comme la mer gèle

penned by peep you made a DECISION that very few of your kind are brave enough to make. and in your HEART, you know it was the best decision you made in a long time. but you can't help but feel LONELY from it, too. and so as you contribute to the cause, you meet up with those in your past. and people who will become your PRESENT. with each interaction, you try to emulate the LIGHT you once shared with your sister and so out of SURVIVAL, you choose not to take things entirely too seriously. because as you look around, you recognize that shit is DARK enough.

[perpetuitys]

— he turned too many heads for one lifetime

↳ with sinclair

IT  WAS  NICE  ,  to  be  able  to  talk  about  his  plotting  &  his  machinations  without  having  to  worry  about  the  dangerous  parts.  it  was  true  ,  this  could  earn  him  his  death  if  he  makes  one  misstep.  zaiden  had  already  decided  to  stick  with  him  ,  &  he  would  inevitably  be  pulled  into  his  mess  too  if  he  was  caught.  but  when  clair  focused  on  those  parts  ,  he  lost  the  pure  &  unadulterated  excitement  &  giddiness  at  the  prospect  of  sneaking  around  behind  the  backs  of  the  powers  that  be.  he’d  been  clinging  to  the  shadows  for  a  long  time  now  ,  &  if  he  lacked  his  modesty  ,  he’d  say  he  was  quite  good  at  it.  the  easy  back  &  forth  with  michel  reminded  him  that  yes  ,  hazardous  conditions  aside  ,  there  was  the  personal  silver  lining  of  how  much  fun  could  be  had  in  it.  eyebrows  inched  up  towards  his  hairline  in  his  amusement  ,  aquamarines  peering  over  at  michel  ,  ❝  oui  ,  move  your  big  ass  over.  me  &  my  long  legs  are  going  to  need  to  stretch  out  after  this  one.  ❞  his  snort  is  thick  with  his  sarcasm  as  his  free  hand  lifted  to  pat  michel  on  the  shoulder.  ❝  yes  ,  yes  ,  the  reunion  is  emotional  &  heartfelt  ,  but  no  tears  on  my  behalf  ,  please.  not  yet  ,  anyways.  .  .  ❞

he  absorbed  the  advice  michel  could  give  ,  chewing  on  every  syllable  in  his  deliberation  ,  before  swallowing  them  down  &  keeping  them  for  safe  -  keeping.  it  made  sense  that  aleksander  would  literally  play  it  close  to  the  chest  ,  but  he  couldn’t  keep  it  all  on  him.  ❝  so  ,  bedroom  side  table  over  office  desk  ,  got  it.  ❞  teeth  came  down  on  his  bottom  lip  ,  a  light  &  almost  silent  chuckle  at  his  bad  joke.  ❝  i’m  going  to  find  what  i  need.  .  .  i  just  know  it.  don’t  ask  me  how  ,  but  i  do.  i’m  going  to  take  pictures  of  everything  ,  for  proof  &  later  reading  ,  because  i’m  sure  everything  will  be  in  goddamned  russian.  that’s  the  hard  part  for  me.  i’ve  got  my  ways  ,  &  the  getting  in  is  pretty  much  squared  away.  seems  i’m  not  the  only  one  around  the  coven  that’s  had  it  with  him.  .  .  imagine  that.  ❞

“putain...” the curse slips from his lips, a smirk following quickly after, as he listens to his close friend’s words. he trusts that if clair is this confident in the prospect for success in his dangerous search, it must be for good reason. which only does wonders to excite the man even more internally. and perhaps the giddiness can be read across his features, too. “what are you trying to find exactly?” he asks, inhaling the cigarette once more, only now realizing that he isn’t sure about what kind of information he’s after.

michel chuckles at the latter comment, because honestly... he’s not wrong. he’s been hoping for this outcome ever since his infamous exit. waiting for someone — anyone, even the lowest member of the lowest tier in the coven for fuck’s sake — to be able to ditch the coven, ditch their allegiance entirely and perhaps even go a step further. and the fact that that someone might just be his closest friend of all people almost sounds too good. “are you thinking... the liberation?” it’s not a coherent question, but it still feels dangerous to ask, moreso on the other frenchman’s behalf rather than his own. but he’s able to read between the lines, he can feel the implication. because if it’s against the coven, it at least contributes a little to the liberation and the idea of a confirmation — clair joining the dark side alongside him that is — excites him enough to grow his smirk into a grin.

