Itachi, if there was some way I could get rid of this I would!"
He felt a sudden sting in his eyes, and he didn't know how long it'd been since he'd last cried, but he had the feeling it had been a long, long time.
It was a whisper, a sigh, something out of a dream, and it was from a dream, Itachi realized that much, but it was so real that it felt like someone was kneeling behind him, cool hands caressing his face and sweet, cruel whispers in his ear.
I know you don't love us... I know you don't love anything... so why would you...
He glanced up, expecting to see the ghostly shadow that lately had haunted his dreams, but he saw nothing, nothing but his own bangs, and farther away, the pillow and headboard.
"It's not going away because you refuse to think objectively about your situation. You know little to nothing about me. You know next to nothing about yourself, I assume. Do you honestly think that your actions will have no consequence, should you remember something that conflicts with them? How naive." Itachi reached up, resting his hands on Sasuke's shoulder and pushing him back, pulling himself up to sit in the middle of the bed. "Calm down. Try to sober up a little. Crying and screaming will get you nowhere."
"It's an attraction," Sasuke argued, moving closer again despite being pushed away. "It's not going to go away, objectiveness doesn't matter. I don't care about memories there's no guarantee I'm getting back any time soon! Screw the consequences, I didn't remember anything about where I came from when I ended up here, I probably won't remember a damn thing about this place once I leave... I don't even know if I'll remember this tomorrow morning, there aren't any guarantees about this place except what we're doing now!"
"You're wrong. Eventually we'll remember our real selves, our pasts, and those things will likely hinder us. This place is but a fleeting refuge. Already we're beginning to learn more and more about our lives." Itachi frowned, looking away. "There are likely people who love you and are waiting for your return, wherever you came from. And anyway..." Anyway, this doesn't feel right at all. Something about you...
The dream once again, with the ghostly figure. He closed his eyes, remembering it. Someone's cool hands on his face, in his hair, a soft pillow and warm sunlight, and a voice above him, cruel and gentle at once. And a child with black hair and a ready smile...
Itachi opened his eyes, and glanced at Sasuke. He'd already established there was no doubt the boy in his dream was the same man who now was drunkenly coming on to him. But why?
"If our memories will hinder us, then why don't we live freely until then? If this place is such a fleeting refuge, why can't we throw caution to the wind and be happy while it lasts?" Sasuke shifted in Itachi's lap, cheek bumping lightly against his. Someone who loves me? Someone who's waiting for me? No...
"You're the only one I remember... I always chased after your shadow and you never acknowledged me, even then. If not even that much has changed, then what's to say that me remembering more is going to change this?" He was starting to feel sleepy, his eyes already at half mast and his head starting to droop. "I need something more solid than fragmented memories, Itachi," he murmured, lips grazing the side of Itachi's neck in the process. "I know that these feelings I have now are real, but for all I know, these memories aren't even my own."
Soft lips... long hair... a giggle...
Itachi shuddered, blinking at the sudden fragment of a memory, though try as he might, the rest wouldn't come back to him. Sasuke's words filtered through the confusion, and he tensed, before glancing over again. "What do you mean, they aren't your own? Also... what do you remember of me?"
Despite Itachi's tension, Sasuke was starting to relax. The man was so warm, and he wanted to simply sink into that warmth. So safe in your arms... He rested his head on Itachi's shoulder, burying his face against the man's neck. "You always... left me behind..." So much I want that you'll never give me...
If these aren't our memories, then whose are they? Do you hear that voice too? Who are you to me? Itachi shook Sasuke's shoulder, mildly frustrated that the other man was falling asleep on him, now that they were discussing what they remembered, now that he had a chance to find out what he was missing. "Wake up. Tell me." Tell me who I am.
"I have something you want?" Sasuke questioned, lifting his head until his lips brushed Itachi's ear. "And you have something I want," he murmured, because somehow it made sense in his alcohol-hazed mind, even though he couldn't really remember anything that he hadn't said already. Am I really even awake?
He tensed again, and Itachi reflected on the absurdity of the situation. Negotiating information about myself from a drunk man who wants to sleep with me. Perhaps... "You potentially have information and memories about me that I don't remember yet. I believe I may have the same for you. Tell me what you remember." he replied, tilting his head away from Sasuke's lips discreetly.
