going nowhere fast

Breanah felt her eyes flutter closed, causing a slight hitch in her breathing as she felt their lips meet. It took mere willpower for her to not push this any further. It had become a nasty habit of hers in doing that, always rushing too fast, always ending up in a situation where the lust came first. This time would be different, she would make sure of that. When he pulled away that was all she needed and when he came back, much more gentle this time, she made sure to reciprocate, just as lightly. His kisses, even with the surprise of the first one, were different than what she had become accustomed to; they weren’t like the chaste ones she ended up with from Aedan or the rough, demanding ones that could have described her relationship with Malakai to a T, they were anticipated, they were welcome and they were almost as unsure as he was. It was she who pulled back this time, raising her eyes to meet his before she turned her head to the side to hide the rosy tint heading towards her cheeks. It took her a moment before she could look back at him, her hand finding it’s way to his chest and fingers curling only slightly before she raised herself to brush her lips against his, before lowering herself down.

“So…” she started, moving out of his reach to take a seat on his bed. Breanah didn’t know where to go next with her sentence. Did she even think about asking where he had gone? Would asking about why it took so long for this to even come to fruition be proper? “Is this goodbye or…?” she trailed off, hating herself for even letting that come out of her mouth but she had to address it somehow. “Just because…this happened doesn’t mean you have to leave. I’m not going to jump your bones in the middle of the night or anything.” She needed to stop herself before he turned and fled but it was her turn to ramble on and hope something of coherence came out. “Besides, outside of Marsh and I, this house is empty and it’s been-.” she cleared her throat, she wouldn’t dare add onto that sentence. Not now. “I won’t be offended if you do, I’d just prefer it if you didn’t leave. Again. I finally understand how it feels, I won’t be doing that anytime soon.” she joked with a dry laugh. “It wasn’t because you have a secret wife and kids right? I don’t want to be that other woman and take away from a family even if-” Breanah, no. Stop. “It’s just…just you and me right? No outside factor or anything?” Her last couple of questions came out softly, almost too embarrassed to even have thought that was a problem.

Breanah swallowed down a lump in her throat, looking down at her feet. This whole situation felt almost surreal to her, she hadn’t been this aware of herself in a very long time. “I-I do like you, you know. In that silly fifth grader like you like you sense.” She said it outloud, whether or not it was for him to hear, she didn’t know, but it was good to have it said aloud. It was one of the few things she had accepted since just after Christmas and doing so for someone else to hear gave her a new sense of relief. After what felt like forever, she turned to look at him, leaning back onto her elbows. “If…” it was a heavy if, one that had more outcomes than she wanted to admit, “if this…” she gestured between the two of them, “if this were to go any further…or…” she swallowed, “I don’t want to…” unsure of how to convey the right message. “I don’t want anything to affect our friendship negatively. That’s the important thing. I don’t have many friends left and losing one because I’m…not very good at things like this, I wouldn’t want that.”

#p #p: breanah #p: the pieces #ahh I got really exited #*excited #Nate has a lot of feels #and I have a lot of feels #we probably repeated a lot #but #as I said #feels

God, her lips were so soft. If he could spend a lifetime just kissing her, it would have been a lifetime well spent. He needed nothing else other than the feel of her warm, supple flesh against his, no matter whether it was hands against hands, lips against lips, chest against chest... not that this last one was a common thought. (Maybe it was.) Either way, he managed to hang onto the kiss, and the feel of it after he'd pulled away. His hands slid down her shoulders to her hands, managing less than a grasp before she pulled away to go sit down.

His first thought was: 'did I do something wrong?' Immediately his brain came up with a million apologies, a million excuses. Heat exhaustion (it wasn't hot), fatigue (he'd had a good night's sleep for once), food poisioning (that'd be the most believable), drugs (now he was just being stupid), as he turned to watch her leave his reach. He didn't want that. He never wanted her to be so far away, even though it was only a few steps. These pangs of high-school-crush pain weren't all that familiar to Nate, which was further leading him to believe this was more than what he'd been calling it.

"Goodbye...?" he repeated slowly, turning his body to face her. Hearing her go on only caused a chuckle to escape him as he flattened his palms against the sides of his thighs. His brain, too immature for his own good, came up with a few comebacks for that one, but he kept them to himself. It wasn't the time. Not right now, not when he was trying to sort out all the whirlwind emotions encompassing his entire being. Emotions he felt towards her. All good, however. He listened as she went on, taking a few steps towards her until he was about a foot away. "The house is empty?" he asked, blinking as he peered about. Perhaps Finn moved out. He decided not to really ask, since it wasn't exactly his business anymore, no longer being a tenant of this house. Swallowing hard, he let his gaze drift off to the side, licking over his lips nervously. He'd never really been in a situation like this, and these things felt so new to him. He didn't expect to ever feel them, despite wanting nothing more than to have something normal that belonged to him. But the more he thought on it, the more he realized-- Breanah was far from normal. She was extraordinary, a special being that surpassed even his own understanding, though that wasn't a hard feat to accomplish, considering how limited his understanding really was about most things. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the woman in front of him, the beautiful creature who he was sure held his heart in a jar somewhere in her kitchen.

Nathaniel crouched in front of her, falling to his knees and taking her hands in his. "I'm not leavin'," he started firmly, with a sure nod. "I don't wanna go anywhere. I wish I hadn't to begin with, wasn't worth it. Wasn't worth... losin' you," he mumbled, eyebrows coming together to top off the troubled expression on his face now as his eyes searched hers. "I ain't gonna let things go bad. I couldn't do that, 'cuz... you're... pretty much all I wanted, y'know?" Swallowing again, he paused to squeeze her hands, looking down to the two in his own. So delicate... he was almost afraid he'd break them if he didn't know just how strong Breanah really was. "You're just, y'know... perfect. All I wanna do is... is make sure you're alright, all the time. I wanna take care of you and keep you warm and make you laugh." Smiling finally, he lifted his head, bringing one of her hands to his lips to press a soft kiss to the pale knuckles. "Just, y'know. Make sure you're happy. If I gotta do that as just friends, then it's what I gotta do. But, yeah..." He couldn't even finish that, but he hoped to god she knew what he was implying.

