Rp: To market, to market

[shh_michael]

Date: 16 January 2005
Characters: Michael Corner, Orla Quirke
Location: Market
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Michael and Orla run into each other and catch up.
Completion: InComplete

Not that the unusual cold snap was over, Michael found himself wanting to spend more time outdoors. Which is why he found himself at the market for the first time in ages

Comments

[shh_orla]

"You're male, you can't help it." She muttered absently, closing her eyes. "I can't talk to him about it, because he didn't want it in the first place, and I promised I wouldn't let this change things, or stop being his friend, but..." She trailed off. She wasn't a good enough actor to pretend it didn't matter, or that it hadn't changed things. She honestly hadn't thought it would have been so....catacylsmic. If it hadn't been, maybe she could have gone back to treating him with the fond affection, but not now, knowing how it felt to be so intimate and utterly swept away.

"Logically, I know I do. Or at least I know I'm more willing to feel things. He doesn't want a relationship, didn't even want a casual shag." She swallowed past a lump in her throat.

She conceded that he had a point. "Maybe. I don't know. The only experience I have to draw from is Miles, and he was back the next day because he said he did have feelings for me. So how is it possible for it to ever be without emotion? I mean, even when I met that bloke in London this summer, there was emotion. Granted, it was self-loathing, but that counts, right?" She took another swallow of ale.

"But it doesn't have to be that way, does it? I mean, people are friends with benefits all the time, and they don't get overwhelmed by emotion." She took of her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "Lucky people."

[shh_michael]

"Well, pardon me for saying so, but that was a stupid promise to make. Not that I blame you, lass, and promises made when you're dying to get into someones pants are often stupid. How were you know know what you would feel after? And unfortunately, sex does ruin friendships, it happens all the time. Either it didn't go well because there just wasn't enough chemistry or it went too well, and one or both of you is terrified that you let them see that vulnerable part of you that you keep to yourself most of the time.

"It is possible," he said. "Trust me on that. Maybe you're not built for sex without emotion, but there are plenty that are. It's just a physical thing. An itch to scratch, aye?"

"Not lucky," he said, looking away. "Or not as lucky as you think, anyway. Your mistake was thinking that you were capable of a being a fuck buddy to someone who's already got to your heart. And not only that, to someone whose heart is bruised. If you'd really wanted just sex, you'd have gone to someone like me, who you don't care for that way, and who's incapable of offering more. Don't try to fool yourself into thinking you didn't want more, because obviously you did. I understand; being vulnerable is terrifying. You can either choose to avoid it, like I do, or you can choose to risk it. Personally, I'm rather proud of you for taking that risk."

[shh_orla]

She nodded, knowing she'd gone and blown things. Even if she'd made the promise after the fact. Her itch had been more mental, an overwhelming curiosity about what seemed to drive people. Itch, indeed. More like bloody Pandora's box.

She looked at him. "You are too capable of more. If you weren't you'd have blown things with Marietta or Dennis by now. Neither strike me as being people who settle just for the sake of sex. They see in you what you don't see in yourself. And I bet they're both waiting for you to realize it, and do the right thing we all know you want to do." Her voice was starting to slur from the ale.

She shook her head, feeling a bit too relaxed, throughly soused. "Shouldn't have risked it. Maybe before he'd have decided that he wanted me like that, but now I'll never know. S'stupid of me to let him get to me like that. Should've been happy with the toy he gave me. Stupid stupid stupid." She said emphatically, sinking lower into the cushions.

[shh_michael]

Michael frowned as she analyzed him, not sure if she meant it as a compliment or an accusation. Or maybe this was the extent of the scolding he was going to get.

He probably shouldn't have been so blunt with her, in his head it had sounded more like logic than harsh reality, and he was scolding himself for pushing her to dreink when she obviously had no head for it and then ruthlessly taking away her hope. Hearing her call herself stupid made him feel so bad that it took a few moments for the precious sentence to register. He pulled her out of the cushions and toward the table, where he thrust a glass of water in front of her.

"Listen, love, no more beating yourself up for doing something brave and reckless. And no more drinking until we get some steak in you, and....a toy? Like... a dildo or something? He bought you a fake cock?" It took him a few minutes to regain his composure, he was trying not to laugh. "Sorry, lass, but you must have scared the living piss out of him if he was trying to send in a motorized stand-in."

[shh_orla]

She obediently drank the water, knowing she needed to hydrate the way she was feeling. She sat down again, hard, when the room began to wobble.

"Why not? I'm not the bloody Gryffindor, he is. I'm just the Ravenclaw who....who thinks she knows enough to not mess up like this." She said emphatically, reaching for the cheese.

