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Bravery.

Characters: Rue Fairchild & Davey Samuels. Setting: Lenore’s apartment, Thursday evening. Notes: -- Comments: lel

Rue: Rue could find a thousand reasons why she disdained the idea of her aunt connecting herself to this other human. It was a significant inconvenience on so many levels, chiefly because Zach felt it was necessary to push his nose into Rue's business and attempt to assert himself as some kind of father figure. The notion in and of itself made her snort in his face whenever he gave some sort of notion of caring. Days like this when the two of them were out of the house -- when they planned on being somewhere upstate doing god knew what. Rue tried not to think about it ... it made her want to gag to be frank. The moment they left the house she slipped her phone from her pocket and dialed Davey. If she was going to spend time away from Lenore it was going to be in good company. The apartment was always immaculate -- barely lived in except for days like these where Rue had already spread her shit about the house. Shirts on her floor from when she dressed after her shower, boots by the doorway, books on the island in the kitchen. She was ready to get the door when he either texted or knocked, busying herself with nonsense in the mean time.

Davey: Davey was filled with emotion, but the only problem was, he didn't know how to express it. He didn't have social manners or know when to start and stop. He was always all over the place and with secrets hiding behind his huge walls, he could collapse at any moment. It was a shit storm in his head that had been lurking for years. When he got a call from Rue he did what he always had done and trudged his way over. As he knocked on the door he didn't really bother looking his best today despite seeing the only person he ever cared about in the past couple years. Yes, he cared for Alex, but she was so tied into his old life that it became a struggle to look at her. She wouldn't let him in so why should he care. His hair was slightly pushed back but not by much gel. The front was starting to poof but the flower kingdom look ended with his leather jacket and boots.

Rue: Teeth gnawed at the piercing at her lower lip as she concentrated on scrawling out her English notes. Half of her mind was there, the rest floating into the moat of shit that brewed in her life at present. It could be easy for her to collapse into herself like the rest of the people she interacted with -- all of the girls and boys who hid in the corners of the hallways at school and cried about their problems instead of doing something about it. The people who wanted the attention for their horror show. Rue was not impressed. The rap on the door got her attention. She shifted to the entryway and plucked it open, turning back for the hall after offering him a smirk in greeting. From over her shoulder she chimed, "You look super duper cute today, by the way."

Davey: He walked in feeling the slightest bit relieved that they are still semi-functioning to what they thought was normal. He walked in, narrowing his eyes at her, before shaking his head in amusement. "I will rip that ring out of your lip with my teeth. And you know, that could go two ways. You could either be turned on to great extents or in an enormous amount of pain." He walked over, dropping his bag on the ground before he made his way over to the couch. "How come I never get a warm welcome, dearest?"

Rue: "Promise?" Into the kitchen she moved, a girlish giggle quite uncharacteristic of her person eking from her lips as she went. Rue was quick to clean up her things -- the books closed and into a pile, glass of water deposited into the sink and away from the rest of her things. The trip was quick and when it was all set she followed into the living room, deposited herself onto the cushion beside him and sat too close to him. "Welcome home, handsome. Did you have a hard day? Were the subordinates menial and ungrateful as usual? Would you like me to make it better? What can I do for you?" It didn't take long for her voice to crack into the chuckle, more like a cackle, and Rue sat back for more comfort. "So Lenore and boy toy are out of town. Probably overnight. Which means I get an actual moment of peace without having to deal with their nose in my business. You're recruited to keep me company. Congratulations, you won the lotto."

Davey: "Oh fuck yea. Just as long as you don't press charges. I know I'm pretty, but pretty boys like me get really fucked up in jail," he chuckled. The fact that they kept this routine up for days and weeks and months really stunned him. He had never allowed himself to be so free around one single person. But Rue being Rue, she just opened his walls with the jaws of life just enough for her to squeeze in and have the walls slam right behind her. She barley made it in, but now that she was, there wasn't anything that would make her leave. And Davey made sure of that. He leaned against her, " The boss was just a dick, babe. I swear, if it wasn't for our two children, I would've clocked the twat by now. Where are they anyway? Did you shrink them?" He couldn't keep a straight face, he eventually let out laughter. He ran a hand through his semi-fluffy hair, "Eck, gross, I guess since I am already here I might as well make myself comfortable. And since they're gone for the night," he said putting his legs on her lap and laying his back down on the couch. "Yeesh, I guess I'll spend the night. I could give you a makeover, make you look like one of those hipster fucks."

