(Untitled)
Who: Itachi (prodigal_liar) and Elena (wellsuited)
When: 3 a.m.
Where: Itachi's place
Format: Paragraph
What: Elena stays with Itachi as he recovers from going too deep into the Mist.
Warnings: B'awww, angst? Fluff? A touch TBD.
( i'm frozen with this fear that you might disappear )
When: 3 a.m.
Where: Itachi's place
Format: Paragraph
What: Elena stays with Itachi as he recovers from going too deep into the Mist.
Warnings: B'awww, angst? Fluff? A touch TBD.
( i'm frozen with this fear that you might disappear )
She only thought it, didn't dare to put it into words. It had been a battle lately, Itachi determined to keep her at arm's length, Elena just as determined to inch closer. But neither of them were in any shape for fighting right now.
"It was too early to make soup."
Or should that have been 'too late'? She blinked a few times at her own words, but now she felt obligated to continue with that train of thought.
"I heard that it's good for people to eat soup when they're not feeling well. But I can't make it until it's daylight, so..."
Elena trailed off, her eyes locked with his for a moment. She finally sighed. And like she always does, she tried again.
"I wasn't leaving until I knew you were okay."
And though he might argue that he was now, there was a new obstacle -- Elena suddenly felt the weight of those seconds, minutes, and hours. It was crushing, draining, and the last thing she wanted to think about was moving from that spot.
"Did you really expect to open your eyes and not see me?"
Just a hint of sheepishness in her voice as she asked that question. She insisted on being the last thing he saw before he left as well.
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Perhaps it was his comeuppance for contributing to the exorbitant amount of brothy fluids that had been administered to Zack when he had been bedridden recently.
"I am not hungry," he murmured, very nearly under his breath, a little sharply, but more to himself than to the woman stretched out on the bed beside him... Beside him?!
Grimacing faintly, Itachi quickly dug his elbows into the mattress and bedding, then pushed himself upright into a sitting position. Elena didn't relent, however, trailed on without pause, sentimental words spilling from her lips, stirring up old feelings of guilt and frustration within Itachi once more. She was good at that... too good... and what was worse was that she never intended for that to be the reaction to her words, but it always was. Always.
"I was hoping you would not be here, to be honest." Partially honest, at least. It would be easier overall not to have to face her in this condition, easier not to have to turn her down, reject her kindly gestures of affection, duty, and friendship. And for what? To keep her at arm's length, to keep her from getting too close, from getting hurt... or so that's what he told himself.
His fingertips knotted in the sheets that were thrown over him and he began to immediately pull them off. She would not leave if he remained in bed... so it was time to get up, regardless of how heavy his limbs felt, how foggy his head still felt, or how strained every muscle in his body felt.
"I am fine, Elena-san. You can go now." The tone in his voice suggested that she had long since overstayed her welcome, even if that were not entirely true...
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Elena placed her hand against the mattress and pushed herself up into a sitting position as well. She could just make out Itachi's silhouette in the darkness. There was no way that his words could be true. Maybe if she hadn't been there, he could've pulled it off. Elena would've went home, or more likely, to her office to make her own report. But she'd seen it, even if it was at her own insistence.
She took a breath...and promptly laid back down. "I think I'll stay here for awhile. You bed's more comfortable than mine is." A pause. "Maybe because my bed is actually a couch." Might have something to do with it. She continued watching him closely, even as her mouth moved the way it normally did. "Anyway, I'll just wait here until you're ready to finish recovering." Defiant.
"It's important that we have accurate data regarding recovery time, you know. And it's up to me to make sure that we do...otherwise, I just have to find out for myself next time." Another pause and then a faint, tired smile. "Like I said, my couch isn't even comfortable for one person, much less two."
"So...I'll wait." Elena repeated the words, but this time they seemed less about the immediate situation and more about him in general. She was learning, adapting to the pain that he was causing while trying not to hurt her. And she found that she could endure it, however long it took him to realize it. But always in the back of her head, that hopeful voice that whispered, maybe today.
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Pushing himself up from the bed, dropping the sheets between them as a makeshift barricade preventing her from reaching out toward him or trying to keep him in bed, he added, "I feel just fine. I'm recovered enough."
It was a lie, of course, but he'd always been adept at weaving them, whispering them, and even speaking them with forceful conviction. And if it kept her at arm's length, even better. He didn't want her too near to him, not after waking up next to her, too. He wasn't certain he could withstand her touch... because a touch would send his pulse soaring, would cause an electric current to rip through him, over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. A touch would be too much, and right now it was not something he was prepared to handle.
Give him the Mist any day. It wasn't a woman that prompted a complicated series of emotions to cloud his judgment.
His eyes searched the dark for his shirt, found it folded and off to the side on a small table against the wall, and he started toward it. "There are things I need to do, besides. Unlike some people, I don't have time to spend playing hedonist in bed."
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He surely couldn't mean her, but Elena knew that he did. A hedonist, her, who'd always given herself away, a thousand little sacrifices that benefited her in the most miniscule ways. Only a handful of hours ago would she have given anything to take his suffering away. She certainly didn't want to see it, but his needs outweighed hers.