She groaned, lowering her head to the table. She really didn't intend for that to come out. Oh, bugger piss arse shite and fuck. When she heard the waver of laughter in his voice, she looked up at him, and at his words, burst into tears. He had tried to put her off, hadn't he? She just didn't take a hint. No wonder he'd tried to be considerate. Stupid Orla, thinking his gesture was something it wasn't. He'd tried to break the truth gently, but she hadn't wanted to listen. She tried to stand, feeling more humiliated than any other time in her life, and she moved towards where she thought the door was. She had to get out of there. Damn and blast these stupid emotions. Why had she thought she needed to feel loved? She had enough of it if it hurt like this.

[shh_michael]

As she made her way to the door, Michael panicked, and drew her back, sitting her back on the chair and kneeling before her. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry, I didna mean to embarrass you. I'm making a mess of trying to cheer you up, but let me make it perfectly clear, love. You didn't mess everything up. You went after what you wanted in spite of the risk. That's the most admirable kind of bravery there is. Even if it all goes to shit, you ought to feel extremely proud of yourself."

"I was laughing at him, love, not at you. I hardly know the man, so I canna pretend to know what's going on inside his head, but it seems to me that that's the act of a desperate man. And I do have some experience with the lengths you will go to to try and persuade yourself to not want something that scares you."

"You keep assuming that the issue is you, that there's something wrong with you, something that makes you undesirable or unlovable. I could spend years trying to convince you that you're wrong. It won't make any difference in the long run because I'm not who you want. But try and remember this; a woman is more than capable of faking enthusiasm in bed. With a man, it's not so easy. You were there; can you honestly tell yourself that he didna want to be there?"

[shh_orla]

She couldn't meet his eyes, both because she was still hiccuping back her tears, and because she was still too embarrassed. She pulled her wand, and tried to conjure a hankie, but all she was getting was bits of fluff. She used them anyway.

"Proud of what? Of begging? Of being the kind of person that others look at with pity? No thanks." She sniffled. She didn't have much pride to begin with, but when it came to relationships, she was all but running on empty.

"Desperate to escape." She mumbled. He meant well, but none of it was comforting in the slightest. "Doesn't matter if I want it or not. It'll still scare me."

She looked at her hands, resting on her knees next to Michael's, and sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. Might have gotten to the point where the brain was disengaged. I understand biology. I was just a better option at the moment compared to his right hand." He was a gentleman, that was all there was to it.

[shh_michael]

"Of knowing what you want. Of asking for what you want. You want to call that begging, I just call it taking a chance. Better that than being content with what people offer you. Christ, Orla, do you really think so little of yourself?" Michael shook his head, his frustration growing. You'd think she was Scots, as stubborn as she was. He tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. "My hands are tied here, there's only so much I can do to convince you that you're desirable without fucking everything up, but is there anything that will make you listen? Should I knock you upside the head with a bat?

She thought he did it out of pity. That certainly didn't gell with his memories of Weasley from school. The swamp, the fireworks, the complete lack of impulse control, the offer to stick a sharp object in Smith's ears to improve his hearing... Michael didn't think anyone could get either one of those mad twins to do what they didn't want to do. He took a chance and said, "Aye, I see. He was mechanical then. Selfish. Wham, bam, and thank you ma'am. Never told you you were beautiful. That you turned him on. Didn't ever meet your eyes, hold you close. Shouted out his old girl's name when he came, did he? Well, I'll just have to have words with him, I think. He really should have been taking care of you, making you feel special."

[shh_orla]

She squeezed her eyes shut. He was right. If she'd stopped her pity-party and calmly analyzed the facts, she'd have seen that by now. She opened her eyes to look at him, seeing the worry and impatience there. He made sense, she just didn't know what to think anymore. She said in a low tone, "I'm listening. Sorry for going all to pieces on you like that." She sniffed and swiped at her nose with the cotton, before attempting, with greater success, to conjure a hankie. She blew her nose, feeling a bit lighter in her head, but still dizzy. "May I have some more water, please?"

"He was wonderful." She whispered, more to herself. "I didn't know it could feel like that and now..." She sighed. She'd learn to live without. Her own fault. "He was none of things. Don't think I don't see what you're doing. And don't you dare go and talk to him. For all I know, you're the only person besides us who knows, and it needs to stay that way. Promise?" She'd gotten it off her chest, however conducive it had been, and now she was letting go, moving on.

[shh_michael]

"Dinna fash, yourself love," he said, chucking her chin and getting up to refill her water glass.

He smiled softly as her tone grew all cozy and intimate and female. Oh, yeah, she had it bad. Still, she seemed in a great hurry to write it off, didn't she? "And now you know what you've been missing and you won't be in such a hurry to settle for less."

"I promise, lass. I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place if you hadn't been so bloody determined to write it off as a disaster. Poor man's probably just as confused as you are. Give him time, will you?"