#ooc post

kimmoonkyusgf-blog

#face #that 'wtf homework' expression

Picking Up The Pieces | Breanah & Nate

Breanah took a few deep breaths to steady her breathing. She closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten, readying herself to face whatever truth there was and not do something stupid. Here she was, reliving what could have been considered a scenario that played through her mind months ago, even before she realized what was going on. The brunette looked back up at him, eyes narrowing slightly. She had overanalyzed every single detail and yet, she had overlooked this one. Emotions were a funny thing and hers never worked out in the way she wanted them to in the moment she needed them to.

And then he started to speak. Not only that, to confess something and a part of her was scared. The last time this happened to her, she reacted the opposite way that she wanted to and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. The only problem was..she was completely flabbergasted by it. Breanah didn’t want to admit it but for once in his life, Xerxes was correct and she couldn’t very well voice that aloud. Instead, Breanah stared at him like a deer in headlights, processing everything before it got backed up and confused her even more. She looked away as he finished, arms falling limply at her sides. It did and it didn’t make sense to her, but then again, she had never been particularly good at this part. This part never came until she was already in a relationship and even then she had already assumed that she would be able to reciprocate it properly. That was never the case and this was an entirely different ballgame. Her first instinct was to tell him no and that what he was saying was wrong but she suppressed that in favor of making sure she understood everything.

Her head tilted to the side, looking up at him. It broke her heart a bit to hear him say those things about himself, shaking her head in disagreement. “Nate…” she started softly, wanting to stop him from continuing. She was a mixture of flattered and insulted as he continued, that wasn’t his decision to make, it wasn’t even hers. Breanah didn’t want him to feel that way, she didn’t want anybody to feel that way. She could only stand there and watch him, sympathy etched across her features, knowing that there wasn’t time for her to disagree with him on some of his statements. Breanah chewed on her lower lip, the smallest of smiles starting to tug at the corners of her lips. She took a moment to study him and his actions, getting closer than what could have been considered appropriate. She was thankful that at this moment she was just short enough that she didn’t even need to make too much of an effort to get in his line of eyesight. Breanah took her index finger and placed it under his chin, tilting it up just slightly to make sure she had his attention.

“Don’t apologize. That’s…really sweet. I’m flattered, really flattered and…” she trailed off, making sure she had his full attention. “Thank you.” Breanah took half a step closer, a hair’s breath away now, her own head tilted up just slightly, her nose crinkled up at him. She dropped her hand, blinking up at him. It was now or never and yet…she couldn’t muster up the courage to do so.

#p #p: breanah #p: the pieces #welp I am dead #and I'm sure this makes little sense #but my feelings were running rampant #and I was crying a lot #those are tear stains #not grammar mistakes

Nate's next intake of breath stayed in his lungs by force as he waited. He would have waited an eternity like this-- or for a few minutes, before he passed out from lack of oxygen to the brain. He'd said it, said all, or most, of what he'd wanted to say to Breanah. He'd voiced his fears, the fears that developed the moment he formed an attraction to Breanah. How long had it been since they first met? Since he first knew he felt something towards her? Had he acted on it the first moment he felt them, where would they be now? Would they be celebrating a month-sary with her soon? He always thought those sorts of things were silly, but he would have gladly celebrated every day with her.

When she stared, he couldn't bring himself to keep his eyes on her. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, spreading over the bridge of his nose, overtaking his ears. What would she say? A thousand different scenarios went through his brain. Most of them included her leaving, thinking him stupid or weird or perhaps both. Some of them included her throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight, and those made his heart jump up into his throat, made his nerves jumpy, causing him to squirm where he stood. But then he felt her tiny, delicate finger tilting his face, such a contrast from his own digits which were weathered by hard work and rough equipment. It caused his eyes to flutter to a near close, though they opened as he was sure it was what she wanted, to look down at the beauty before him. The angel he'd come to love.

...

Love? Is that what it was? Maybe. He wasn't entirely sure. He did know he felt strongly towards her, and... that was all he knew. It was all he needed, and when she said thank you, he remained motionless, expressionless, his big, blue eyes so wide as they examined her. "I..." No, he couldn't say anything. That one word came out cracked and hesitant. Look at her face, he thought. It was... perfect. Everything about her was perfect, to the way her brown hair, even now as it was wet, seemed to frame that soft face in the most perfect way possible that made her look... heavenly, to the way she carried herself when she was all business, and even how she moved her hair from her face when she was nervous. There was no other way to describe her. Her skin was so soft, he soon realized as his hands, of their own accord, lifted to cup her cheeks, thumbs stroking slowly and gently over her cheeks. "Breanah," he began again, breathily. But again, he couldn't continue. His heart was hammering in his throat, but that didn't stop his lips from advancing in one fell swoop, landing harder on hers than he wished. He couldn't help it, though. How long had he dreamed of this moment? How long had he wished he could do this every day, all day, for the rest of his life? They were such foolish notions, he knew that. It didn't stop him from wanting them, and it certainly didn't stop his lips from pulling from hers just to adorn hers with another kiss, feather-light and sweet, his hands falling from her face to instead grasp her shoulders.

nicole--whitman

Little talks ✔ Nate & Nicole

Sacred Circle was a bookshop that worked in more ways than books. For starters, it housed an impressively odd staff. Compared to the rest of the company that worked there, Nicole would only describe herself as dull, and them as their own sources of life, simmering with color. They seemed to be of a much different caliber than her, though this did not stop them from welcoming her with open arms. From the moment Nicole had stepped in to have an interview with the employer, she’d had a micro fascination with each of them. What had made — and still made — things work so splendidly since Nicole had started working there, was the fact that they seemed to have a fascination for her as well. In a weird way Nicole felt nervously excited about this, as the differences between her and the rest of the staff had quickly come to compliment each other. Yet that was not the only thing that had drawn her in.