Rue: "I say you clock him anyway." When he kicked his legs into her lap she shifted for it, made the room. Rue herself was not an easy person to get close to. The friends she had back home had been all but crucified in their own right. People she had no reason to cut out of her life outside of the move that had zero contact with her now. If she became a millionaire and excelled to the top of the New York crust they wouldn't know unless they read the headlines, that's how kicked out they had become. But there was Davey. Davey who had quite suddenly and brilliantly become so important in his own right that it garnered him a place in her life, in the personal business that he shied away from. They hadn't spoken of it since. They wouldn't again unless he brought it up and he wouldn't, she knew. With his legs in her lap she patted his leg, absently traced a line with the tip of her index finger around the cap of his knee through his jeans. "You just want to play dress up with a life-sized doll. Or get me naked. All you have to do is ask, Davey." A small shake of her head, the small smirk still at the corners of her lips. When a moment of silence broke she shifted just-so, still tracing lines, "So the lovely therapist I've been seeing thinks she made a breakthrough. Apparently I'm a coward."

Davey: "Oh but dear, how on earth would I support you?" He looked up at the coffee table and ran his hands through his fluffy/stiff hair. Tonight the only thing he had in mind was getting drunk but being with Rue takes the cake, 100 percent. Truth be told, He'd do anything for her and even though he can't say it out loud or let his own mind hear it, he knows its true. He just needs a hyper kick to the ass. Some of the time, he didn't know if she was joking or she was actually being serious. Either way, Davey was fine with it. "I'd like to dress you, yea. But oh I'd love to get you naked." His eyebrows furrowed and he moved his head back to lay on the cushion. "Coward? You're not a fucking coward. But please do explain."

Rue: "You could be a stay at home dad to your kids and I'll tap into the hidden money left to me by my dearest auntie Lenore." At that idea Rue snorted completely, shaking her head before she let it roll back onto the rest of the chair. With her eyes tracing the same patterns into the ceiling that she did into his leg she fell silent. It was all of a few minutes before the smile widened and Rue wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, "You talk a big game about getting me naked, biting my piercing, my tiny tits but you're just a lazy ass who sits around and --talks-- about it." It took a moment for her to consider how to word the next bit, but when she did get there her tone was more quiet than anything, "I think she's right, really. There are a lot of things I want in my life and I never take the initiative to reach out and pluck them for myself. I just kind of keep pushing people away when I really want them closer. I did it back home, too. It's not like I have a thousand years to play the games and get people where I want them, you know? So I am a coward. But ... you don't think so?" She shifted slightly, allowing her head to loll sideways to take the sight of him in. The way he rested, his loped motions, how relaxed he always appeared like nothing mattered. He was admirable with that, even if there was stress roiling down below. Rue could stare at him for hours ... but she always took to looking away prematurely, fearful he'd catch her. Cowardly.

Davey: "Bullshit," he scoffed not knowing what to say about that statement because he knew it was that. Bullshit. Davey nodded and held up his hands in defeat, "I know, I know. Maybe one day I'll grow some balls and actually fucking do something about it." He sat back and watched as she explained what her therapist said. He tried to listen but he was always taken away by her, but he would never tell anyone that. He was supposed to be the person with no problems although he was just about to pop from suppressing them. "I don't think so."

Rue: "When was the last time you saw me do something brave, eh?" For a moment she paused her lines, leaned down a but and narrowed her eyes before she picked a stray hair from his jeans and tossed it into the air before her. It was easy to pull herself away from the moment like this -- a perfect example of the cowardice she was capable of. "So she thinks that I should try a new thing where I do the things I initially think about doing, granted they can't be damaging to myself or others. So no more binge nights of just drugging my arms full of god knows what. But other impulses, I should try them out and see how it goes. Personally I think it sounds completely fucked, but we'll see, right? I mean, what's the worst that can come from acting the way that my favorite fuckboy does every day?" Her tone took a soft lilt at the end, that sly grin cracking at her once again before she turned her hues back to him more fully. "So here's the vote: do I be 'brave' or do I live in my comfortable turtle shell?"