A masochist, maybe. But a hedonist?
Still, to be able to see him, hear his voice regardless of the words he says...maybe she was a little self-indulgent in that. She moved from the bed, crawling across it so that she could stand beside the table, but not blocking his path. Her head was bowed.
"If I leave..."
Elena frowns, but makes a quick decision.
"If I leave, will you lay back down? I want to stay, but if me being here causes you so much pain, then I'll go. Just...give me your word that you'll rest."
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"Whether you stay or go does not change the fact that I have things to get done," he told her, tugging on his shirt over his head, and then glancing over at her as she came to stand next to him. Not blocking his way, but...
...still too close.
He took a step back, eyes roaming the surface of the stand for the hair tie that usually bound back his hair, but it was nowhere in sight. The floor, maybe? No, not there, either... at least, not around the table.
A scathing glance was given to the tangled sheets still atop the mattress. Somewhere amidst that mess, perhaps? Knowing his luck, more than likely. So he started back toward the bed, frown deepening as he began to straighten the array of covers, attempting to make sense of it.
"My hair tie... did you see it, Elena-san?"
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She repeated the words softly, not actually giving them any thought. Her mind was still on other things, confusing things, worrisome things. He was pushing himself...really pushing. And for what reason? Did he really have something so important to do? Or was he just that desperate to--
"Hair tie." Elena blinked and stepped over to the bed, her hands smoothing the surface of it. She couldn't remember the last time she saw it. She didn't really care, for that matter. It was such a trivial thing within the big picture of the last 24 hours. But he was looking for it, so naturally she would help him.
"I don't know if I took it out or..." She trailed off and shook her head. Maybe she did take it out. Was his hair even still tied back when he arrived home? She couldn't remember that either.
There had been more important things on her mind.
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"Don't worry about it," he sighed, shaking his head back and forth dismissively. "I can do without it." As he could do without a lot of things, or so he liked to pretend.
His shoes, at the side of the bed where they had been left, and not at the front door where he was so used to keeping them, were picked up and held at his side as he started for the bedroom door. His mind, much like Elena's, was a whirlpool of annoying, confusing thoughts, and indeed, he wanted very much to escape it, get as far away from it as possible before he was sucked down to the bottom and unable to escape.
After all, he was a shinobi... a man equipped for dealing with the hardships of being a spy and a killer... not the hardships that came with mundane life, such as a woman worrying needlessly-and in his mind it was needlessly-over him. He was... fine. He could see straight, he could walk on his own two legs, he wasn't bleeding out of every orifice...
...although he could feel the strain, like a rope pulled tight, the threads unwilling to stretch any further. He was still tired, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself... to Elena.
"Go home already. As you can see, there is absolutely no need for you to be so concerned."
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"It...doesn't really work that way." Yes, she could see him breathing, moving, speaking words that should be reassuring, if abrupt. If only it could be as simple as flipping off a light switch. But it wasn't. The fear hadn't let go of her. If she went home, she would just keep picturing him hurting, laying somewhere alone this time. Like a wounded animal that crawled off somewhere to die.
She breathed out and lifted her eyes to him, hurriedly reaching for her jacket, her shoes.
"I'll stay out of your way. But I want to go with you."
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He twisted the door knob and opened the door, then started out into the hall without looking back again. The rest of the apartment was dark, but being so early in the morning, that wasn't out of the ordinary. Everything where it should be, nothing out of place... except for him and his house guest, it seemed.
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Elena was glad that he didn't look back. She tried to keep her steps quiet but quick behind the ninja. A little rest the night before would've been helpful for what was to come. She knew that even injured, even with her speed, he would be a challenge to keep up with.
She wasn't quiet because she was surrendered. Just the opposite, Elena was determined and there was simply nothing left to say, not if he insisted on continuing. But if he did, it would take something far more drastic than harsh words and cold looks to deter her.
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Or... was that only what she wanted him to believe?
He glanced back at her before turning to face her directly, his dark eyes unfathomably deep and concentrated solely upon her.
"I need time to be alone right now," he told her, slicing in half the silence that had been building up between them. "I know you are worried, but I need this... more than you could ever understand."
Though he wanted to keep his distance, he took a step closer toward her, instead.
"Do this for me... allow me this one thing... and you have my word that I will make it up to you, Elena-san." Another step closer. "I will make it up to you in a way you see fit, even. Just let me leave this once, to get my bearings, to take care of some things... that's all that I ask."
Because he needed to sort through what had happened out in the Mist, and what was happening to him now... He felt different. Still exhausted, but somehow... more alive than before, too.
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But he was asking her for this, almost desperately. And maybe he did know himself better than she did. And he was the one coming closer to her this time. It was a dirty trick. Elena lowered her eyes from his, but it still wasn't enough. Her head was battling her heart, and only one could win.
Elena nudged up the sleeve of her jacket, revealing the white shirt sleeve underneath. She ripped a piece of it off and offered the scrap of fabric to him.
"I remember the pain that long hair can be sometimes. You can tie it back with this for now."
Her lips barely moved with the words. She kept her eyes downcast, already unhappy with her decision.
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