Comments | elegante_log: If I can stand up to angels and men

notwhatiwas in elegante_log

If I can stand up to angels and men

Jul 26, 2010 10:11

Characters: Vincent Valentine [notwhatiwas] and Lucrecia Crescent [intimacyphobic]
Location: Lucrecia's Room [Deck 07, 6366]
Date: July 23rd, after this.
Rating: PG-13

( I'll never get swallowed by darkness again. )

lucrecia crescent, vincent valentine

Comments 12

intimacyphobic July 26 2010, 17:22:35 UTC

Lucrecia jumped, looking up from the bath she was drawing. Cleaning her room had been a total disaster, and while most of the marshmallow was up, there were some spots that just had to wait as the sticky was too much for her to bear. She made a face as she threw on some clothes. "Just a moment!"

Racing for the door, she remembered the earlier incident. "Fool me once..." Standing on tiptoes, she peeked out through the little used peephole... and clapped a hand over her mouth. There was quite a bit of muttering and banging her head against the door. Was that even...? What was...? She checked again to be sure.

No, not possible. Not possible. Not after the visit she had had the other... But... So maybe... So... Her brain shattered into tiny pieces and she flung the door open, fear in her eyes and smile on her lips, wondering if the past few weeks had all been a bad dream. "Vincent?!"

notwhatiwas July 26 2010, 17:46:51 UTC

As it turned out, seeing her without being able to hear her heart pounding or smell her fear was more difficult that Vincent had been expecting. There was just such a staggering difference between being human and being whatever the hell he'd bee turned into, that amalgamation of death and monsters Hojo had wrought deep underground so many years ago, that switching from one the other was whiplash-inducing no matter the direction ( ... )

intimacyphobic July 26 2010, 18:51:51 UTC

She wanted to scream, wanted to take a step back, but, oh, Minerva, she couldn't. There he was, human to her eyes, Chaos gone, thirty years reversed, the Vincent she knew and cared for... There was his scent of musk, mythril and a breath of alcohol. She ached, she burned, she wanted to die of shame the way his presence clashed against his question. She knew what he wanted to know, could easily guess what Veld had said--the same thing she herself had concluded after that fateful visit--and if she told him where the work was headed, if she told him the truth, he would be gone forever. Some things could never be forgiven ( ... )

notwhatiwas July 26 2010, 19:31:52 UTC

He moved in closer, listening but not wanting to hear it, not wanting to listen, hating the way what she said matched up so well with Veld's half-unsolicited explanation. That in experimenting on him she saw a chance to save his life, and to complete the project she and his father had never had a chance to finish.

...No. It couldn't--she wouldn't. But he knew the look on her face, recognized the way her words tumbled out. She wasn't lying, per se, but she clearly didn't want to talk about this.

Which meant that she already knew. She'd already realized--

No. He wouldn't believe it, couldn't accept it. Couldn't believe that this beautiful, brilliant woman would ever hurt him, ever use him the way all signs said she had ( ... )

Thread 12