For second, aside from the opportunity to rent or buy (or leave behind) books, the shop offered a plethora of herbs, of teas (much to Nicole’s happiness), and other peculiar objects that seemed only slightly out of the ordinary. The staff all seemed well-versed in everything the shop offered, and it was true Nicole felt a little insecure about her lack of knowledge of certain things — things that seemed… more occult, more strange — yet the strangeness of the shop altogether had also served to draw her into it. It was true that Nicole had a tendency to revert further into the bookshop, to stack and shelve books, and apart from her intricate knowledge on all the herbs (and most teas) the shop had to offer, she wasn’t seen much in the front of it. Occasionally, she would take the register when it was needed, though they all seemed content to let her work in the back, and guide people through the sections of the shop. The shop was small, so, after a week and a half, she’d learned the paths through the shelves quick enough.

The day in particular was not much different from any other day. Nicole turned up in the early afternoon to start re-shelving the books that had been set aside for her to do so, as her classes in school had ended just slightly after lunch. This was, perhaps, the most notable thing about the day; and Nicole found she liked having more time to spend in the bookshop very much. It didn’t take long for her to become immersed in her work, and after an hour or two, half the cart of books had been shelved. She stood at the beginning of one of the shelves almost at the front of the bookshop, a stack of books in her embrace — perhaps even one book too many. It wasn’t a problem, though; what was the problem, was the fact that there seemed to have been some kind of error. The shelf didn’t offer nearly enough room for the books that had been assigned to it, even if Nicole could somehow try and squeeze the books on it for more room. For a moment, she stood gazing at the shelf, sizing it up to try and measure if it didn’t just look smaller than it was — though after a moment of extended consideration, Nicole had to forfeit and put the books back onto the cart. She merely had to go through the labels of the stack and see which books had been marked wrong. That, in particular, had to wait, however, as Nicole had still had her gaze to the shelf when she’d absentmindedly moved to put the books back on the cart — instead of putting them in their previous spot, she’d somehow accidentally pried another stack out of the way, and thus caused it to topple over and cascade books onto the floor. The noise startled her, as she hadn’t expected it, and she ended up accidentally knocking down the stack she’d previously been holding as well. A quick and panicky glance about the area — as her face readily filled with color — didn’t give her nearly enough information to tell if anyone had seen or heard, or if anyone came rushing, as Nicole averted it too quickly, and hastened to bend to the floor to begin to scoop up the books. However, in her peripheral vision, Nicole could distinctly see a shape move toward the scene of the accident, and upon the sound of a voice, she forced herself to turn her gaze to the person. Funnily enough, the person she saw easily made her forget she’d just toppled over two stacks of books. Funnily enough, Nicole instead exclaimed, “Charles?” and moved to get up. Because it had been Charles. Well — at least for a few seconds. “Hey! I—” Nicole’s face had immediately lit up by the sight of her friend, though by the time she’d gotten up to properly greet him, the features in his face had changed to that of someone else. Though the similarities between Nate and Charles had always been eerie, Nicole had always seen, upon closer inspection, clear differences. These differences were standing out as if illuminated by the sun as she realized the person in front of her wasn’t Charles at all. Trailing off, the wide smile on her lips fading fast, Nicole realized that it was indeed Nate who stood before her. “Oh, wait, it’s— it’s you…!” A gazillion different thoughts and emotions exploded within her as she realized her mistake; mainly anxiety, panic, and worry. They all battled for the expression on her face as redness encased it. Darker and darker her face grew as she stared at him in silence, though it only lasted for a short moment. “I— hi! You’re not— I mean, oh as in… oh! Oh, hi, you’re uhm, I’m so sorry I called you the wrong— uh,” Nicole stammered, incapable beyond incapability to form a comprehensive sentence and apologize for the mistake. She wanted to do so, yet at the same time she worried that she’d somehow seemed disappointed to learn that he wasn’t Charles. People so often mistook the color in her face — what would stop Nate from doing the same? After all, they didn’t know each other too well. The need to apologize for the mistake, the need to apologize for what he could have interpreted her reaction as, clashed within her, and panic soon arose. “I— I mean, I didn’t mean ‘oh, wait,’ as in— you know, you—… n-not that it’s, uh, not nice to meet you too, I just assumed— actually, it’s really nice to meet you! Uh, I didn’t mean to insinuate that— that, uh… it isn’t, compared to Ch—uh, because, actually, it’s, it is really nice to meet you!” Acting entirely on impulse — a panicky impulse, wanting to make sure Nate hadn’t gotten the wrong idea — Nicole stepped up clumsily over a couple of books, and tip-toed to greet Nate properly in a hug. Realizing it might not have been the best thing to do, either, she quickly stepped back over the books, and fiddled anxiously with the ones in her hands. The color was still high in her face, and the wide smile was embarrassed to say the least. “I’m— I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to call you, uhm… when you’re— yeah, uh… I’m, I’m just going to, uh… nev—never mind! I’m, I’m sorry.” Embarrassed to be stuttering like a fool, Nicole stared at Nate for a short moment before an embarrassed chuckle escaped her. This was silly. She was being silly. He was her friend. Sort of. Kind of. Almost? There was no need to be embarrassed in front of friends. “I’m— I’m sorry, I’m… making such a fool out of myself, just— just ignore me,” she chuckled, and put a hand in the nape of her neck. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized she’d seen neither Charles nor Nate in a good while, and silently wondered what either had been up to. Seeing as she stood before the latter, she blurted out, “What— uhm— what have you been up to… lately? I haven’t seen you around!”

#p #p: nicole #p: little talks #o m g #w o w #I can never match your perfection #I tried v. hard #gave a valiant effort #but I am 200% sure i fall short #i bow to you #*bows*

Having been back for some time now, Nate found himself growing restless. The city of Alexandria had plenty to offer him, even now, though with his busy schedule, he'd never really found time to properly explore it. Sure, there were the regular hang-outs on the main streets and highways that ran through the city. That one Italian place whose subs he loved so well, a bakery he found made delicious cinnamon rolls, though not nearly as delicious as the ones he previously purchased from Breanah in Annapolis. There was the bar he'd work at during afterhours when he'd come home from the fire station with not a penny to his name, though he honestly hated the smell of cheap beer and sweat that seemed to have been absorbed by the old wood of the bar, its stools, and even the walls of the establishment. It was a smell he'd never miss, not in a million years. The scent of Breanah's hair fresh out of the shower? Always. But not that.

