and you look so beautiful when you don't give a damn

[axemeaquestion]

Who: candyasss, axemeaquestion
When: WAY BACKDATED TO September 8th
Where: Rochelle's (now old) apartment
Summary: This is super backdated to back when Nick and Rochelle were fighting. Nick's got some explaining to do, Ro doesn't wanna hear it. HILARITY ENSUES except it doesn't.
Warnings: Possible cursing, allusions to sexual stuff?

Comments

[axemeaquestion]

If she had to be fair, Nick could be days late for all Rochelle cared. She had nothing to say to him. She said all she wanted to say during their shouting match those few weeks ago. He lied to her (... to her, anyway, they never really did talk about what they were and there was nothing for Nick to lie about), he was an asshole, she was done playing that game, and she was done with him. The only thing she hadn't said was that she was an idiot for not remembering what she was getting herself into.

For letting him make it hurt.

Still, he kept calling her back after she kept hanging up on him at work. For as angry as she still was at him, Nick of all people being that stubborn about walking to talk, even she had to realize he must have had something important to say. At least, something HE thought was important. She still wasn't really in the mood for listening.

When Rochelle opened the door she was still on her Blackberry-shaped NV. The phone was still between her shoulder and her ear while she was unbuttoning a white button-up blouse. A tank top was underneath, as well as several bandages from her not-too-long-ago run-in with the Darkness. Hell, there were still scratches on her face, near her eye. And speaking of those, as soon as she saw him she was quiet. Silently looking at him. It really had been a while since she has seen him, she realized. It was only a few weeks, but they saw each other a lot more often than that. After a beat of silence then there was a tinny little voice coming out the end of the phone, prompting her to talk again.

"--Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Hey, I have to go. I got company." She turned around and walked back in without another word to Nick. "I'll talk to you about it later." Beat, then she laughed. "Okay, okay. Bye, Peter."

She hung up.

Hey, awkward silences! Man, I love those.

[candyasss]

And Nick just paused dead in his tracks, staring at her as she stared back a moment. He took in the bandages and the scrapes and almost-- wanted to ask what had happened, but shit. He felt like an idiot, but the words had died on his tongue, just... absolutely died. He thought this'd be easier, but Nick didn't have practice at apologizing and not more than a sorry.

He waited for her to end her call and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "I... uh."

Shit. Where was the smooth talker when he needed him, huh?

"You get yourself into some trouble, Rochelle?" Asked as he eyed the bandages on her, shifted his weight a little bit.

[axemeaquestion]

The mood she had when talking to her co-worker suddenly died as soon as they hung up, and Rochelle decided she was way too sober for this. When she looked back, she only glared at Nick and the question as she made for the fridge.

It was a little island of the kitchen, connected to the living room and only seperated by a change in flooring. Rochelle opened the fridge and pulled out one of those cheap bottles of Hurricane mix. She was saving for that car in those brochures and magazines, so even now whatever alcohol she had still wasn't exactly the fancy expensive shit.

"Mmmhmm," Finally an answer, even if it was curt and brisk "That happens when those big bastards at night flip the van over."

And that was all she felt like explaining about it. After she got herself a glass and headed for the couch again. She flopped on the couch. One hand grabbbed that brochure she was looking at before, the other had her drink.

She didn't look at him.

[candyasss]

Well, alright. He might have normally asked her to elaborate a little more than that, but she was clearly barely in the mood to talk.

He peered absently at the brochure, but... hey, he doubted he'd get more than how she's looking for a car or something, so Nick decided to take a step closer to her, looking down at her.

"Okay, Rochelle, I get it... you're still pissed. I don't blame you, alright?" He shrugged. "But can we talk at least? I just--"

He hated this fucking part. "I wanted to apologize, alright?"

SORRY FOR ALL THE EDITS breaking up is hard to do

[axemeaquestion]

Rochelle glared again into the brochure. For a good long time, she was silent. 'Barely' in the mood didn't even start covering it. Every little thing he said had her immediantly wanting to kick him out and never deal with him again. Hell she'd do it literally, too. Still. Mr. Candyass Fancy Suit of all people wanted to talk after what happening? This HAD to be something worth listening to, right?

Too bad the temper she was fighting back didn't convince herself very well, though. But if anything, she begrudingly convinced herself to talk back.

"You wanna talk? Oh, EXCUSE me, Fancy Ass. Go ahead because I already told you everything I wanted to say. I thought 'screw you', 'I'm not playing this with you anymore', and 'go find another girl to fuck around with' was clear enough--" Finally she looked at him. If anything on her face it was obvious, it was that she wasn't mad. Oh no, she was FURIOUS. "--But I could say it again if you didn't catch it."

But then hearing what sounded like the start of an apology sudenly made her halt. If only a little her expression softened. She hesitated, but decided to reign back that second 'fuck you' she planned to listen. Nothing else was said, Rochelle only looked at him.

That's when Nick had her attention. She's listening, bud.

[candyasss]

He gritted his teeth against that look she gave him, the anger plain on her face and in her voice, and he wanted to protest. He was half expecting her to just toss him out any second, really, and that'd put a serious halt to his plan to apologize, to explain himself a little.

But looked like the start of the apology stopped her for a second and damn if Nick wasn't taking a good opportunity when it presented itself like that. He shifted a little bit, shrugging his shoulders.

"Look, alright. I deserve it. I get that. But I didn't-- I like you, alright? But I ain't exactly had the best relationships. Been married once and she was a nightmare. Believe me, you'd be swearing'em off too if you had to deal with that bitch. Still we've been getting closer and closer... I freaked. I was doing the same thing I said I wasn't gonna do again and I reacted bad when I heard the 'C' word." Or rather 'couple stuff', whatever.

[axemeaquestion]

"Oh, I believe you. And I know your wife's a bitch." Was that laugh bitter? Oh, yes it was. Her Hurricane got sat on the table. She suddenly wasn't in the mood for drinking. "You wouldn't stop saying she was a bitch back in the Infection."

Or a Witch. Whatever.

But despite that she initially reigned herself back to let him talk, she was starting to regret it. She listened, and the hurt in her face was instant. She'd been good about keeping her eyes on him, WANTING him to know how angry she was, but almost immediantly she looked away.

She got it. She didn't want to, but she got it. But it still goddamn hurt. She just didn't want to say it.

"And... and what? One bitch messes with your head that badly and I'm supposed to be okay with what you said? With you implying I was just some goddamn half-year fling?"

She didn't want to say it, but... oh, god dammit.

"Because... shit, Nick, do you know how much that hurts? That STILL hurts? You know I'm pissed! I'm pissed that you said what you said, I'm pissed that we did what we DID for THIS long and we didn't even talk about what we were, and I'm pissed I..." She shut her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to. She knew how to do it, but every time she felt like she had to admit to weakness. You know, that whole independent woman bullshit. And wearing her heart on her sleeve wasn't something she liked to do very often. But if she wanted them to start being honest with each other and make it work (god, if she even wanted to make it work anymore)? She knew she needed to do it too.

"... And I'm pissed at myself that I care enough about you that I even let you break my heart."