[perpetuitys]

— hate me like no other lover, baby

starring: miguel alma ( @fangedfm​ ), michel de la rue setting: manhattan bar

tonight marked a special occasion. michel wasn’t sure how he got out of working a thursday night — no attempted compulsion even necessary. and as he recognized the opportunity that came with such a rare night off, he decided to allow himself a fair amount of self-indulgence. after all, his week mostly consisted of reflection, working and the occasional adventure spearheaded by his endless curiosity. so this time, he opts to spend most of his night in a more quaint, chill bar than his usual neon-saturated nightclub environment that occupied his weekends. 

there was a decent amount of people in the bar, but for some reason, his gaze remained fixed on a certain brunette — or did its lightness qualify as more of a blonde? — sitting at the counter. without realizing, a slight smirk stretched his lips, the other causing an unexpectedly flustered moment for michel. and more than his usual scatter-brained tendencies. he takes it as a sign from the universe to follow whatever adventure she is leading him towards and before he thinks of his next course of action, he finds himself beside the... lycan. ah, so he’s a lycan, he realizes quickly and as the other notices him, he figures he might as well say something instead of just standing there. “er... could i get you another one of those?” he asks in reference to his drink, the question being the first thing that came to his mind. his own forwardness surprises him a bit as his eyebrows pinch together lightly, sucking in his teeth.

[perpetuitys]

— there's a bull and a matador dueling in the sky

starring: søren jacobson ( @sandstonefm​ ), michel de la rue setting: park bench, nighttime

the first fifty years of michel’s existence as an immortal arguably stood as the darkest time of his life. even a full century after, the topic of his human life still stung him. because he knew just how much he had to leave behind. he accomplished everything one would want out of life — the act of falling in love, finding a soulmate, having kids with said soulmate, having a job that you love — then witnessed what it was like to lose it all in an instant. the guilt from his own accidental involvement in his death and the effects it would have on his family ate him alive for decades. and he still feels that familiar ache if he thinks about it for too long. which is perhaps the irony of the conversation he found himself with søren. because for once, all of the centuries worth of pain he carried with him every day, he felt like there was finally this opportunity to let it go. release all of it and heal properly. 

michel sighs and runs an apprehensive hand through his hair before glancing back up, not exactly turning to the other. because if he could hide his emotions for a little bit longer, he absolutely would. “her name was colette. we er... one day, just... decided to elope. only felt right. my parents liked her because she was french, too. weren’t too many french immigrants in brooklyn yet either... but er, didn’t really appreciate us getting married without inviting them.” he felt his heart warming up at the memories, bringing warmth to his chilled skin. and perhaps a smirk and light blush creeps its way to his features, as it always did when he mentioned colette. “miss her every day though. still...” he adds on through a mutter, digging his shoe further into the dirt below the bench. “mm, and yours? what was your partner like?” he asks, finally meeting their gaze after a while.

[perpetuitys]

— a des reflets d'argent, la mer

↳ with chris

With the full moon only days away, Christopher had been running more, trying to burn as much access energy as he could before the day came. Due to his age, the call of the moon didn’t force a chance, but it was still there. A beckoning celestial force Christopher gave into as often as possible. The truth was, he felt most comfortable in wolf form, yet living in New York amongst humans and amidst vampire rule, the opportunity to shift was rare. Despite keeping his human form, Christopher always ran somewhere different. At this point he’d trodden every part of New York City, run through every borough. He ran fast, some may say abnormally so, and while people tended not o pay attention to anyone else in such a dense city, Christopher varied his location to avoided being spotted by the same group of humans twice. Today he found himself running along Riverside Park. He tried to avoid Manhattan as often as possible, not wanting to provoke any reaction from the vampires, but after being here for over 20 years, New York was starting to seem small. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to move north of the city live amidst farmlands or national parks. But the pack and alpha were here. That mattered most to Christopher. And he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t be bored to death living away from the bustle of city life.

