The thought amuses him slightly, a sad sort of amusement that weighs heavy on his mind with a lingered acceptance. His hand rests over the doorknob, his feet station themselves on a kitten-shaped welcome mat that proclaims "WIPE YOUR PAWS" and his mind is a million miles away as he tries to register years of life that have been purged from him in the span of months. Days. Hours. Just when was it that he left behind the ideologies of childhood to be replaced with something stronger?
His limbs ache, but pain is something that was left behind along with who he thought he was. His eyes are bloodshot, sleep has become something next to obsolete after months of being denied it. His thoughts are focused, not as scattered as they once were.
Jacen's feet were heavy and shuffled as he finally managed to open the door, a yawn escaping from his mouth as his lidded eyes slid lower and lower, a heavy black bar that was gradually closing off his vision
( ... )
The man was lucky the feeling of his mutation had shocked her into absolute stillness, otherwise there would have been a bullet in his skull from the gun in her hands. Not feeling quite done yet, she stared a little more as he had the gall to walk straight past her.
She kept staring at the place where he had been, almost like that would make him reappear or something. There was something very surreal about this whole experience, enough so that she might have assumed that she was caught in the middle of some other mutant's illusion, if her own powers weren't still in working order.
She kept a hold of the gun, but lowered it, hand definitely not shaking at all as she waited for Jacen to return to the room.
The flush of the toilet and the sound of the seat being put down (he had learned that lesson the hard way after an ear-chewing) was the only thing that announced Jacen's emerging from the bathroom and into his living room.
He shook his head, taking a long stare around the apartment that for so long had been his home. But you don't go-
Okay, Karin was about this close to just shooting him anyway.
"'Hey Karin'," she echoed flatly. "Oh, hey Karin." Conversationally. "HEY KARIN!?" Demanding, confused, hella freaked out. She tossed the gun on the ground to punctuate her sentence, and also because the noise it made when it hit was pretty satisfying. "What the hell, Jacen!?"
Jacen's eyes stared at the gun after Karin threw it. It was strange how he didn't even flinch at the sound, or the fact that Karin was yelling at him and holding a certain gleam to her eyes that he had come to associate with getting his ass kicked.
He wanted to do so many things. Hold her being the first. But all that came to mind, at seeing her this livid and being disconnected from her emotions due to his loss of empathetic vision only left him with a sense of profound exhaustion.
Karin followed his gaze to where the gun had landed for a moment, before blinking back over to Jacen. Abruptly the anger - well, most of it - drained from her, and she was just confused.
"Of course it was," she snapped, but there wasn't a whole lot of heat to it as she took him the sight of him. He felt - so different. Before, he'd been an almost overwhelming presence. Now the candy was stale and the roses dried up. "You have a beard," she said eventually, dropping back onto the couch and returning her attention to the amoebas.
"I just wanted to be sure," he said, trying and failing to muster a confident smile, "That way I don't have to deal with any strange identity questions."
It was a joke, but it fell flat. There wasn't the usual chuckle at the end of the statement, or the brevity. It rang horribly ironic, even to his own ears.
"Do I?" He asked, rubbing a hand thoughtfully over it, this time there was some humor in his expression, "Didn't notice." His smile was soft, "Do you like it?"
Her face twisted, even though she wasn't looking at him. There was something horribly off here, and Karin...wasn't sure she wanted to know what it was.
"No one else was using this place, and I wanted to make it harder to find me," she said to the silence. It was practical - logical, even. Definitely not sentimental.
She glanced at him again, then tucked her legs underneath her, looking back at the tv. "Don't look at me like that," she muttered. "No, I don't. You look like a hobo."
"I'm glad you still held onto the key then," Jacen said quietly, almost a whisper.
The statement communicated all that he needed to. They both knew why Karin had decided to crash at his apartment rather than anywhere else. After all, even if they hadn't broadcasted their relationship, it was no secret that the two were close. There were better places to hide.
"Ruggedly-handsome-starving-artist hobo or crazed-drunk hobo?"
"Holy crap, this is the most pointless show that ever existed," Karin declared, flicking the television off with a short jab of the remote. She stared at the blank screen for a moment. "It made a cool-looking necklace," she said tonelessly.