Davey: "You became close with me. And let's face it, the only people whoever get close to me either get hurt, shut out, or overall give up. That's pretty fucking brave considering you know that and still don't know that much about me, but I suppose that's my fault. You know I'm not open and you still trust me when you are, and that's the bravest thing anybody can ever fucking do." He shifted on the couch, slipping his jacket off to leave him in a tight black T. "You see, I don't live life like that, and I don't think anybody really does. But I guess that's just your therapist trying to determine something wrong. But my thoughts mean shit," he pondered for a moment, "Yea don't listen to me. I'm just a fuckboy." He laughed again, resting his arms behind his head, "Be brave."

Rue: "I don't know how we got close, truthfully," it was something she did allow herself to think about. Their interactions were always sarcastic and comical, something that took only surface interactions to conjure. Over time she realized the change, that they didn't bump into one-another randomly, that they decidedly spent more time together. He was the first person she told about her issue, the only one she really trusted with it. Maybe that was why she panicked when he pushed himself away. That was why she picked the little piece of his past that she knew about and confronted her in a coffee shop. Admittedly that took courage. Deep down she knew that if Davey discovered she had gone to speak with Alex about him behind his back he would turn sour again. It was hard work to keep from telling him the truth, it was easy to do. "What I know about you I know from spending time with you. If it's important enough you'll talk about it. Otherwise ... I've gathered it from observation." Observation ... watching. Like she as doing now, when he shifted to shed the jacket. Somehow he always managed to look so at ease, so rested in whatever scenario he was in. She only saw him panic once, it was her fault entirely. But he softened her, somehow he softened her and all of the rough edges that she came with. That was terrifying. "Be brave, huh?" Whatever possessed her was incensed by how carefree his tone was -- like it was a matter of fact decision that she was foolish not to have realized already. Be brave. She was, in that moment. Brave enough to push his legs just slightly off of her lap, enough to give her space to move toward him. Brave enough to swallow the many things that suggested it was a poor idea in total, to lean over his relaxed figure, to give the softest brush of her metal-pierced lips against his own. Brave enough to steal a pointed kiss from the person she considered herself closest to. Brave enough to visibly enjoy it, to close her eyes and taste his tiers for a moment, even if it was more brief than most kisses she had ever taken. Brave, but smart enough to back away, to dump herself back into her seat as if she hadn't done it at all. Prepared enough for a storm. Or so she thought.

Davey: Davey laughed and shook his head, "Truth? You are the only person I can stand here," he took a deep breath. "I feel suffocated by fuckers here. There used to be a girl who was convinced that there was something wrong with me. "Davey," she said "Why are you so bitter Davey." That's the worst possible thing that people do. And that's how I determine who's the right one for me." He turned towards Rue, letting his head roll in her direction. "You weren't a fucker to that extent." He pulled out a cigarette and placed it in between his fingers, but his actions were interrupted by his legs getting pushed off Rue. He narrowed his eyes as she came closer to him, not sure what to do, what to think, whether to speak or not. But as her lip ring traced the outline of his bottom lip, shivers shot up his spine but when her lips were pressed onto his, he was incapable of moving. He wanted to pull her closer, kiss her like he wanted, run his large rough hands through her soft short hair but he couldn't. He was frozen. But when she pulled away, his eyes snapped open. He just stared at her. He begged himself to do something, but again. He did and said nothing.

Rue: At the very very center of Rue, beneath the thick and reinforced walls that she had erected ages ago so lovingly dressed with barbed wire and any other number of horrible things, was a little girl. Frozen at an age that was too tender to lose her mother in the manner that she had, young still to come into the room and find her father the way that she did -- she never spoke about finding her father. She never spoke about the blood, the visions, the nightmares she used to have of the whole scene unfurling. At the very center of Rue was the girl who froze there and hid away, the one that this person she appeared to be wrapped her arms around and soothed when the fear of it all came crashing back in. She had promised herself years ago that there would be no more sleepless nights, that there would be no tears or shaking, no more hot showers at 2 AM to quell the quakes that came from a nightmare. She had done right by herself for it, that little girl had remained protected and cushioned within the fortress, almost as if she were sleeping peacefully for the first time in ages. But she was there now, in her eyes and on her face, softening Rue's expression to something she was sure that Davey had never seen before. Still as a statue save for the way she pulled at her piercing, the soft click of the metal against her teeth like a gentle and rhythm-less tempo, she said nothing. She did nothing. She froze like a deer stuck in the lights save for the chew of her lip that anyone knew meant nerves or thought. In this case both. This was delicate, she had put this somewhere delicate. He was eligible to bolt again, and again it would be on her. So she sat quietly, staring into nothingness, the softness of a child on her face.

