Anti-OTP: Orsino/Zara

[thefoodoflove]

*he's in love with love-- that much is obvious-- but love is painful, isn't it? and that's what he's contemplating now, the pain that his love brings him; he knows it well, this pain, after so many years--*

*he sighs, a heavy, heartfelt sigh*

Comments

[russet_goddess]

*Zara hates love--it's stupid, it's wasteful, it allows people to wallow in themselves; and, besides, you can't make the decision. love's more powerful than she is, and that's more than enough reason to hate it with every passion*

*so Orsino's sigh earns him a short, disgusted snort*

[thefoodoflove]

*a second, a beat, and the spell's half broken-- he looks over at her, to her and then at her, in that way that men do when they're accustomed to being allowed to sneak such glances*

Some ill, lady?

[russet_goddess]

*she gives him an openly disagreeable look, that accents the sharp angles of her face* What're you mooning about, then?

[thefoodoflove]

*(is he not always mooning? is it not always--) but he is not prepared enough to be offended, and so he motions idly* One as yourself.

[russet_goddess]

*takes one split-second to understand, and then laughs, short and hard, as she sits, folding up her corners and positioning herself in the most defencive manner possible* Oh, are you?

[thefoodoflove]

*a small smile, the sort that leads more impressionable ladies to believe that they are sharing some secret vow* Ay, most truthfully.

[russet_goddess]

*...no one could ever call Zara 'impressionable'* And I suppose she doesn't give a damn about you?

[thefoodoflove]

*...yes, well* *another sigh, but with a bit of the same smile, as though it is partially for her benefit (part of love is the show of love)* Nay, no lady doth; that I am a poor soul, and starving in the very middle of a world o' feast.

[russet_goddess]

Some people think the food's bad, y'know.

[thefoodoflove]

Such are those have ne'er tasted it.

[russet_goddess]

Oh, really? *glares at him* I know what it's like, and it's damned stupid, that's what it is.

[thefoodoflove]

'Tis no dalliance, ay, but pricks and pains and the calls of a heart so wronged-- but when wronged hearts can love yet, 'tis then a most celebrated love.

[russet_goddess]

Shut up! Y'don't know a thing about it! *unfolds from her defencive position slightly into one of distraught anger, leaning forward fiercely*

[thefoodoflove]

Do I not? Have I not the pain secreted so deeply in my heart, like some sickness, and all for such a sweet disease as love?

[russet_goddess]

It's not a sweet disease! It's stupid and it hurts! It makes people act like idiots, especially people like you, because y'don't understand at all! It's not like people say it is. It just makes things different. It makes things mean other things, and you think you'd die for somebody because y'believe in him, and then you find out it's because you want him to kiss you, and you can't tell him that pretty as you please, can you? And then everything hurts, and everything's stupid! And if he does find out, it all goes wrong, and in the end y'can't even talk to him, and what's the good of that? I hate love!

[thefoodoflove]

Alas, to hate love! Lady, methinks you know not what you say-- 'tis a hated thing, ay, some vicious cycle, some poison to the will-- yet would other would you? What words without it would you speak, what thoughts think you?