Despite the time of night, it wasn’t long before Christopher came across someone sitting at the river’s edge. His brows furrowed as he slowed his running to a speed less supernatural. Who’d be skipping rocks this time of night. As he neared the water and the person the scent of evergreens and river algae were replaced by the the distinct scent of vampire blood. If he recognized the scent, then the vampire also knew there was a lycan near. Christopher knew better than to underestimate or hope for the best. He approached, assessing the level of threat and calmed considerably when he recognized the vampire.

He didn’t know what the make of Michel, hadn’t spoken to him too much and he seemed less antagonizing that Sinclair, but Christopher had seen him around enough Lycans to not immediately reach for his knives, but the added weight of them were still a comfort. He neared the river bank, making enough noise to alert of his intentions. The last thing he wanted was a surprised vampire. Christopher ducked to the ground and plucked a flat looking rock before approaching. “A contribution,” he said in greeting, presenting the rock like a guest presents a wine bottle to a host. “You know, I’ve never managed to get more than one skip before sinking.”

—

sometimes michel just likes to take his time to think. even if it’s not about much, he values the personal reflection and the moments he’s able to slow down — and perhaps this is where his own surprisingly introverted self comes alive. and now that he felt a bit more nourished — because maybe he wanted to squeeze in a quick and cheeky bite beforehand — he began picking up a couple stones along the way before deciding on a pleasant spot on the ledge. at this point, skipping rocks just felt like second nature to him, almost like a very unnecessary and unhelpful sixth sense. picking up the hobby over the years, the mindless gesture just felt comforting now. a bit nostalgic even. sitting in his thoughts for a couple moments, a very specific scent took him out of them briefly and as the scent approached him, he decided to tilt his head up out of curiosity, small smile growing as he recognized the other. one he definitely didn’t see himself forgetting any time soon, especially as he learned of his frenchman status. because no matter what, before he was a vampire or immortal, he was french. that’s for certain.

“ah, we should change that, mon ami.” he flashes a bashful smirk before tossing the stone in his hand, flicking his wrist in a casually calculated way — the gesture second nature to him at this point. “i was a pretty boring, timid fledgling. mostly skipped rocks, read books for the first few decades, actually. kind of picked it up then.” he releases a humorless chuckle at the memory of that odd period of his existence, finding the idea of spending so much time doing so little much more ridiculous now than then. though, in his defense, he admits that he was also horribly depressed during that time.

michel glances over to meet the other’s gaze, interested in hearing more from him. “how’s everything been treating you though?” he turns to ask, this time offering his own stone to the other for him to try. “well... considering.” he continues, because he understands the circumstances and recognizes his own privilege in it, too. although he didn’t know too much about chris — outside his liberation affiliation and the already established french connection, of course — personally, he always admired his presence within the liberation. and truthfully, he’s been meaning to get to know more of the members individually, too. if only to become more invested, make some friends, and steadily gain trust along the way.

[perpetuitys]

✄┈┈ viens appeler un chat un chat

[perpetuitys]

— meet me at the bar, if you lose me I can find you

↳ with zah’ra

NOSE  SCRUNCHES  UP ,  a  playful  pout  on  her  lips  in  her  passing  irritation  at  the  memories  of  the  fashion  of  those  times.  ❝  to  be  honest  ,  the  corsets  weren’t  so  bad.  for  me  ,  it  was  all  the  damn  layers.  why  did  i  need  four  skirts  beneath  my  outer  one  ?  or  that  damnable  cage  contraption  to  puff  it  out  ?  i’ll  tell  you  ,  i  was  rocking  pants  way  before  it  was  acceptable  for  a  woman  to  do  so  in  most  places.  fuck  the  layers.  also  ,  pockets.  ❞  with  her  short  stature  ,  z  had  automatically  risen  up  to  her  toes  ,  losing  no  grace  or  poise  as  she  stood  just  a  few  inches  higher  to  make  it  easier  on  michel.  she  leaned  back  as  they  swayed  ,  just  enough  to  peek  up  at  him  through  her  curls  ,  her  amusement  obvious  on  her  typically  stony  features  ;  amber  hues  bright  ,  plumps  curling  up  in  the  smallest  of  smiles  —  the  image  of  carefree  in  his  arms.  which  ,  someone  in  her  shoes  ,  felt  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  come  by.