So today, after work, with his hair still sprinkled with sawdust, he took the afternoon for himself. His mood had been so high after his talk with Xerxes, and after settling in, that he'd even decided to splurge a little on himself. But for what? He had food, had enough junk to stuff his maw with when it was just him and the television in the early hours of night (and even the late ones). Movies were always a great choice, but he wanted to stray from the usual. He wanted something a little better for him and for his time, and mostly, for his brain, since TV turned it to mush, right? So he walked. He walked up one street, down another. He'd always choose streets he'd never been down before, names that sounded interesting, and sometimes he'd even pick a certain car that was easing past and follow it down whatever street it turned onto. Nathaniel was sure he'd never walked so much.

Finally, after checking the position of the sun in the sky, he released a short sigh and stopped in front of a shop. Sacred Circle, the sign said, and with a quick glance into the windows, he deduced that this was a bookstore. And it wasn't your average bookstore like Barnes and Nobles, where it was filled with people sitting at the ends of the bookcases, reading books they would never buy. With a smile, Nate opened up the door, greeted by a small chime, as he stepped inside. An employee nearby greeted him with a smile, one he returned as he stuffed his hands nervously into his pockets. People were always so nice, and he always felt so inadequate for some reason. This was really no time to think about his own shortcomings, however, since he'd decided to take this trip to get away from them. So he pushed the thought away and focused instead on the store he was in.

The atmosphere was quaint and intimate, and it was as if he'd stepped into someone's personal library. He really liked it. The shelves were neat and tidy, the titles easy to find, their shelving system so organized. He'd always enjoyed reading. He never did so much in his teenage years, since drinking and smoking pot had been much more hip than reading a book for recreation, and he now wished he'd picked up a book instead. Perhaps he'd haev a different life than he had now, he thought bitterly, but after a moment, he realized that life might not have included Xerxes or Breanah. Suddenly, how he'd lived up to this moment didn't seem so bad.

He was lost in his thoughts as he roamed between the bookcases slowly, scanning every title he came upon. There were several authors he recognized, and every so often he'd stop to slip a book from the shelf. Every time he did so, he'd rub his hands on the back of his jeans, as if they were dirty each and every time (the darkened skin on his hands made it feel as if he always had a thin layer of dirt covering his flesh). He found this experience very rewarding, and after about fifteen minutes of slow-going roaming, he'd gathered two books: a leather-bound copy of The Divine Comedy, which was something he'd secretly always wanted to own, and a collection of short stories by Neil Gaiman. He knew he was going over budget, but he didn't quite care.

Nate was ready to head out when he heard a crash from a row over which caused him to jump in alarm. Had he done that? Had he bumped the shelf, knocked some books over on the other side? Quickly, he moved around to the other side to see just what had happened. A woman with short, blonde hair, was looking quite distressed as she stood by a cart, piles of books at her feet. She must have dropped them. He felt bad for her, and there was a fight within him. Should he help her? Maybe she'd think he was being creepy, or trying to do something for his own gain. Wait, why should he care? He wanted to help her, so he should get over it and go help her. Which was what he did. As he got closer, however, he realized he knew this woman. It caused him to stop in surprise, though a smile quickly spread over his features. "Nicole?" he asked softly, as if he might get reprimanded for talking too loudly.

Of course, it was just his luck he'd be mistaken for someone else. It honestly wasn't the first time. He'd been out with Charles before, and Xerxes and Nicole and whomever else. Charles' girlfriend, he believed. And many times would someone joke about the two of them being long lost brothers, and even Nathaniel had to marvel at the similarties between them. They were purely physical, as far as he could tell, however. Though Nicole seemed ashamed of herself for not being able to tell the difference between him and Charles from a distance, Nathaniel only found it amusing, and her subsequent embarrasment endearing. "No, no... it's okay-- oof!" The hug was unexpected, and it nearly caused him to drop his own loot, though he chuckled softly and gave her a comforting pat on the back. "S'alright, Nicole, really. I know what'cha meant. Happens all the time, ain't offended by it or anything." At least he knew Nicole cared enough about their friendship to immediately attempt to rectify any mistake she might have made, despite it not really being a mistake in Nate's eyes.

"Been alright. Had to move out of state for a bit, up to Chicago. Long story," he said with a drawn out sigh, as if the thought of going through it all right here and right now was absolutely exhausting, though he immediately tacked on an extension: "I'll tell it someday, though." A short nod enforced this and his smile returned. "You need some help here? Sounded like an avalanche from the other side." He set his books down on the cart before stooping to carefully pile the books into his arms, one by one, all in one direction. He'd collected a good arm-full when he stood, unsure as to where he ought to put them-- so he just kept them in his arms. "I didn't know you worked here, or else I might'a been by a long time ago. Oh--" he stopped suddenly, eyes moving from the books in his arms to her, then to the cart, his features taking on an expression of worry. "You didn't hurt yourself, did'ya?"

U + Me = Us ♠ Naxes

Silence. Xerxes allowed himself silence; frosted with the beguilement Nate so enforced upon him with words, words that echoed of a different meaning and a raw pain Xerxes had known before. Yet, the degree to which Xerxes could pierce through the assurance Nate offered—“I think I’ll be alright”—was limited, for he had never felt Nate’s grief—a personal, living monster. He had plenty of his own, but he didn’t have Nate’s. Xerxes allowed Nate to say what needed to be said, to affirm what needed affirmation, and to contradict what needed contradiction, without question or judgment. All he did was sit and listen; he grieved, but it did not amount to the way Nate did.