Davey: Davey watched as her face softened. He was still stuck. It was like he was watching himself be frozen. Just like when he was boy. Age 8.9.10.11.12.13.14.15. He stood. He froze. He watched. He felt. He watched his mother get beaten to oblivion. He watched his mother get so scared and injured that she left him there. She left him there with a madman. But who could blame her? He just stood there and took the blows from his dad. Even when his father laid hands on Davey, he just stood and took them. He didn't move, he was always a coward, which didn't make sense when Rue had said that he wasn't because truth be told, he was the biggest of them all. It took until he was a teenager, his mother leaving, and his best friend dying for him to realize that he would have to rot in jail for the rest of his life. But lucky Davey. He was out. Davey didn't know how the terrible man was out but he was. Now his reaction could be to kiss her again or freeze and free her from his tangled mess of a life he was living. It was now clear that whoever had gotten close to Davey had either ended up gone, dead, or just hating him. He didn't want that for Rue. He quickly jumped off the couch as his mind cursed him. He just wanted to stay and be with her but he couldn't. It was like an inner battle of Romeo and Juliet except Romeo was damaged, hated, and in the image of an asshole and Juliet didn't have parents, didn't trust authority figures and they both were in the palms of each other. All they had to do was give themselves up to each other. "I gotta go," he muttered, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

Rue: The world was stuck in a buffer solution, sounds and actions were completely dulled to the sensations around her. She was aware of the silence between them, Rue could practically feel the gears turning in his head when he decided what he was going to do. Then he stood and nearly put himself on the other side of the room and she knew, she -knew- she had put a wedge between them that she wouldn't be able to pull out. The idea that she had done it, that he would disappear from her the moment that his fingers touched the doorknob made her roll her eyes closed. It was like a slap in the face on some level, but she couldn't say that she didn't expect it. As quick as she felt the sting of tears, something she absolutely detested (they were weakness, and nobody got to see her in that state but herself ... and even then she chased them away) she swiped her thumb along the line of her lashes to be rid of them. Rue gave a small nod, not for understanding but because she didn't quite know how to protest. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave. She'd rather he forget she did that at all. But she responded with a soft, "Right," instead, her voice hoarse and timid, slightly shaken for the thin and stretched attempt to hide the moisture that threatened her still. She would punish herself for this longer than he would distance himself. This much she knew.

Davey: Davey only had a small part of a heart left and whether or not it was small or large, it was for Rue. And he had realized that when she had kissed him. But he also realized that he couldn't bring himself to do this to her. She was an unknown creature living in a habitat made for a deer when he was dealing with something more elegant and deadly. He was dealing with Rue, someone to run in a garden of thorns with. Not roses. They were opposite from ordinary. Dangerously different. Davey went to grab his jacket, his heart crashing in his chest as he saw her sit there. "I'm sorry."

Rue: Rue nodded, swiped at the lower lids of her eyes again with her thumb and allowed herself to stand -- willed herself with all of her strength not to appear as childish as she felt, small or otherwise. She even dared herself to look at him though she knew that the damnable blue of her eyes gave away the smallest lilt of emotion that she would never otherwise say. They swam with the immediate regret of her actions, nearly apologizing in and of their own right, but the words didn't bubble up to hit her tongue at all. They caught in her throat, the ones she wanted to really say at least, and all she gave was the small voice still, "No, don't be. I am. I uh ... it's on me. It's on me." Immediately she dropped her gaze, rounded the couch and disappeared down the hall for her room. At least, in her head, if she left first she didn't have to watch him go. It made no difference, but it was the only rationalization she could give.

Davey: Davey's fists curled up into balls at his side. He clenched his hands so hard that his knuckles were turning to white. White like the color that now took over his face. He didn't know what to. Everything was unraveling in front of him. Not again, he thought. He couldn't lose her. As she left the room, he stood there ready to go but his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn't leave because his heart was still here and yes, that was a cheesy but for Davey, it was more. Rue had completely warped him. Yes, she left his strong fucking exterior but his interior was getting softer and softer but he couldn't take the feeling tugging at his chest. His fist collided with wall nearest him and he couldn't even feel the stinging feeling that shot through his arm. All the blood was pumping too fast. "Fuck," he shouted.