Sasuke frowned, slumping a bit more against Itachi, one arm around his shoulders. "How would you have any memory of me, when you just left me behind, never turning around to see me chasing after you..." he murmured, absently trailing his fingers through his roommate's ponytail. "That's not a good enough bargaining chip," he answered finally, lips finding their way to a strong but somewhat feminine jawline. He remembered the dreams he had through the haze, and wondered if Itachi's lips felt anything like those fantasies. "Just... a little..."
Itachi reached up, pushing two fingers against Sasuke's lips to hold him back. "I remember you... or a child that looks like you. It was sunny, and someone was talking to me. Do you remember?" he disentangled himself from Sasuke as he spoke, no small task (alcohol had made Sasuke into a dead weight), glancing around the room for an idea. There had to be some way to occupy him until he fell asleep...
As Itachi's fingers pressed against his lips, there was a flash of something, those same fingers against his forehead and forgive me, Sasuke...
Despite the other man's attempts at disentangling him, he clung with a sort of drunken desperation to Itachi's shirt. "Why can't you give me a chance instead of pushing me away all the time? Just this once?" he nearly pleaded, wishing that his roommate would just look at him rather than look for ways to get rid of him.
This was unfortunate, and Itachi almost felt sorry for Sasuke, though at the same time he was rapidly becoming frustrated. But why? "A chance for what, Sasuke? Be reasonable." he said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. He looked again at the other man, the same face shape, the same eyes, just slightly different hair... You look so much like me. Who are you, really? The thought sent pain through his head, and Itachi closed his eyes, fighting it off. What won't let me remember?
Sasuke's fists clenched tighter in Itachi's shirt at the man's question (and the irritation his roommate tried to hide but he'd picked up nonetheless). He had the whim to ask the man if he was blind to ask a question like that, but despite the liquor he couldn't form the words. When Itachi's eyes closed, however, his thoughts returned again to his roommate's lips, and in that instant, he found himself bold enough to lean forward and let his own answer the other's question.
Coherence and sense fled Itachi's mind, and were replaced in short order by shock. He attempted to throw himself back and off the bed, but misjudged where he was and instead slammed the back of his head against the wall, the still-clinging Sasuke landing more in his lap. White sparks of pain ripped through his head, and he groaned, slumping. Panic began to overtake him, and he grabbed Sasuke's shoulders, shoving the other man away. "What are you doing?!"
Sasuke stared, mutely, for a few moments, the image of Itachi in front of him swimming for a second. What am I doing? Rejection after rejection suddenly broke through the alcohol induced haze, until finally he just shoved himself back, the spin of the world as he stood, combined with the sick feeling in his stomach nearly enough to make him vomit on the spot. "Nothing," he managed to say as he stumbled his way to the door. "It doesn't even matter..." he choked out, not looking back as he flung the door open, somehow managing to get it closed behind him. Outside, he slumped against the door a moment, still clinging on to the faint hope that Itachi would come after him, even though he didn't think the man had a reason to.
It took Itachi a couple of minutes to regain his composure, and a couple more to search out some medicine for his screaming headache, but eventually he sat on the bed, with a cup of ice water, staring at the door. Sasuke. His roommate, and potentially something else, judging from the fleeting memories they had of each other. He touched his lips, staring at his fingers as he drew them away. He licked his lips experimentally. They tasted like salt, skin, and whatever Sasuke had been drinking. What had frightened him so much, anyway? Whispered rumors in the jail, uncreative inmates calling him girly and a fag and whore. Was there any chance that he could perhaps see Sasuke that way? An attempted mental image of the other man in the shower provided him with the answer: probably not. In reality, he hadn't exactly meant to hurt Sasuke; the shock of it all just made him panic momentarily. They never let that excuse fly in the jail, either.
He really didn't want any more drama. He'd had enough of that for the night. But it was probably cruel to leave Sasuke outside, and judging from the people he kept watch over, the town had a slight problem with crime, and Sasuke had no weapons. That, and Itachi didn't want to be responsible if the other man threw himself into traffic or into the lake. With this in mind, he rose from the bed, opening the door to find Sasuke falling back against his leg. "...Sasuke."
"Why?" was the immediate response, Sasuke screwing his eyes shut to avoid having to look up at the man whose leg he was leaning back against, the man who'd spoken his name, even if it wasn't exactly how he'd wanted to hear it. "Why did you come after me?" He was too tired to hide the hurt in his voice. He'd been moments away from pushing himself up off the floor and staggering off somewhere, he wasn't sure where just yet (possibly the bar, Cecelie seemed the only other person he could really talk to here, even if half the time she was so bubbly it almost hurt).