As his friend continued to speak, Xerxes noted warily that there was more to his voice than just pain and sorrow. There was anger, too, directed at the victim rather than at the situation. Anger was a fairly common response, but it was the way it ignited through his friend—something he’d never seen before; he doubted Nate could even hurt a fly—that made Xerxes inch back a little lest the flames spread to him. His position gave him a different point of view, both figuratively and literally. From where he sat across the table as a friend, Xerxes saw the way Nate clenched his jaw and held back signs of weakness that were never truly weaknesses to begin with; from where he stood with the victim as a stranger, Xerxes was forced to disagree with his friend. He could not, for the life of him, blame a man who saw no other way to redeem himself. He couldn’t look at this man the way Nate described him, but rather as someone who needed help very badly—the kind of help neither Nate nor his family could give. But who was he to tell Nate, broken and hurting in front of him now, that the way he grieved was wrong? Who was Xerxes to say anything at all? He was nobody, at least in this situation; he allowed himself silence, and, for everyone’s benefit, to fall into the beguilement.

“Don’t apologize. You did all you can. It’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault, but the system; a system that… that made him think there was no other way out.” Xerxes shook his head. A pregnant pause echoed after his words and swallowed them whole. “I know it’s hard, and I wish there was some way to make it easier. I really, really do,” he continued, careful to choose his words, “but know… know that you aren’t alone. I’m here for you—if that helps. You aren’t alone in this.” Xerxes nodded to underline his words, kind and assuring. There was nothing else he knew how to say, so he remained quiet and allowed the silence to envelope them in piercing pain and comfort. After all, sometimes it was the pain felt that brought with it a silver lining.

#p #p: xerxes #p: u + me #yay I did it :D

He didn't mean to spill his heart out. It wasn't like him. It wasn't like him to show such weakness, to break down like he did. But all the emotion he kept inside, all the anger and the sadness, the bitterness, the regret, it just continued to build up like a heavy pressure in such a contained vessel, and it was only a matter of time before it burst from him and made its ugly presence known. He was just glad it was Xerxes that had to witness it, and not someone he wouldn't have been to trust, or worse, Breanah. While he trusted her with his life, he was always afraid of being too broken for her to care for.

With his gaze focused on the tabletop before him, he brought his hands to his lap, fingers clenching into fists. He hated Michael. Hated him, but missed him, all at once. He really did give up his life, twice. He went to prison for this man, gave up his life to take care of him afterwards, and he never really seemed to appreciate all Nathaniel gave to him. He knew he felt guilty, despite whatever Nate would tell him, and above all, he wished he'd been truly able to dispel these feelings of guilt from the mind and heart of his best friend. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Nate's eyes closed as he took a shuddering, calming breath, sniffing once to keep the onset of tears at bay. Crying would be way worse than talking. When Xerxes spoke up, he flinched, shaking his head. "I feel like it is... I mean, I know it ain't, I know he would'a done it no matter what if he really wanted to, since it's Michael... he's just like that. I just wished he'd have seen what all I gave up so he could live, so he could go to university, so he could marry that pretty girl and have that baby with her. I--... I fucked up my entire life for him." There it was. He had never told Xerxes what had really happened, why he wound up in prison, about how he'd never been behind the wheel of that car. Michael was the only one who knew, he and the passenger that'd lived, though he was sworn to secrecy as well. Blinking several times, Nate shook his head again, but only for his own sake. Don't say anymore, he warned himself before steeling his emotions and looking up, giving his friend a strained smile. "Thanks. It... it does mean a lot, y'know. I really appreciate it. You're... you're a good friend, Xerxes. M'sorry I left so suddenly. Shoulda told you why, shouldn't have ducked out on the station like that. Hope they'll still put out any fires I might set in my house." A low chuckle escaped him before he sighed out, feeling a little more relaxed now.

#ooc posts #I keep forgetting all my tags

Picking Up The Pieces | Breanah & Nate

Breanah’s mind was racing, every scenario running through it. Would he call the police because she hit him? She had never done anything like that before, hell, she was usually in trouble whenever she had to deal with the law. She didn’t mean to do it, it happened, a reflex she didn’t know she had in her. In all the arguments she had with Malakai, not once did she slap him, she took the safer route and stormed off. She always stormed off and this time she didn’t. Her eyes flitted to his face, concern building up behind them. Another apology came forth, a quiet one that would not have been heard even if she was right at his ear. Breanah looked away, unable to fathom what she did. This wasn’t like her at all and even with the added stress, she knew it wasn’t okay.

Breanah chewed on her lower lip, finding anywhere to look except for in Nate’s general direction. Of course he didn’t know what to do, nobody did until they had already done it. She let out an unsteady breath, taking a look at her trembling hands. The brunette took a tentative step forward, not sure if she should leave the situation or attempt to make it better. It amazed her at how quickly the stinging sensation left her hand but the immediate guilt had not left her stomach. It almost made her feel sick, shouldn’t she have felt it for much longer? There was nothing she could do now but apologize, the damage had been done and she was still in a daze. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging on it as she shifted in her spot. All she wanted to know was where that came from and she had an inkling it was what was built up from the stages of grief she had repressed. She was ashamed of herself for her actions and the only immediate thing she could think of was how quickly she needed to get to a confessional to ask for Holy forgiveness.

With another step forward, Breanah returned her gaze to his. She could see where the red started to spread and her guilt swelled up in the pit of her stomach even more. It didn’t help that he was at a loss for words, looking about as shocked as she expected. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, trying to find the words to say, to say something that wasn’t an apology. Something to explain what she did but of course, there was no explanation for it. “I’m sorry.” she repeated for the umpteenth time. Instead she took the rest of the steps to be just out of arm’s reach of him, just in case she had the urge to do it again.

“N-no. It’s not. You didn’t.” Her frown deepened. He didn’t have to apologize, not after that, not even for just taking off. “What are you talking about?” she asked, looking up at him. “You’re not making any sense.” Breanah let out another breath. “You’re not- I’m not. What?”

#p #p: breanah #p: the pieces #ugh I cannot with myself #I tell you #or with these two #or with you #or with Alexis #I'm so done #(but I'm not)

being since their first dinner/date (and even then it hadn't been so close), that he could smell the soap still clinging to her skin. Her slap must have kickstarted his adrenaline, because he could hear the flow of blood in his ears as it all rushed to and from his rapidly beating heart. Time passed between them in silence, and it could have been years for all he knew. And he could've stayed there for a dozen more if it just meant being near her, not being kicked from this house, never to look at her face again. That face... it was the one face he thought of more than anything else when he was in Illinois. It made him feel guilty, an emotion which was becoming commonplace for Nathaniel, since he had a multitude of other friends he'd left behind. But it wasn't as if he could help who his heart missed the most.