she  snorts  at  the  mention  of  the  macarena  ,  &  then  giggles  at  the  thought  of  the  nineties.  ❝  i’m  laughing  ,  but  you’re  right.  there  was  something  special  about  the  nineties.  i  broke  dave  grohl’s  nose  in  a  bar  for  being  an  ass.  ❞  images  of  neon  lights  ,  bad  hair  styles  ,  &  grunge  music  from  shitty  speakers  was  most  of  what  she  remembered  of  the  decade  ;  the  highlight  being  beating  the  shit  out  of  the drummer   when  nirvana  was  just  a  garage  band  in  washington  state.  he  had  a  big  mouth  &  she  was  a  bit  more.  .  .  uppity  back  then.  his  question  had  her  humming  ,  eyebrows  pinching  together  slightly  as  she  thought  ,  slender  fingers  slipping  under  his  shirt  to  trace  shapes  onto  his  lower  back.  ❝  from  what  i  can  remember  ,  the  celebrations  then  were  pretty  much  the  same  ,  only  they  just.  .  .  lasted  forever.  a  party  wasn’t  a  one  night  outing  ,  it  was  an  eight  day  long  ,  non  -  stop  ,  be  as  stupid  as  you  want  &  no  one  gives  a  shit  fest.  &  my  favorite  era  was  definitely  the  age  of  enlightenment  ,  the  1720s  in  italy  was  something  else.  ❞  

z  peered  up  at  him  , ❝  what  about  you  ?  what’s  was  your  favorite  time  period  so  far  ?  ❞

swaying the two of them back and forth with grace, falling back into the rhythm of the dance as if he’s been doing it for recent years, michel opts to treat the other to a slight twirl. “damn, you really started a trend there, huh? ah, look at all these people copying you now.” he jokes slightly, smirk continuing its everlasting presence as she faces him again. “mm, now that you say that... kind of does sound like dave grohl, honestly.” he chuckles. “ah, that’s a good choice. what was that like?” he asks, already very invested in her answer. finding freedom from his perpetual nineteenth-century boredom through a few enlightenment era texts, his face visibly lights up at the mention. and perhaps there’s a bit of jealousy there that she was able to experience such a renaissance up close. “i mean, some of them seemed like they’d be more condescending than enlightened, i’d say, but...” and he half chuckles at the sentiment.

his eyebrows come to meet as he thinks preciously about his answer. because while there were moments he admired throughout the years from several eras, truthfully, they’ve all blended together for him. the decades tended to carry a recurring pattern — distancing himself from the coven, feeding into self-indulgent tendencies until he grew tired of them, returning back to the coven. and truthfully, the cycle left him a bit cynical for a while — often serving as his once-a-century existential crisis. but there were definitely a couple decades that stood out for him, too, no lying. “hm... i mean, i like the culture of the nineties, i think things were just beginning to become alive... but i think at least a part of my heart will always be in the 1820′s. home to my youth and all that, i guess.”

[perpetuitys]

[perpetuitys]

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

↳ for a secret wish or desire of theirs

he just wants to see the sunlight again, honestly. it’s kind of embarrassing just how much he would be willing to give up to revisit his favorite spot at the beach and see the tides shining in the day.

[perpetuitys]

🌜

↳ for a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

michel doesn’t drive often but when he does... you probably don’t want to be in a car with him. or on the same road as him. he’s super, super reckless and horrible at driving and treats most roads like a highway. but luckily, he rather walk most of the time and finds it less annoying to navigate new york that way.

[perpetuitys]

👻

↳ for something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

he’s pretty terrified of the future of this war, fearing that the blood-sworn’s numbers will only grow from here. although he’s offering any support he could provide, he’s concerned it’s not enough. he worries for all the lycans he’s gotten close to and the ones out there who aren’t as aware of the state of things. it’s something that brings him anxiety the closer he gets to someone.

[perpetuitys]

something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about!

"well, getting married behind my parents’ back was kind of mischievous, i’d say.” michel flicks his eyebrows, the memory bringing a smirk to his lips.