Itachi leaned against the doorjamb, crossing his arms. The night breeze smelled like rain. "Because I don't like you that way. You are..." an acquaintance, sparring partner, roommate, possibly something more if I could just remember a little more about you, "I don't see you that way." he finished, wishing he knew a word for it. He didn't consider Sasuke, or anyone really, to be his friend; the term 'friend' implied a level of trust and security that Itachi felt with no one, except perhaps his sword.
It hurt, more than something he knew to be true should have. Suddenly, Sasuke felt cold and sickeningly numb, a slight shiver rolling down his body. He wanted out of this place, wanted to forget everything that had happened here, but he knew it wasn't that simple. Managing somehow to get to his feet, he swayed, but kept himself upright, still unable to bring himself to look anywhere but where he was going. He couldn't even manage to say just what it was he thought at the moment.
Why do you even act like you care when you don't?
He watched Sasuke stagger down the sidewalk, frowning. He waited until Sasuke was half a block away before pushing away from the door jamb and following him. Stealth felt like it came naturally for Itachi, and he kept himself to the shadows, his footsteps silent on the sidewalk or in the grass, never letting Sasuke out of his sight... until the other man stumbled into a nightclub. Itachi leaned against the tree, waiting for him to leave.
--------
Cheri swayed her hips on the stage in slow time with the bouncy music being played, twisting to one side and then taking a spin while cracking her whip and sending a bottlecap flying from a nearby table. Which happened to have been a few milimeters from a young man's fingers, and made him jump and then he laughed good-naturedly as his friends teased him slightly. Sashay, turn, lean, flip the hair, it was fun most of the time. Especially when she was able to show off a bit. But tonight she was just smiling and blowing kisses out of habit since her mind was elsewhere, and when the song was done she ducked back into the dressing room to change out of her costume and pulled her hair down so she could arrange it in a simple tail before slipping out and sitting at a corner table away from the light and noise.
Having caught the end of the routine as he'd come in the doors, Sasuke had leaned against the wall until Cheri had made it to her table, still not quite steady on his feet as he slipped onto the booth seat next to her and slumped slightly against her without a word.
When someone slipped into the booth across from her she glanced up from her drink about to say something until she recognized Sasuke slumping a bit. Impulsively she reached over and ran a hand cooled by a iced mudslide over his forehead. "Are you alright?" She asked, though he probably wasn't. She glanced around at some of the stares they were getting and sighed. Gently she tugged on his hand. "Let's go outside, shall we? Less stares that way. And it's cooler..."
Despite the tugging on his hand, all Sasuke could manage to do was to slump further into the seat. Outside meant closer to Itachi, and as much as he might have preferred that some other time, now wasn't that time. "I need another drink," he mumbled, resting his cheek on the table. "Something stiff so I don't remember any of this in the morning..."
Cheri smiled and got up to scoot around and actually picked him up. It seemed to her that she'd done that before though Sasuke was a bit heavier than he looked. She moved them into the staff area where there was a table and chairs in case the staff wanted to sociallize before work. The breakroom was totally empty though, and she opened a small window and got something out of the small case and brought it over. It didn't seem like Sasuke needed anything more since he reeked, but she started mixing him a White Russian since it took similar ingredients to her mudslide but was a little less sweet.
He frowned, watching her mix something with slightly hazy vision. Something straight would have been better, he thought, like shots or whatever it was she'd given him last time. Still, he'd take what he could get, which hopefully was enough to make him pass out and sleep a sleep devoid of any dreams remotely concerning his roommate. "Why am I such an idiot..." he murmured, feeling the ache in his chest coming back.
Cheri sat down across from him again and passed it over, and set two bottles on the table. It does look like you're already drunk, so are you trying to pass out now?" She tilted her head to one side and then drank the rest of her mudslide. Something must have happened...
"I don't want to remember what happened..." he answered. Swirling the drink in the glass for a moment, Sasuke knocked the whole thing back as quickly as he could, and with a shaky hold, reached the glass to Cheri for more. "Barely taste the alcohol in that..." he mumbled.
Cheri smiled a bit and poured him another one. "You aren't supposed to. That's the joy of mixed drinks. And you don't want to remember something?" She set another in front of him with a little more alcohol in it this time and made herself another mudslide. She kept a good eye on Sasuke though in case he started puking or passing out.