Rue: She was half way down the hall when she heard the slam. It was enough to stop her where she was, to seize the entirety of her body and stay put for what felt like too many long moments. His curse had her cringe for the sharpness of it, so much noise in an open space to echo and bounce around like it had nothing better to do at all. Half way to sanctuary where she didn't have to look at his face, to see the reaction he garnered for the ill-begotten bravery that so many people had forced onto her. More than that, it was herself that she could condemn. Still she turned around, made for the mouth of the hallway and stared for a moment at him, connecting the dots to what happened and arriving at the conclusion relatively quickly. Rue was quiet on her feet, some part of her snapping back to the moments of a young teenage life where she would pace to the kitchen to fetch things that her father never asked for to help him, to take care of him because he had been so incapable of doing it himself. She wasn't sure Davey would even accept it, but she plucked gel ice pack from the freezer regardless and wrapped it in the clean dish towel they had hanging in front of the stove. She was quiet like a whisper on the way back into the living room, keeping tear-glazed eyes away from his face as she reached for his hand without asking and slipped the wrapped ice over the knuckles, assumption of which hand it was based off of angry redness.

Davey: His jaw was clenched and he looked down at his trembling hand. He lost it. He lost the will and the control that he had worked so hard to maintain. He was his father, he was turning into the demon that was his indeed his despicable father. His greatest fear was turning into the one hated the most. The fear consumed him and ate him at the core of his existence. "Sorry" he mumbled as she walked away to the kitchen and not long after he felt a cooling sensation on his knuckles. He took his uninjured hand and placed it under Rue's chin and made her look at him. "Don't cry over me, don't be sad. I'm not worth it." He bit back the rest of his words, not wanting her to see him in such a state where he was so insecure and afraid.

Rue: All of her focus and concentration was on the proper placement of the ice on his knuckles. She justified, in her mind, that it was the most important thing in the moment but the obvious nature of its distraction served the greater purpose. Even if, momentarily, she could keep the nasty chastising comments from floating around her mind it seemed important, and she did ... all the more surprising when she felt his fingers at her chin. How unlike herself she must have appeared to him, weepy and unsure of herself in direct contrast to the hardened girl he knew so well. It was pathetic, and the moment she caught sight of his face she was aware of how horrid it was to be there. -Look at what you did, you silly little girl- the little voice in her head chimed and when he spoke she was as still as the grave for fear he would grow angry again, or fear that he would peel his hand away and disappear from the apartment ... or more importantly her life. The finalization of his statement forced a furrow to her brow and indignation crossed her features in that moment before she spoke surely out of turn, "You are to me." In the last word was the fight she was capable of, as if it alone were meant to justify the entire statement and sway his mind. Some part of Rue understood that it was hard for Davey to realize his importance to her, the rest lay with the awareness of herself and how open she was to his judgments as a whole.

Davey: Davey took a step back from her, leaving the ice pack in her hands. Was he really being this much of a fool to realize that happiness was the answer right in front of him. Apparently so. He took the words she said as something to keep and ponder later but right now he needed what he always apparently needed, /space/. He lost control of his temper by just one look and one action from this girl and no, in no way was this her fault but it was his. He let everything take over and that was on him for he has to work and keeping it locked away in the dark and deep part of his mind. He walked towards the door and without another word he opened and stepped out into a lonely empty.

Rue: The physical disconnect was probably the hardest blow of all. While she was sure there were many things she could have said or done to keep him there, or at least attempt to, Rue said nothing at all. Silence was her biggest enemy and what she was left to once the door snapped shut behind him. A few days vacation from her aunt that was meant to be spent in the presence of her best friend would now be clouded in that very silence -- she had nobody to blame but herself for it. Stupid for seeking more from their friendship than was there, or so the perception she took dictated, and entirely dejected from the situation Rue felt quite cold. Likely from the tears that had slowly eked from her eyes despite how many times she had swiped them away, or despite how she willed them to not go. Now that he wasn't in the apartment they stopped entirely, almost a mockery of her attempts to keep them hidden. She was beyond livid with herself for reading it all wrong, for assuming more when it just wasn't there. It took minutes, perceived as hours in the chilly emptiness, for her to shift from her position. Rue passed by the kitchen and tossed the ice pack toward the sink ... whether or not it made it in she didn't stop to check. Down the hall to her room where she slammed the door shut so hard that the frame shook around it. Into something all too familiar she went: pulling the curtains shut on her windows, clipping all lights off, slipping beneath the blankets and quite literally throwing her phone into the drawer of her bed side table after setting it to "off' entirely, Rue took to punishing herself as she always had.

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