[perpetuitys]

what's the worst thing that happened to u this week

michel sucks his teeth in as he takes a swig of his beer. "dropped my phone and it cracked.” chuckling slightly out of embarrassment, he shakes his head. “sort of don’t feel like dropping a few hundred on a new one, either.”

[rp-meme-glaceon]

Force my Muse to Spill their Secrets

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

🍏- For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

🍎- For something they secretly wish did exist

❤️- For a secret crush

📲- Talk about someone/something you dislike, but only pretend to like

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

🏹- For a talent they wish they had

👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

☢️- For a controversy or scandal they have been able to keep mostly under wraps

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

📒- For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

❓- Free Space! Ask them about a specific secret!

[perpetuitys]

✄┈┈ viens appeler un chat un chat

[lovestereo]

Visit Original Link

[perpetuitys]

— he turned too many heads for one lifetime

↳ with sinclair

SPINDLEY  DIGITS  EAGERLY  PLUCK  the  perfectly  ,  as  always  ,  hand  -  rolled  cigarette  from  michel’s  fingers.  somehow  ,  even  though  he’d  left  his  pack  at  home  ,  his  trusty  zippo  was  still  in  his  pocket  ,  &  he  flipped  it  open  &  lit  his  cigarette  with  smooth  &  practiced  motions.  shoulders  rose  &  chest  expanded  with  the  deep  inhale  he  took  ,  enjoying  the  treat  of  a  stick  without  a  filter.  ❝  mhmm  ,  that’s  deliciously  harsh.  &  rolled  flawlessly  ,  mon  amie  ,  merci.  ❞  he  noted  how  michel  didn’t  acknowledge  his  comment  about  harassing  his  boyfriend  ,  at  his  own  flat  ,  when  he  wasn’t  present.  .  .  &  sinclair  would  let  it  rest  on  the  back  burner.  for  now.

they  fell  into  step  effortlessly  next  to  each  other  ,  smoke  trailing  behind  them  in  languid  clouds  ,  &  clair  felt  a  little  more  comfortable  in  his  own  skin  at  the  familiarity  of  the  moment.  it’d  been  a  life  -  time  since  they’d  walked  like  this  ,  &  they  fell  right  back  into  it  like  no  time  had  passed  at  all.  it  was  a  comfort  ,  &  telling  to  clair  that  maybe  he  hadn’t  deviated  from  his  natural  state  of  being  too  much  ,  in  all  his  treachery  &  entanglement.  he  hummed  ,  lips  pursed  as  he  exhaled  before  he  answered  ,  ❝  oh  ,  yes.  truly  dangerous.  what  can  i  say  ,  i’ve  always  been  a  hazard  to  myself.  ❞  head  fell  back  with  a  bark  of  laughter  —  ❝  well  ,  make  room  on  the  traitor  couch  ,  michel.  because  we’re  fully  back  in  business.  no  ,  no  planned  arson  or  major  physical  destruction  ,  i’m  afraid.  though  ,  if  you  do  know  any  of  daddy  dearest’s  hiding  spots  in  his  wing  ,  i’d  be  ever  -  so  -  grateful.  i’ve  got  some  heavy  snooping  on  my  docet  for  a  few  weeks  out.  ❞

michel can’t help the way his eyes light up at what sinclair is suggesting, smirk only deepening into a shit-eating grin, taking the cig out of his mouth. “shit... you’re a sneaky bastard, huh?” continuing to walk beside the other, he turns his gaze back to him, clasping a hand on the other’s shoulder. and although he’s never wanted to push sinclair too hard in one direction or the other, he always secretly hoped for this outcome. while others of their kind did their best to avoid him after the whole fiasco, he appreciated that that never felt the case with sinclair. and maybe that should of been his first sign that he was possibly even considering such delicious treachery. “fuck, let me make some room then.” he laughs alongside him, just glad to finally have some company joining the fairly-empty traitor couch. “that’s... pretty hardcore, though. i think i’m proud... might get me a little emotional.” and he’s joking, raising a hand to pretend to fan his face from his faux tears.