She was speaking, and her words were a jumbled mess in his ears. It took several long moments before his brain managed to get ahold of them and rearrange them into something that made even a modicum of sense. "You-- no, I mean... it's alright. Probably deserved it," he uttered with a weak chuckle that sounded completely out of place. "You, Breanah... I just--" Nate had to stop, had to swallow back the lump in his throat, widen his eyes and go back in time to steal some of the confidence teenage Nathaniel always wore so proudly on himself wherever he went. "I-- I care about you, so much. I have since... since the bakery, since-- since helpin' you move. Everytime you talked to me, everytime I saw you, all I could think about was 'wow, that girl is perfect. I don't see how anyone could ever leave her or treat her as anything less than an angel, 'cuz if she were mine, I'd never let her go.'"

Immediately he hated himself. Those words, they were straight from a sappy romance flick and he clenched his jaw. He was awful at this, and the tint in his face darkened from embarrassment. But with all that, he felt relief. He told her how he felt, he finally got it out, after months of denial, keeping it from himself, from Xerxes, from her, not wanting to admit it because he'd never be good enough for her-- which was something else he had to tell her. "But you wouldn't ever be mine. You're absolutely amazin', and me? I'm stuck in this hole that I can never get out of. I'll be there for the rest of my life, and you deserve so much more. I wanted to be more, 'cuz that's just how you made me feel-- but... but I-I can't, it's just not sometin' I can be anymore-- the type of guy who'd be just as perfect as you because there's so much... so much wrong with me, with--- with everything I've done, and just-- yeah... Yeah." And just like that, Nate lost his steam and dropped his gaze to the floor. The threat of tears was very real as his eyes stung, but he held them back. Crying right now would just be silly.

"I'm sorry, Bre'. I'm sorry..."

keithstardust

#face #sobbing #funeral clothes

Picking Up The Pieces | Breanah & Nate

It took all Breanah had to not tell him he was doing the disappearing act wrong. She was far from an expert at it but she at least knew you packed up in your initial flight, you didn’t return to the scene months later to do so. At one point in the past month or so, she herself had thought of returning to her own place of departure to gather the rest of her things but it had been too long and she was positive they were thrown out, if Emerald didn’t do her the favor of sending what she could to her. Still, Breanah could recognize what she was in front of her and for the first time, she knew how the other side felt when they caught her. There was a part of her that felt she needed to apologize for it again but that wouldn’t take care of the matter at hand. The matter at hand was she was being left. Again. And she didn’t like it one bit.

She took a step in the room once he realized she was there. She didn’t mean to startle him and cause the box and the contents in it to drop. She stood in her new spot, hesitating on helping him pick it all up, afterall, it was kind of her fault for him dropping it in the first place. Breanah took another step closer, brows furrowing only slightly. “I wouldn’t have known, I haven’t touched your room. You’re just…doing it wrong.” she told him, moving in an attempt to catch his eye with a frown set on her face. “You don’t come back to the scene of the crime, you never leave notes because…because you always get caught and that’s what makes it hurt more. For you, not me, I’ve gone through this already. Knowing that…even after they see you and say something…” she trailed off, closing her eyes for a moment. “That you still leave. That’s why you don’t leave notes.” She glanced over at the note he had left, a flash of anger coming over her. How could he have the audacity to do that to her? She wanted to capitalize on this moment, everything in her being told her to let the anger out, but she swallowed it down. She wanted to yell at him, ask him where he had the right to cause her worry, to not call or text or even leave a note in the beginning, but none of it would surface. It would do her no good to get worked up over something she couldn’t do anything about. Instead, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing at him.

Breanah watched his movements carefully, taking a step back from him, with arms crossed over her chest. “Well, I wasn’t.” came her cold reply, all hopes of staying in control passing for the moment. Her eyes flicked down to the key he was returning to her, unsure of what to do next. If she took it, then she was accepting this, if she didn’t, then she could have a chance. At what? Convincing him to stay and they continue their awkward tango? So she did what every rational person would do in her situation. She slapped him. Breanah stared at him in horror once she realized what she had done, covering her mouth with the offending hand, the other reaching out to see if he was okay. “Ohmigod. I’m so s-sorry. I didn’t mean to- ohmigod.” The woman took another two steps back, her back pressed against the dresser as apologies spilled from her lips. “Oh God. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-I’m sorry.”

#p #p: breanah #p: the pieces #Aaaah no call the police #I'm dying from this #dying #d y i n g

Nathaniel felt so ashamed. He was sure he'd never felt so ashamed in his life. Were he looking in from the outside, he'd be so pissed at himself for doing this, and might even be looking to start a fight in order to get himself to see things more clearly. The look on Breanah's face was foreign to him, a look he doesn't think he's ever seen on those delicate features, and quite honestly, it wasn't something he ever wanted to see mar the beauty that was Breanah. Nate chewed on his lip nervously, his heard beating so rapidly in his chest. If he'd been eighteen again, he knew this would have hardly bothered him. ... No, that's a lie, it would have, but eighteen-year-old-Nate would have known how to handle it, would have had all the right words to say in order to keep them both happy. But not now, and he hated that.

"Oh..." he stated softly, looking down to his things again. A sudden rush of disappointment filled him. Because why? Because she wouldn't have even noticed that he'd been by had she not even been in the house? That was mighty selfish of him, which only caused a new wave of shame. He just couldn't get it right today. Not like he'd been getting it right before anyhow. Shifting from one foot to the other, Nate finally lifted his gaze to hers. "I-I'm... sorry, I didn't really know what else to do--" And then he felt the hand against his face, all at once turning his head and pretty much knocking most of the sense out of him.