"He must be disgusted with me..." Sasuke mused, this time only nursing the drink he had in his hands. "I don't want to be here, don't want to remember here at all..."
"Itachi?" Cheri mused thoughtfully. She glanced down for a few moments and then looked up again with a fleeting shadow in her eyes that she pushed away mentally. She reached out and tried to tame Sasuke's hair a little without much luck. "How far off would I be in guessing you tried getting in his pants? And how drunk were you at that point?" She didn't say that scornfully, just in a sympathetic curiosity.
There it was again, the sharp, stabbing pain of a twisted knife. "Why...why does it hurt so much..." he mumbled, gripping the front of his shirt as he put his head down on the table. He was somewhere in between the old alcohol wearing off and the new alcohol taking hold, and he'd long since decided he didn't want to be that sober just now. Still, he couldn't manage to finish what was in his glass. "It doesn't matter what I do, nothing's going to change!" he managed, voice not much higher than a pained whisper.
Cheri slipped around to his side, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him into her shoulder. Seeing Sasuke like this hurt as much as if it were her own son or brother, though she probably felt that about all her friends though she couldn't remember yet. "Things will change eventually when you start remembering, but... I pray to Shinou that doesn't happen. Not yet." She trailed off for a few moments before sighing deeply. "From what I can tell though, Itachi treats everyone like that. With polite distance. Neither of you remember much yet, but it's better that you don't. It's alright to stay like this, just talk to him and draw him to you slowly. It'll take time, but I'm sure you can convince him you really mean it."
"It...it doesn't matter," Sasuke argued, shaking his head against her shoulder. "I already know it doesn't, everything I can remember of him is rejection... I thought maybe here... maybe it could be different, but it's not, nothing's different at all!"
She shook her head as well and stroked his hair gently. Remembering could destroy him, or was it destroy him again? What was in her head was something she feared herself, and she was far older than Sasuke. "Someone... put some memories in my head, Sasuke. Something connected to you, and something that may break you if you remember. That's why... I don't want you to change. I like you the way you are now, focused on what you want and fumbling around living with the rest of us. If you remember more about Itachi, that will change. It would be better if you tried not to remember what's already happened and focus on creating a new life here. Itachi too. Wouldn't that be better? I think Itachi needs that as well, and he needs you even though he doesn't realize it yet or why."
"I don't care about what's happened anymore, I just want to be with him and I went and fucked that up completely... He knows what I think about now, I can't go back there anymore, he's going to think differently of me, but not how I'd wanted," Sasuke closed his eyes, the ache of his body all encompassing.
Cheri reached over and added some maryoku to Sasuke's drink, which he hadn't touched yet, and then set it down again. Something of a sleeping aide she'd remembered just then though it wouldn't keep for long unless he drank it. "But were you drunk at the time? He may not think you're serious yet, Sasuke. You can sleep in my room again tonight, but tomorrow you should go talk to him. Please?"
"I can't..." Sasuke shook his head. "He won't..." He felt his chest tighten again, felt the drip of water down his cheeks but was already fading out. Itachi wouldn't care, he wanted to tell her that, but the fatigue and emotional drain, combined with the alcohol, were started to catch up to him, and he found that every limb felt like lead.
"Here, drink this..." Cheri murmurred, handing him the last bit of his drink. "I'll make sure you sleep for a while, and then you can face life again in the morning" She stroked his hair again and waited.
Sasuke took the offered drink, somehow managing to finish what was left. He hoped beyond hope
that he wouldn't remember in the morning the way unresponsive lips felt against his or the look on Itachi's face when he pushed him away.
She waited a few minutes until she was sure Sasuke had fallen asleep before she put their glasses down at the end of the table. She'd come back later to wash them out, but for now she needed to put Sasuke to bed. Once again she picked him up with a slight sound at the effort and nudged the back door open out into the alleyway. It wasn't too far back to the appartments at least and she was going to take her time making sure she didn't run into anyone who might ask questions or spread rumors. Not that she cared since it was easy for her to dispell rumors, all one had to do was ask her roomate to know that Cheri hadn't gotten any action since she'd gotten there. Cheri paused at the end of the alley though and glanced around. "Itachin? Are you following me?" She felt a little foolish asking that out loud in the empty alley.