he takes another drag of the cigarette, carefully considering what clair is asking him. because if he was going to give him such precious information, he needed to be sure it was as right as fucking possible. one cloudy memory could easily put him in unnecessary danger and he was carrying enough guilt on his shoulders, honestly. “god, good luck. er... he definitely has some things kept in his office. but i don’t remember there being anything groundbreaking.” his eyebrows furrow, trying to recall of anything suspicious he saw any time he found himself in that room. “anything he doesn’t want people to know about, he keeps very, very close to him. figuratively but er... literally, too. it would be fucking difficult, but all of the things you probably want are in his bedroom.” he flicks his eyebrows and takes another drag, inhaling the smoke. the one time he’s ever stepped foot in his space, it wasn’t for very long — and that felt very intentional. he always found the moment inherently suspicious, and as he thinks about it, probably for good reason, too.

[perpetuitys]

— if you don’t pull me back, it wakes a thousand eyes

↳ with magdalena

GRIEF WAS A  parasite  ,  a greedy little creature festering in the wound of her broken heart  ,  devouring whatever it could find  &  always hunting for more  .  it spoke in eerie little whispers  ,  sinking its talons into even the happiest of memories  ;  what’s this  ,  it would ask  ,  and without waiting for an answer it would tuck in  ,  giving magdalena little time to beg for mercy  .  nothing was sacred  .  anything could be taken  ,  twisted  &  destroyed  .  the leech never went hungry  ,  especially when it had memories of michel to feed off of  —  endless  ,  they were  ,  each one as vivid as the day they’d been made  .  it wasn’t rare for her to reminisce on them only to find herself doleful  &  aching  ,  or burning with anger  ,  never quite being able to enjoy them for what they were after his exile  .

and she was still heartbroken  .  still angry  .  still confused  .  but beneath the corrosive layer of mourning  ,  she was still left wanting  :  wanting to see him  ,  to hear his voice  ,  his laugh  ,  to glimpse the little crinkle of his eyes when he smiled  .  seeing his occasional quip in the group chat wasn’t enough  .  equally as important  ,  of course  ,  were the answers she needed  .  what had really happened the night he left  ?  why hadn’t he said goodbye  ,  or anything else  ,  for that matter  ?  the night at the rose had been the catalyst that led to her reaching out to him separately  ,  arranging this meeting in the hopes of  …  something  .  preferably some sort of resolution  .  it nearly felt like treason  ,  to seek him out like this  —  but she’d been committing quite a lot of that  ,  as of late  ,  so what was the difference anymore  ?  

she watches michel with a hint of hesitation when she spots him  ,  stomach knotting anxiously  .  seeing him still causes a spear of pain to lance through her chest  ,  but the hurt is almost desperate as it throbs  ,  begging  please  ,  please don’t turn away from me again  ,  please don’t leave  .  with an unsteady inhale drawn  ,  lena approaches him  ,  the quiet click of her heels echoing across the night to announce her presence  .    ❝    …  michel  —   ❞    and before anything else can follow  ,  she’s in his arms  ,  face pressed into his shoulder as she tries not to break  &  cry at the gentle embrace  .  it feels like coming home  .  like all the days when  ,  as a child  ,  he’d spent countless hours reading to her  ,  or coaching her as she recited passages from the books he’d bought her  .  like all the little crayon drawings she’d made of them  ,  together  ,  wide fanged smiles scribbled on their faces  .  the monsters under her bed he’d fought off without a moment’s hesitation  .  it fades as soon as the embrace is broken  ,  and lena tries not to cling to his shirt as they pull apart  ,  focusing instead on how he fishes in his pockets  .  dainty fingers rub at her throat as he produces the necklace  ,  the bob when she swallows shifting her fingertips  .  a smile splits anxiety worn features  ,  ocean eyes dotted with little stars as they shine  .    ❝    it’s so cute  …    ❞    her touch is gentle when she takes the necklace from him  ,  marveling over the little fox charm a moment longer as he continues to speak  .  lena tucks the necklace into her chanel bag  ,  careful not to tangle the chain  ,  another secret she intends to keep from the coven’s ever present prying eyes  .

there’s still a gaping schism between them  ,  rippling with uncertainty as they shift awkwardly in the pause  .  she’s not sure where to begin  ,  and evidently neither is he  ,  as the question catches her on uncertain footing  .