He took a step back, staring down at the floor with eyes wide in confusion. The red from the impact quickly spread across his entire face, and even beneath his chin. "Wow..." he breathed, reaching up to inspect the damage. That was a familar feeling. Being slapped. It'd happened a few times in his youth, after badmouthing his parents or humiliating a girl. In prison, when the families of 'his' victims had visited him. Just after Michael died, from his ex-wife. It was always his fault when Michael hit rock bottom, of course. Feeling it from Breanah was totally different, though. He hadn't expected it, but he didn't feel angry or guilty because of it. He knew he deserved it. She could have slapped him over and over again and he would have felt he deserved it. "It--..." he trailed off, breathing out slowly as he lifted his eyes to her.

"It's okay. I... I deserved it. I'm-- I'm so sorry, Breanah." His words began spilling out all at once as he took a step towards her, his eyes focused on hers, eyebrows knitting together in despair. "So sorry... you-- you didn't deserve this, me... leavin' like that. I shoulda told you everything, shoulda... shoulda been more-- I wanted to be more, for you, because-- I just... you're just so good t'me, t'everyone... and I'm... not."

Text to Xerxes

Xerxes: no! we bought like ten hundred donuts so now we are having food babies instead

Xerxes: mental image of me and nicole or mental image of you and breanah?? you cant even handle the image of kissing breanah??? I SEE IT IN YOUR EYES dont lie to me

Xerxes: excuse me

Xerxes: have you seen my face?? do you need glasses?? contact lenses?? do you need something??? stop being jealous, it's okay....... there there, brother

Nate: So a thousand lol

Nate: Why do you bring Breanah into this

Nate: You can't even see my eyes!

Nate: I've seen your face a dozen or more times and I gotta say..... i've seen better :)

#t #t: xerxes #l o l #nate is so mean now

U + Me = Us ♠ Naxes

Nothing could have prepared Xerxes for Nate’s reply and the way he so bluntly said it. He supposed, however, that that was really all to it. People lived, and people died. Bodies were just bodies; they were there, and then they were gone. But people, the lives they carried and all they left behind, lived until there was no soul left to remember. If there was—or wasn’t—a reason for Nate’s direct answer, Xerxes didn’t ask; topics like these didn’t need reason, more often than not. If that was the way Nate wanted to respond, then let it be; he did not hurt anybody. Instead, Xerxes smiled at his friend—not a wide one like the one he previously had, but a solemn kind frosted only with the hope that his friend was doing okay.

“I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry it happened.” Until now, Xerxes didn’t know what to say in situations like these. He worked with a job with the threat of death, and he had worked with people—great people of service—who had passed before him, and he had a girlfriend who still dealt with grief, but he never knew what to say to lessen the pain. He had long learned that he couldn’t; he had learned that all he could do was just be there. “Is his family okay? I hope they are. If there’s anything I can do to help— or, or, uh, or to… to help, I’d gladly volunteer. Give. Donate. What have you.” The weak smile continued to grace his lips, though Xerxes averted his gaze.

“I’m glad you’re back, though! I mean— I’m sorry it had to come to that, but, uh”—Xerxes looked down at the table as if it had a script on it, that he may say the right thing—“I’m just… glad you’re back. Everything’s settled then? Work, money, shelter? If you need a place, something on your back, I’ve got space in my apartment. You could stay, if needed.” He nodded with certainty so as to underline his words. Xerxes might not have known what to say, but he would try to do everything he could to alleviate the situation, even if by just a notch.

#p #p: xerxes #p: u+me #welp #here I go again

Clearing his throat, Nathaniel shifted in his seat, his gaze falling to the surface of the table. It was still surprising to him how easily that came out, and now that he'd reveled it, he felt a bubbling of emotions in the center of his chest. It was mostly... sadness, grief... he hadn't really allowed himself to grieve, since he didn't really think himself deserving of such when those around him at the time of Michael's death were of much more importance to his friend's life. Even if Michael would always say how much Nate meant to him, much more than even his ex-wife.

Sighing out loudly, he kept his eyes down, his appetite having disappeared. "Thanks," he said simply, a short smile tugging at the corners of his lips, disappearing as soon as it had appeared. "I am too. I did... so much, but... not enough." Again, the way it came out, the bitterness attached to the words, they were surprising, and immediately he wished he hadn't said them. But there they were. "I think I'll be alright."

But just hearing himself say that caused a new emotion to form: anger. Anger, sadness, bitterness, he was just a cesspool of negativity right now, and his eyes narrowed. "I mean, no, I don't think I will be, but I have t'try. I did... everything for this asshole," he started suddenly, flattening his palm on the surface of the table, though his eyes remained where they were. "I gave up my life so he could have his, twice. And what does he do? He abandons his family. He acts like a spoiled kid, he... he takes a fuckin' razor blade to his arm." Nate was speaking low, through his teeth, his line of vision focused soley on the french fries before him, whose scent was making his stomach churn. Wait, what was he doing? Why was he going through this now? Blinking back the burning tears that had reared their sudden ugly head, Nate sat back, hands quickly moving into his lap. "Sorry... but uh, thanks... thanks for the offer. I think I uh, I'm alright. Got a place to stay and all, got myself a job..."

Picking Up The Pieces | Breanah & Nate

Breanah only counted the days starting from the first of December until her birthday. Too many unsavory life events happened between that time as of late and she needed the time to mentally recoup so she could get on with another year of life. She was a little over a month away before she pushed away the recent events for good and she was looking forward to it. Quite frankly, Breanah was looking forward to waking up when there wasn’t snow on the ground, she was not going to be picky at this point. Still she moved through her days, taking them one at a time and taking moments to praise herself on the little things. Anything to get her spirits as high as they could possibly go before she embarked out into the cold world.

The brunette had taken a mental health day, trusting her adoptive employees would only call her in case of an emergency. Everything from the moment she woke up until she would eventually go to sleep had been planned the night before, down to the absolute last detail. Thus far, nothing had gone awry and Breanah was eternally thankful for that. Her routine had gone on as normal, a gentle knock to the doors she had kept closed since officially living by herself to get the day started before going about her own business. Planned, executed and perfect were the only things she was looking for in her day to herself. After a weekend at her parents, she decided that sooner, rather than later, she was going to work on becoming a better person who didn’t have life constantly throw her the world’s worst curveballs. Her mental health day was going to be the start of that.

