◦ ✶. ◦.˚・ﾟ✧ KALLUS.
The line between disappointment and disownment was one that he’d been walking long before the news had broken. His relationship with Maketh had left a sour taste in the mouths of his parents, and though his brother had voiced his support, Nero’s opinion had mattered little ( funny, how wanting to please his father had impacted how he received comfort from others ).
Tiberius had been distant since then, only acknowledging the minister when they shared the same bed, abruptly leaving when all was said and done. Ignored calls, messages, hand pulling from hers when she tried to lace their fingers together in the moments they had alone – he liked to think that, soon, he’d be able to disentangle himself from her with little fuss ( it wasn’t as if there was a thread holding them together, after all ).
Then she’d told him of the bastard – of their child.
It wasn’t in person, instead told coldly over one of the calls he’d cared to answer. He’d hung up soon as the words had fallen from her lips, taking the time to mull over the weight of it all. He could ignore it, of course – he’d already ruined what had been their relationship, and begun repairing what had been broken between he and his father. The other options weren’t so pleasing: ask her to get rid of it, demand her to get rid of it – neither of which she’d do anyway.
In the end, however, he decided to at least acknowledge it.
He’d strode into her office, rather unannounced, a bottle of Corellian wine in his hand. “Minister,” he greeted, all formality and no pleasantry. His gaze flickered to her stomach, still flat, before it lifted to meet her own. “I believe… A celebration is in order?”
She’d been treading upon black ice for quite some time now, and she knew it; he was a temptation and a void, a promising path with all the glamour and appeal that a deceiving dead end can contain. When her mouth met his that first time, she’d dove head first into waters that she hadn’t realized she’d never resurface from. It was a chaotic, downward spiraling notion that had started off so kindly, so innocent. Never once in those charming smiles was a warning spelled between teeth, the allusion of appeal had been such a thick curtain then. He was the renowned and heroic Agent Kallus, the empire’s golden boy held with high esteemed by his reserved and outrageously wealthy family. ( But gold, gold is brittle and cold -- it holds no warmth and neither did he. ) And while she pegged him as someone bold, never had she thought of him as someone prone to abandonment.
Little by little, he left her. Distancing, daresay repulsed. It was not supposed to best her; young, ambitious, but ignorant to this turbulent game of politics. ( Have you forgotten your lessons? Bedded by your first year and suddenly pour all your devotion and trust unto one soul? ) Had all of this -- had she just been a source of temporary relief, amusement to cure his boredom? No, no, he’d never. But little by little, the resentment brewed. He’d lured her, used her, made a fool of her without any means of gain. It was all because he could. Her eyes had brimmed at the revelation then, but those thoughts would not allow any tears to be produced. It was rage, rage at his abarasiveness and her naïveté.
The gods play their own funny little games though, don’t they? And they, too, conjure cruel tricks and methods to get a rise out of people again and again.
How many times had she tried to contact him in that single day alone? Four, five times perhaps? All ignored. She knew, she knew he was aware of the ringing comm link; fingers no doubt deliberately hovering over with the temptation to cancel the connection. Now it had been her turn to be the abrasive one and announce that his idiocy had gotten her pregnant. She’d savor the split second reaction, the horrified and astonished silence, had he not abruptly ended the transmission then and there. And with that, any and all forms of contact with it in the week following.
So when he comes striding in, arrogance gleaming in subtle manners and liquor in hand, she doesn’t spare him the bewildered expression he probably came looking for. Why else would he be here -- but to ravish at girlish and hopeful looks of relief from her? No, she knew better. She was certain this was a ploy, an intent to mock the situation. Were he not who he was, she had half a mind to summon security. But damn him, Correllian brands are expensive and he can purchase them by the shelves by tossing credits like pebbles in a lake. And she can’t even enjoy a lick of it.
❛ Agent Kallus. ❜ she retorts, wryly and purposely averting his gaze. At the mention of celebration, she’d like to kick herself for glancing up almost instantaneously. Luckily, her expression remains unimpressed. ❛ Unless you intend to drink that entire bottle in my office, right here and now, you’ll have to withhold opening that for ... I’d say, according to my last appointment, another thirty-two weeks. But of course, I wouldn’t want to cause yet another inconvenience for you. ❜
