The Devils Son

-independent roleplay for William 'Cap' Hatfield. Historical RP and based on the History channels mini series. sideblog so no follow backs.

[elizabethxbrooke]

   There was always something funny in the way he could reverse his guilt on her. And she believed it too. Despite how wrong he was, she still saw him in the light, held him higher up than anyone should be revered. Maybe because he left. Maybe because he didn’t regard her opinion higher than those of his family’s. A small part of her hated his family for it, but he was here now.

   Elizabeth sighed when he spoke. The way his voice carried over into her loft, her private space - the one she shared with her husband - made her feel like he belonged. That was true, wasn’t it? Everywhere she went, he was there. Like a permanent mark on the skin that no one could see, left to fester underneath the flesh. She held him close to her heart. If he told her he hated her, she’d love him all the more.

   Looking at him now made her remember everything she loved about him. The light was dimmer in the doorway of her loft and it made his eyes look darker than they were. If she got closer, he might turn around and walk away. There was the question of his worth. If she could remember what she loved about him then he was worth the risk. He was worth everything. After he left her to fend for herself, was he still worth it?

   Even if the answer evaded her at the  moment, she still had him standing before her right now and that’s all she needed. Forget the reasons, throw away the motives. Nobody needs those anyway. All they do is tarnish what once was perfect, mar the immaculate. And Elizabeth believed William was infallible – even though he left for what she thought had been good. 

   There was no question about it. He didn’t even have the decency to ask to be let in. It made her feel like he never left at all. Control over her unlike any other. Making her do what she didn’t want to do but convincing herself she wanted it. Not blindly but willingly. Wanting that convincing to work itself into her mind and make her belong to him. Because without him, she was nothing. And she couldn’t refuse him, not after losing him once before.

   She moved from the door frame then stepped aside, holding the door open for him. No questions asked. She’d already said her piece. She’d let him know just how she felt. Now was the time to make up for lost time, to make up for one’s own mistakes. William deserved that chance. She wanted nothing more than to give it to him.

   “I wish it wasn’t so easy to let you in like this,” she said with a faded smile and a heavy heart. She didn’t look at him either. Giving in too easily would bore him, wouldn’t it?

   She walked inside before he got the chance to enter, leaving the door for him to get. The living area of the loft was dark except for the chance lighting from the crescent moon just over the hills. Furniture was sparse and decorations were lacking on the walls. She sat on the couch where it rested by one of the several floor length windows and waited on him, watching where he’d sit since there was another set of chairs across from her.

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He walked inside. Knowing that maybe it shouldn’t be so easy for him to walk inside as well. He should have left well enough alone. Leave her alone. Because he was better off. That was a crazy way of thinking. Because when you really love someone it should be the other way around. And he did love her. Loved her maybe a little too much. Sometimes it verged on him feeling a little bit sick.

He shouldn’t love someone like this. He wasn’t meant to. Sure, he had been bred in war. Of course there was some rage there, there was some turmoil. But love in his home was always simple. Simple and nice, good. The way love ought to be. And if this wasn’t how it was supposed to be then what did that make it?

He didn’t want to think though. He was tired of all this thinking. Wondering. Trying to piece together his feelings for her. Because Elizabeth was the only one who could single handedly tear him to shreds.

That meant he loved her.

As much as he would deny that it was fact. Pure and simple fact. And standing here now with her he knew that he couldn’t keep pushing it aside. Trying to call it something else because he wasn’t used to the feel of it. Wasn’t used to the crash and burn of it all.

But he had come all this way for her. He had come back. And he knew what that meant besides what his thoughts told him. He knew what he felt when he looked over at her. In this empty house. So big to him. So empty and big. And he wondered if she ever got lost in this place. Trying to find something. But what would she find here?

He stopped, not wanting to sit down. The place looked like a cold empty picture. And he didn’t like it. He wouldn’t get comfortable. New York was a place where homes didn’t feel like home. Back in West Virginia. A home felt like one, comfortable, warm, full of love and happiness. Even with all their losses he could always remember his family being warm.

Family mattered so much to him.

He looked at her for a long moment. Just looking. And he thought that maybe she was aware of that. Maybe she’d think he was tearing her apart. Well, let her think that. Let her think whatever the hell she wanted to think. She was always going to do that anyways, she was always going to be what she was.

But he might change that. Might. Could. Wasn’t sure if he wanted to. She spent most of her life getting what she wanted, didn’t she? So he should go. Except that would mean taking something out of himself.

Funny, his mom said love was never selfish. Never puffed up.

Well, this wasn’t some story book version of love, he knew that. He knew that this was reality. This was real. She was real. He was real. No dreams or illusions. He knew they would come to this point eventually. The point that led them to the question, that one question.