Looking at her, nothing had changed about the way she was sitting - to the untrained eye at least. To anyone who knew her (not a large pool of people, to be sure, but whatever), she abruptly looked--
Small.
And she knew it, and hated it, and couldn't do anything about it. She'd missed him, damnit, not that she'd ever, ever tell him that. "A mix of both," she said, still toneless, still staring at the blank screen as her fingers drummed an erratic beat on her leg.
Jacen just stared at her, watching as she shut off the television- watching as she tried to act as if there wasn't anything out of the ordinary after he returned home following a six month absence.
He wasn't empathetic. Not in the way that he used to be, but that didn't matter. He knew her. He knew Karin, the girl that he had stubbornly tried to befriend all throughout school at Xavier's, the one that tried to hide from everyone even when she couldn't. The girl who would rather insult him and kick him while he was down instead of just admitting that there was some sort of feeling on her end. Stubborn, beautiful, Karin.
"You can only be what you are."And when Karin turned to face the television, Jacen knew it was because seeing him upset her. And that if Karin was upset, she cared enough to allow herself to feel that emotion
( ... )
It took all of her self control not to turn in his direction as she heard the steps coming towards her. There was a fly on the television, she noted absently, desperately, putting all her focus onto that one pathetic little bug.
She didn't notice she was holding her breath until his arms wrapped around her and she was forced to let it out before she did something stupid like faint. She did it slowly, carefully, the air escaping in a low hiss like she hadn't kept it pent up for so long. He didn't need to see that. She didn't want him to see that.
She flinched slightly at his face at her neck, the product of over a decade of people's teeth sinking into her skin and taking. He didn't nbite though - had only ever done that when she'd made him, had been so goddamn scared for him that it was worth exposing her secret just to make sure she could yell at him about it afterwards
( ... )
If his eyes were closed, Karin's were wide open. If she closed her eyes, it would be like admitting that she took some sort of comfort from the fact that he was here and she wasn't by herself again. Anymore.
And maybe. Maybe if she closed her eyes, it would turned out that she'd imagined it all. Not that she'd made a habit of doing that or anything.
"Of course you did," she replied, tone aiming for derisive and falling short with a shaky tone. "You shouldn't have stayed away for so long, then. Idiot."
He smiled at that, his lips close enough to Karin's bare skin that he knew she could feel it.
"Of course I did," he repeated in a soft tone, thinking about the months where he had forgotten everything about humanity, about mutant rights about Jacen Solo, about everything that wasn't pain. Pain had been his only reason for living, and now, he was finding the other reasons that he had left behind during his crucible and it was one of the rare moments where he was truly thankful that his empathy was gone. There was no way to communicate this.
The thought amuses him slightly, a sad sort of amusement that weighs heavy on his mind with a lingered acceptance. His hand rests over the doorknob, his feet station themselves on a kitten-shaped welcome mat that proclaims "WIPE YOUR PAWS" and his mind is a million miles away as he tries to register years of life that have been purged from him in the span of months. Days. Hours. Just when was it that he left behind the ideologies of childhood to be replaced with something stronger?
His limbs ache, but pain is something that was left behind along with who he thought he was. His eyes are bloodshot, sleep has become something next to obsolete after months of being denied it. His thoughts are focused, not as scattered as they once were.
"Who are you?"
"Jacen. Just Jacen."
He is Jacen Solo.
And Jacen Solo has come home.
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The man was lucky the feeling of his mutation had shocked her into absolute stillness, otherwise there would have been a bullet in his skull from the gun in her hands. Not feeling quite done yet, she stared a little more as he had the gall to walk straight past her.
She kept staring at the place where he had been, almost like that would make him reappear or something. There was something very surreal about this whole experience, enough so that she might have assumed that she was caught in the middle of some other mutant's illusion, if her own powers weren't still in working order.
She kept a hold of the gun, but lowered it, hand definitely not shaking at all as she waited for Jacen to return to the room.
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He shook his head, taking a long stare around the apartment that for so long had been his home. But you don't go-
His stare stopped when he noticed a visitor.
