Some might say waking up at five in the morning was a bit ridiculous, especially when one had no job or need to be up so early. That didn’t stop Ghislaine, however. For the past week she had been looking forward to today. Had been. Despite the fight that had occurred only days before, her ability to sleep in seemed to have disappeared entirely. That could have been attributed to the previous years of conditioning. Waking up before the sun was the only way to make sure she could get to surprise Connor with breakfast before he went for his morning run or work or whatever it was he did so damn early. It had become a tradition of sorts, much in the same way trying to drag him out of his flat for drinks to celebrate had. But that wasn’t the case this year. Instead, she simply lay in bed for the vast majority of the morning, unsure of what to do with herself. For while, the thought of saying to hell with it all and popping in for his birthday crossed her mind, only to pushed away after a short amount of thought. Perhaps she might owl him tomorrow, so as not to completely disregard it. He had made his thoughts painstakingly clear. After all, who wanted to see someone like her on their birthday?
Just because the rest of her day had
gone nothing like it should have,
that didn’t mean Ghislaine would
continue to sit around. No, she would
treat it as any other Friday evening.
She would go to her favourite pub,
have her favourite drinks.
[ Even if it all was just
to keep herself occupied. ]
The familiar voice in her ear seemingly came out of nowhere. She downed the shot currently in her hand, that pleasing burn racing down her throat. “I wasn’t aware I was meant to be doing anything tonight, other than partaking in my usual exploits.” Turning in her seat to look at him, she raised an eyebrow slowly. “Stop in this morning? Why would I have done anything of the sort?” She did her best to keep her voice even, placing the small glass onto the table where it joined four or five more. “It wasn’t as though we had plans to do anything. Shouldn’t you be at work or whatever it is you do with your time?”
The short reply on her part doesn't come as too much of a surprise to Connor; not simply because he's know Ghislaine for long enough to know most of her moods, but because he knows how badly their last meeting went. The argument in his flat still rings in his ears if he lets it, the awkward silence that had hung in the wake of the door slamming after her, Renee's even more awkward questions he'd been unable to answer. It still throws him though, just a little-- enough that he doesn't respond immediately after he takes a seat for himself.
( Her reaction makes it apparent how f o o l i s h he was to think it would be easy.
No matter how much he'd hoped things would just fall back into place once again.
Had he simply grown so used to their friendship that he'd stopped trying? )
Even when Connor does speak again, it's not to her, but to the wizard who's just appeared behind the bar. There's a pause before he gives his order, because honestly, the act of ordering so willingly feels a little foreign to him. He's done it before, many times, but with his work and his need for control, not that often. Yet what other way can he hope to approach Lainey but on equal levels? He can compromise this much if it's what it takes to mend the foundations of the long years of their friendship. Somewhere along the way there's a voice nagging that's just what he's never done -- compromised. Yet it's never been easy for him; to just l e t g o. To let someone hoist a little of his tight control of his life from him. With every day planned, every hour accounted for, Connor simply isn't g o o d at living in the moment or breaking away from what he has planned.
"Don't throw words back at me, Laine." He finally replies, though not until his own glass has been set in front of him. "-- And you know as well as I do what I'm like when I get riled up. That's not what I meant." But there's no anger to his voice, not like last time, just a quiet resignation. The last thing he wants is another fight, even less what he wants is for her to simply refuse to try and mend things. Connor seems to have enough people he cares for turning on him these days-- and with all that he can, he hopes Ghislaine isn't one of them.
( War is a messy business --
not the kind that one can handle alone. )
The first sip of his drink is bitter, and really, it seems like it couldn't be more fitting for his mood. He's never been one to rely on alcohol for confidence boosts, but he can't help but think he might in this moment. Connor has no idea where this will go or what will be left of their friendship when things have run their course. He's given up being able to understand Lainey anymore, though days ago he'd have claimed to know her down to the last freckle.
( Had he been kidding himself about knowing her this whole time? )
Connor isn't sure what's worse -- her genuinely forgetting his birthday or remembering and choosing to avoid him anyway. Yet now doesn't feel like the time to battle out over petty arguments. Clearly there have been rifts forming in their partnership for a while now, cracks in the ice that have run deeper than either of them realised before. In the choice on sink or swim, Connor is doing his best to swim now. "My mistake then. I just thought years of tradition might be enough to trump an argument." He says, but--
I m i s s e d you--
he means.
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