Are we going to do this?

It hadn’t been answered. Because he disappeared. And had she waited? He liked to think that she had. He took a step forward. Towards her. Wanting to see her better. The emptiness could cloud his eyes.

“Were you waiting for me?”

[elizabethxbrooke]

She didn’t answer the door for the longest time. She was hesitant to let him in. A part of her begged for release, to leave, to hide away in herself and fall asleep so that by tomorrow he would be gone. As if sleeping away the memory of him was any easier, as if she never dreamed of him at all. He was always on her mind and, God, she hated it. The easy way he took her life over, the not so subtle way he owned every part of her like she was made just for him. Standing by the door, torn between wanting to open it and wanting to walk away, she rested her head back against the wall and thought of all the possibilities. They were laid out before her, some of them blurred together like the reasons didn’t make sense. Photographs of what could be, of the inevitable. It was a chance she’d have to take. Despite what might happen, she belonged to William. And even though he left her to fend for herself he was still here, almost like he’d never been away. Saying it over and over again made it feel real. If she said it enough times then the lies would dissolve. He loved her, didn’t he? He loved her and wanted her and he was right here, right now, at her door. She glanced at the door like that could make him go away. She sighed, both frustrated and weary. There was this situation she’d been thrust into. There was her husband who, now missing, still cast his shadow over her wherever she went. She wondered if that would make a difference with William at all. She wondered if her husband would haunt her from beyond the grave as all untimely deaths do. She killed him to remove him from her life but he was present more than ever. With a tired sigh, she moved towards the door, standing in front of it, her hand hovering above the handle. She contemplated letting this go, leaving him out there in the hallway. Her neighbors in the loft across from her might call the police but she doubted it. For now, William wasn’t making a ruckus and, for that, she was glad. She wanted him gone. She wanted him to leave for good. Everything in her life was getting back to normal - except for her dead husband’s presence. Everything was coming together again. This was just a disruption. And he had come back into her life just to ruin it. So she opened the door. And what did she expect to find? She wanted him broken and bent. She wanted him begging for her forgiveness. She wanted him on his knees, giving her all the reasons why she ought to take him back. But then a part of her didn’t care much for that at all. As long as he’s here. As long as he’s willing to come out from West Virginia just to see her. That was more than enough.

"William — " but she couldn’t manage to say anything else. She waited on what he would do. She depended on him, even for that. And it was both embraced and pushed away.

"… what’re you doing here?" She asked. Not what do you want, not why are you here. She asked what like there was something he forgot to do, something he was supposed to have done. She rested her head against the door post, releasing the door so that she could catch him in case he fell. And she waited for what felt like an eternity on him to answer.

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He almost gave up. She was taking too long to answer the door. And he didn’t want to stand here waiting for her. He was better at giving up than he was at waiting. Patience was not a virtue that ran through him. His mama had let him know that. And the only people he never would give up on were his family. Elizabeth could not meet that sort of importance. What was she to him?

That was a question he had asked himself a lot back home. Sitting there with his mama as they eased his daddy into the next steps. Phases that he had to suffer through. The end was always hard. And now he was gone. The fighting had taken it’s toll on him. It was over. But they all saw it behind their closed eyes.

The things they had done in the name of family.

In the name of love.

He had asked himself about Elizabeth. He hadn’t come up with an answer. He had thought of telling his mama about her. The old line of ‘I’ve met someone’ too damned complicated when it came to her. But she had a life planned out for him, a wife she wanted him to have. She had big dreams and she had every right to them. Because she had lost the other half of her. That’s what she said.

The other half. Elizabeth was not his other half. She was something else entirely. Separate from him. And yet she still existed within him. Something misplaced, a sore. Something that festers and eats away. And he wasn’t sure if he could ever be rid of it.

Did he even want to be?

He was taking small steps backwards. But then the door opened. Finally it opened. And he really didn’t even have to think anymore if he didn’t want to. He could just look at her. Looking was easier than thinking. But she was talking. He had always hated talking. Her question had to be answered though. He knew that.

“You left.” But that was funny, wasn’t it? Because he had been the one who had just up and left. Left the state without a word, without so much as a phone call. And here he was telling her he was here because she had walked away. Maybe she was good without him, better off. But nothing about Elizabeth could never be good.

He scoffed. At his own answer. At the situation itself. Why hadn’t he stayed home? He was needed back there. He was good there. New York wasn’t meant for the likes of him. The track was always going too fast and she was here. She was here.

“I didn’t think we were done talking. Let me in.”