A visitor with a hand on gun.
And Jacen gave a very wane, but warm smile.
"Hey Karin."
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"'Hey Karin'," she echoed flatly. "Oh, hey Karin." Conversationally. "HEY KARIN!?" Demanding, confused, hella freaked out. She tossed the gun on the ground to punctuate her sentence, and also because the noise it made when it hit was pretty satisfying. "What the hell, Jacen!?"
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He wanted to do so many things. Hold her being the first. But all that came to mind, at seeing her this livid and being disconnected from her emotions due to his loss of empathetic vision only left him with a sense of profound exhaustion.
"Was that your makeup bag on the counter?"
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"Of course it was," she snapped, but there wasn't a whole lot of heat to it as she took him the sight of him. He felt - so different. Before, he'd been an almost overwhelming presence. Now the candy was stale and the roses dried up. "You have a beard," she said eventually, dropping back onto the couch and returning her attention to the amoebas.
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It was a joke, but it fell flat. There wasn't the usual chuckle at the end of the statement, or the brevity. It rang horribly ironic, even to his own ears.
"Do I?" He asked, rubbing a hand thoughtfully over it, this time there was some humor in his expression, "Didn't notice." His smile was soft, "Do you like it?"
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"No one else was using this place, and I wanted to make it harder to find me," she said to the silence. It was practical - logical, even. Definitely not sentimental.
She glanced at him again, then tucked her legs underneath her, looking back at the tv. "Don't look at me like that," she muttered. "No, I don't. You look like a hobo."
Reply
The statement communicated all that he needed to. They both knew why Karin had decided to crash at his apartment rather than anywhere else. After all, even if they hadn't broadcasted their relationship, it was no secret that the two were close. There were better places to hide.
"Ruggedly-handsome-starving-artist hobo or crazed-drunk hobo?"
Reply
Looking at her, nothing had changed about the way she was sitting - to the untrained eye at least. To anyone who knew her (not a large pool of people, to be sure, but whatever), she abruptly looked--
Small.
And she knew it, and hated it, and couldn't do anything about it. She'd missed him, damnit, not that she'd ever, ever tell him that. "A mix of both," she said, still toneless, still staring at the blank screen as her fingers drummed an erratic beat on her leg.
Reply
He wasn't empathetic. Not in the way that he used to be, but that didn't matter. He knew her. He knew Karin, the girl that he had stubbornly tried to befriend all throughout school at Xavier's, the one that tried to hide from everyone even when she couldn't. The girl who would rather insult him and kick him while he was down instead of just admitting that there was some sort of feeling on her end. Stubborn, beautiful, Karin.
"You can only be what you are."And when Karin turned to face the television, Jacen knew it was because seeing him upset her. And that if Karin was upset, she cared enough to allow herself to feel that emotion ( ... )
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She didn't notice she was holding her breath until his arms wrapped around her and she was forced to let it out before she did something stupid like faint. She did it slowly, carefully, the air escaping in a low hiss like she hadn't kept it pent up for so long. He didn't need to see that. She didn't want him to see that.
She flinched slightly at his face at her neck, the product of over a decade of people's teeth sinking into her skin and taking. He didn't nbite though - had only ever done that when she'd made him, had been so goddamn scared for him that it was worth exposing her secret just to make sure she could yell at him about it afterwards ( ... )
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"I missed you," he whispered quietly.
Everything that I tell you is the truth.
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And maybe. Maybe if she closed her eyes, it would turned out that she'd imagined it all. Not that she'd made a habit of doing that or anything.
"Of course you did," she replied, tone aiming for derisive and falling short with a shaky tone. "You shouldn't have stayed away for so long, then. Idiot."
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"Of course I did," he repeated in a soft tone, thinking about the months where he had forgotten everything about humanity, about mutant rights about Jacen Solo, about everything that wasn't pain. Pain had been his only reason for living, and now, he was finding the other reasons that he had left behind during his crucible and it was one of the rare moments where he was truly thankful that his empathy was gone. There was no way to communicate this.
He pressed his lips to one of her scars.
"I'll be better about it."
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