❝    how have i .. been  ?   ❞    she parrots him  ,  whispering his question to herself incredulously  .  how is she expected to answer that  ?  it leaves a bitter taste on her tongue  ,  a tacky film over the roof of her mouth  ,  the back of her throat  .  her anger clamps its teeth around the bait  ,  and she’s flooded with reminders of how betrayed  &  abandoned his departure left her feeling  .     ❝    you disappear  ,  you don’t say anything to anyone  ,  you don’t say  goodbye  or  i love you  or  i’m sorry  …  you pop up every so often when you feel fit to  —  how have i been since  when  ,  exactly  ?  since you left  ?  since the incident at the rose  ?  since  ,  i don’t know  ,  last tuesday  ?   ❞    she can already feel tears beading at the corners of her eyes  ,  burning until she closes her eyes and releases a tense  ,  shaken exhale  .     ❝    why didn’t you  …  why didn’t you at least say  goodbye  ,  michel  ?    ❞

the questions she asks are fair but the pain behind them absolutely crushes his heart. his heart drops to his feet knowing this pain must have weighed on her soul since that night and although his angst matches hers in that regard, michel has always been better at deflecting painful emotions, painful memories. his ache to return to her manifested in simple, overlooked texts, choosing to remain in a groupchat he’s unwanted in because he refuses to leave her side once more. even if it’s only virtually, at a distance, and especially if it proved to be harmless. but as she closes her eyes, tears threatening to break past its fragile barrier, the sight destroys him and before he can process it, he brings her into another embrace, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her into his chest — clinging to instinct, gnawing at him to console her as he’s done time and time again.

“shh... shh. lena, please.” he whispers, almost in a plea, resting his chin slightly against her head. “i’m sorry...” he releases weakly, guilt washing over him completely and for a moment, it’s the only thing he can manage to say — his heart coaxing him to repeat it like a mantra. but he strings his eyebrows together, sucking in a needless breath because she deserves more than this. it’s too late for a sorry and too stupidly naive to think a weak bandaid could heal a gaping wound. he swallows down his emotions, mustering all his strength to not succumb to the ache in his chest — she needed an explanation.

“lena... look. i’m... that night is hard, okay? it happened too fast. i had to leave... immediately. it was overwhelming.” and despite his instincts wanting to hold her for many moments longer, he pulls out of the embrace if only to remain at arm’s length so she could see his sincerity. so she could see that this wasn’t some walk in the park for him, to see that he has pain similar to her own. “look, i didn’t know what was going to happen. i thought i could have died if i didn’t just... go. immediately.” and maybe he’s repeating himself a bit, but the pain and the knacking guilt is scrambling his brain and expressing coherent thoughts is the least of his problems right now because lena is upset. her sadness falls on his shoulders and perhaps, that’s what hurt the most. the thing that rests at the back of his mind and nags in his mind when all he wants to do is take away her angst.

the whole situation is its own level of overwhelming and he brings his own gaze to his feet, unable to deal with the intensity of the tension and the sentiments he wants to express. “you are the best thing that’s happened in this stupid immortal life for me. i would never... absolutely never just leave you without a goodbye for no reason.” he shakes his head at that, half upset she would even think that but he’s not dense... how could she not? he could only imagine how she thinks of him now, too. i mean, his abrupt absence combined with her prevalance in the coven... he almost doesn’t want to know what she’s been told or if she believes any of it. “tu es mon bébé. of course, i wanted to say goodbye.” he lifts his head, meaning the phrase more than ever. more than when he would use it when she was a child or whenever he would tuck her in at night. no matter the circumstance, she would always be his baby. “and if i could, i would choose it every time. but truthfully... i feared that if i didn’t leave as quickly as i did, i wouldn’t still be here today. i wasn’t going to put you through that either.”

his breath becomes shaky and now it’s his turn to close his eyes, licking his lips as he inhales once more. he reopens his lids, bringing a careful hand to her cheek, thumbing any stray tears rolling off. “the fact we are meeting in private like this is enough to know the situation we’re in, mon petit chou. i never... i didn’t want to ever hurt you like this. je t'aime. tellement.”