He had been, and for quite some time. He'd watched her leave the bar, carrying Sasuke like a child, and had followed to see where she was going with him or what she planned to do to him. Of all the people in Memento Eden, she somehow was one he.. well, trusted wasn't quite the word. Perhaps he wasn't as suspicious of her as he was of everyone else. She just didn't seem to be a threat. He stepped out of the shadow, approaching a few feet. "I was. This isn't a terribly safe neighborhood." he replied, remembering the first time he'd met her. Drenched in blood, wounded, in an alley...
Cheri turned slightly towards the direction he came from, just melting out of the shadows in a way she couldn't figure out no matter how many times she saw it. It gave her a thrill every time. She examined him closely to see if there were any changes in him lately and other than a small crease between his eyebrows there wasn't much that had changed. Well, and the fact he wasn't smiling, but hopefully that would change. Eventually.
"Are you getting another headache?" She asked suddenly in concern, then shook her head. First things first, get Sasuke to bed and then she'd do a little something for Itachi's head. Did he regularly get headaches? She couldn't remember if he did or not, just that she massaged his temples now and then. She motioned slightly to request he walk with her and started towards the apartments again. "I'll fix that once Sasuke's all tucked in..."
She paused for a long moment before adding softly, "He's serious, you know. He's rather obsessed with you, actually."
"I am, and thank you." Itachi replied, falling into step next to her. Even from a couple of feet away, he could smell her perfume, and he felt oddly at ease next to her. She must be rather strong, to carry Sasuke like that. he noted, glancing at the unconscious man in her arms. "I've gathered as much from his... actions, in our apartment. It's rather unfortunate and awkward. I may have to send him back to his own apartment."
"I may see about getting an apartment soon, and ask him to move in with me. I can keep a better eye on him that way, though when he starts remembering more he probably won't like me much. I..." Cheri paused and sighed while glancing down at Sasuke fondly. "I don't know what to do for him even though I want to hold him and protect him, maybe more. If he remembers more of his past it may tear him apart." Cheri bit her lip a little bit and tried to figure out just how much she should reveal to the two about what had happened and decided on the middle road. With a glance at Itachi she resisted the urge to smooch him soundly and instead shifted Sasuke a bit to use more of her back than her arms to carry him. "If Sasuke does remember more about where he came from, be careful to watch him will you? He may try to kill you, and I don't want either of you getting hurt."
Cecelie's words almost made Itachi stop in the middle of the road, though his train of thought was completely derailed. He had been contemplating her comment about taking Sasuke off his hands, when... he reached out, touching her arm to stop her. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his expression betraying a hint of the confusion raging in his head.
His hand was warm where it was touching her arm and the voluntary contact was a little surprising to her after so many weeks. She turned a bit to look up at him curiously. The sort of obsession Sasuke had didn't happen overnight of course, is that what Itachi had been thinking? "Itachin, how do you feel about Sasuke?" She asked outright, turning so Itachi could look at the sleeping boy.
He pulled his hand away, and Itachi stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking away. As soon as she'd noticed, it was suddenly strange, and he wondered why he'd initiated contact at all. It just wasn't like him. Her question mirrored the questions pounding through his head all night, but it wasn't what he'd meant. when he starts remembering more he probably won't like me much... be careful to watch him... he may try to kill you....
"He is an acquaintance to spar with, and a neat and quiet roommate. He doesn't ask too many questions, typically, and he doesn't get into my belongings. He does, however, drink too much." Itachi spoke as though he were ticking off a list, but he didn't really know any other way to describe it. How he felt... he felt nothing. No animosity, but no affection. Did he feel affection towards anyone? He thought again of Cecelie covered in blood, of Sasuke crying and screaming at him. Did he feel anything at all? It was a good question.
Cheri didn't hide any of her disappointment when Itachi took his hand away but started moving again towards the apartments which were now in view. Sasuke was starting to get a bit heavy... "At least you don't dislike him, which is good. I don't want you two to kill each other, it's... too painful." She murmurred the last almost to herself and took a few steps in thoughtful consideration before crossing the last street. "Itachin, you do know that you can certainly touch me anywhere at any time you feel like it, right?"
He stopped at the other side of the street, watching Cecelie, and as soon as she was across he took Sasuke from her arms, hefting him over his shoulder. He didn't really know how to respond, how to explain that he didn't really like touching anyone anyway. Touch implied a bond, a connection, and he'd noticed that he had some difficulty with such things (current situation with Sasuke excluded, as Sasuke was unconscious).