Her evening was going to end with a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of wine to free her from her innermost thoughts and turmoil. For the first time in forever, she was going to be completely relaxed and it was going to be glorious. She sunk far enough into the tub to let the bubbles start to tickle her nose. It was strange, the woman had come home to a nightmarish scene similar to this one and yet she still continued to submerge herself deeper until the liquid. Under the water, everything seemed much clearer, it made more sense, it was constant and stable. Outside of it and what she was doomed to face in the morning, the chaos hadn’t paused for her and she would be jumping back into it head first. After tonight, she would be better prepared. A light scratching at her bathroom door alerted her that she may have almost fallen asleep and that would not have been a good thing. She sat up, letting out a slow breath before reaching forward to pull the stopper from the bottom. Breanah sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching the water and bubbles drain with little interest, a soft smile playing on her lips as she started to dry off. Breanah dressed quickly, the scratches at the door becoming more and more insistent. Marshall bounded in, tail wagging happily at her owner before leading the charge towards the door leading out of Breanah’s bedroom.

Stepping lightly into the hall, Breanah followed the dog to let her outside, hardly noticing the open bedroom door or the person moving about inside of it. The brunette pulled open the arcadia door for the dog to go out and waited, shivering slightly in her spot as Marshall did her business and came back in almost as quickly. A soft praise came from her lips as she headed back towards her room, ushering the dog with a gentle nudge of the foot. She stopped in her tracks, looking around the room as a faint, yet familiar scent caught her nostrils. Her mind was playing tricks on her, that she knew. Phantom scents seemed to have plagued her more often than not and today, it reminded her of someone she had wished she had gotten to know better. She shook it off, running her fingers through her still wet hair and continuing on her way. Why, of all times, would her brain decide that she needed to remember what Nate had smelled like? This was not a thought that was going to plague her, not when she was so close to achieving her own personal nirvana.

This time, however, as she made her way, she noticed the open door and the person behind it. She took a few steps back to peer inside, surely her mind was playing tricks on her. Whether or not the sight before her was real, Breanah still felt her heart skip a beat. Sitting on the bed, writing a note was Nate and Breanah wasn’t sure how to feel. “If you want my advice,” she spoke softly after a few beats, “it’s a little too late to leave a note. And on that comment, leaving a note makes it hurt a whole lot more, I should know.”

#p #p: breanah #changing this tag #p: the pieces #also sorry it's short!! I got too excited :x

Looking down at the note, Nathaniel felt that familiar guilt again. Shouldn't he just be a man and call her? Tell her what he'd done, that he was back? He knew he ought to, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. How could he? He'd left with very little notice and had been gone for months. No, she deserved better than him. She deserved better than a note too. But he was a coward. He knew that already. Michael dying wouldn't change that. So with a heavy heart, he looked over the note a few times before deeming it satisfactory and he stood, ripping it from the pad to drop it on the bed.

With all this belongings gathered now, he lifted the box and turned, only to be met with a very lovely, and terrifying, sight. "Br-Breanah!" Immediately, Nate dropped the box, his things spilling everywhere. "Shit," he mumbled, bending to scoop them all into his now split box, his cheeks quickly filling with heat. "Sorry," was another mumble once he got everything straightened up and he stood again, though he left the box on the floor. "I--..." pausing, he averted his gaze, focusing on a now very interesting knothole in the wood finish of the dresser he'd been using. "I didn't know how else-- didn't want you to think someone came in and robbed you. Of... y'know, my stuff." The more he talked, the more it sounded absolutely stupid.

It felt like an eternity between saying those things and him clearing his throat, but finally, he was able to look up at her. God, she was still as beautiful as the day he left. She must have been in the shower, considering her still wet hair. "I-- I thought you were out." He dug into his pocket, clumsily retrieving the key she'd given him before. "Used this. You can uh, you can have it back though-- I mean, obviously, since, yeah..."

#ooc post #Wow this is long #I'll put up some plot pieces later but for right now this is just a general thing!!

Text to Xerxes

Xerxes: i bought something very expensive. i cant treat anyone anymore :( :(

Xerxes: kiss her if she screams at you, she'll stop. this works when nicole is screaming. except she's not screaming at me... she's screaming because of me, because you know... ;)

Xerxes: also it was really dumb, breanah said a dumb thing and i got angry, and then i said a dumb thing. christmas was a hell of a stressful time, okay! this is why we need to meet so you can tell me how your christmas went!

Xerxes: nate. i have a great girlfriend, and we have great sex. i have a great job. i have a great body. i have a great face. have you seen my face? i do not want to be anyone else but me, you feel???

Nate: Did you buy a house? Are you and Nicole having kids? Is that what this is??

Nate: ... i really did not need that mental image now i'm going to stop responding for a little while so I can throw up my last meal

Nate: I'm sorry you two had a stressful time, but at least you two are okay now

Nate: Well good at least you're confident about it but I don't know you have this weird thing going on with your face sooo...

#t #t: xerxes #woop woop i am awake

U + Me = Us ♠ Naxes

Everything had changed so drastically within the last two months that Xerxes had to stop and wonder when it all happened. He’d never been one to believe the whole new year, new leaf agenda most people liked to think at the start of the year, but it certainly felt that way. All the worries of December smoothed itself out—Zack was gone, Breanah was Xerxes’ friend again, and most importantly, everything with his mother had worked out alright—and the excitement of the coming months ahead replaced them. He actually had a ring for Nicole now—an actual, engagement ring; real and tangible—and everything was doing well at work. In a few days, he would schedule a meeting with Nicole’s mother and brothers. Everything was falling into place.

The new year had also brought back Nathaniel Howell. As Xerxes sat across his friend in a fast food restaurant, he was still wondering where his luck had come from and why everything had fallen into place. He poked his friend’s arm sprawled out on the table again, just to make sure he was real. “I can’t believe you’re back. This is my kind of romance. When do we kiss and do what lovers do?” Xerxes joked with a nod of his head.

A pregnant pause followed his words, however; they took in all there was of Nate, dissected him from his head to his toes, just to make sure he was actually there. When Xerxes spoke again, his tone was more serious. “So, what happened? You find what you needed to find?” He popped two french fries into his mouth as he looked to Nate.