[elizabethxbrooke]

There were several meanings behind his confession, weren’t there? Or was that her own twisted way of thinking, always making something out of nothing and evaluating what doesn’t need a study. She was reaching too far deep, wanting him but hating him, wanting him to love her either way.

It was almost painful to look into his eyes. A strange darkness had clouded his perception of her. Maybe she was always this weak and frail thing. Maybe she was always this broken and self-destructive. He knew it. He could read her like a torn and tattered book. Here he was. Right here, with her. He even said it like he had to convince himself that it was real.

What, she wondered, were his responsibilities? And why did he feel the need to return after her husband’s disappearance? She asked herself over and over again, making up the easiest answers to believe in. Elizabeth believed in what she wanted to believe in though. And she liked that one thought of him coming out here just to see her. 

She withdrew into herself. Even though she knew she was the reason for his stay, she needed an argument that would make him say it. A very small truth that, to her, designed the labyrinth in her mind. Everything was so confusing. Everything was twisted and bent and broken. Without him, she was bound to wander like she was right now; lost and devoid of emotion. All she wanted was to go back to those nights when it was just the two of them, hiding away from the real world and falling into each other. There was nothing but him. She hated him for it.

"Yes. You’re here now and I don’t know why." She said, even though he gave an explanation. She was weary all of a sudden. She felt like falling asleep. "After all this time —- "

That was the part she wanted to understand. Now, today. This hour, this minute. Why? There were expectations but even those could be swept aside. It was all about timing. A perfect coincidence. But things didn’t work that way with William. He did what he had to do, took what he wanted. He’d wanted her. Now that her husband was dead, William was free to reclaim what was lost. She couldn’t make it that easy for him.

" —— I don’t think I can do this, William. I’ve changed. Everything’s changed. My husband… " She quieted her voice then leaned forward on the table, taking a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was listening. 

"… my husband is gone. Why should I stay to listen to your excuses? I’m leaving." And even though she didn’t want to she stood up then walked away.

[thecaphatfield-blog]

She walked away. Just like that. Like there was no other option left to the both of them. He didn't get it. He didn't get what she had expected. Him to sit around and wait on her, wait on her while she was married. That was something that he knew that he would never do. Wait. He hated the idea of waiting, of putting so much into something to get nothing back. He wasn't willing to over exhaust himself for her sake.

But she was walking away and something in him was being tugged at. Go after her. Only he knew he wasn't going to go after her. He made himself sit there and watch her go. Did she want him to chase after her? Like she had wanted him to wait. Had she waited?

When she had disappeared from his line of sight he got up with a heavy sigh. He looked out the window, down at the street. Full of so many damn people. Back home the streets were mostly empty but everyone was alive. Everyone in New York looked dead to him. So damned dead.

He should've stayed back home. Should've built a life for himself again over there. His parents had asked him to stay. Asked what was in the Big City that he had to go back. That after clearing up some messes he had to leave them once they were just wobbling on their feet. They wanted him back.

Looking around he didn't see much of anything to come back for. Looking around he was all full of second guesses. Maybe he should've stayed gone. Stayed away from Elizabeth. But he knew that he didn't want to do that. He wanted to come back not to the life he had here. His life was bleak, shades and shadows, nothing to hold onto. The Big City didn't hold much of anything. Just a lot of dead people wearing living masks. Only Elizabeth. But maybe she was counted as one of them.

He stayed away though. Telling himself that he had to. Telling himself he didn't want to see her. It worked for a while. A week. And then it was working on two. And he thought that he was getting a hold on things. Passing days and nights with work, with drinks, a call home every now and then. Until he wound up knocking on her door, it was late and he was praying she wouldn't open it. But he was still standing there waiting.

[elizabethxbrooke]

That, she remembered, is what bound them; the unbreakable silence that stretched over days and nights. And no matter what either of them had to say it went unsaid. Maybe because they understood each other without having to say a word. Maybe they reached the unreachable. She was afraid of him back then. She was afraid of his understanding and his persistence. She had been so vulnerable. Or maybe, she wondered, it was the silence that swallowed them up. The words that needed to be spoken aloud for her to believe in were the very ones he withheld. It couldn’t be this idealistic version of perfect understanding between them. There was not enough love for that, was there? She tried to convince herself that she was wrong but came up with empty promises, devoid of any real substance. She had convinced herself this whole time that she hated him yet, as he sat before her, she felt nothing but the swell of love rise up in her chest. And her heart began to beat harder. No, she told herself. No this is not love. She was naive to the sorrows of the world around her but this, with him, was a pain she had carved into her heart. There was only silence because neither knew what the other wanted, There was only silence because words had altogether vanished from their educated minds. And she was left with the truth of who they were. Nothing and nothing and nothing. She sighed. Where had they left off? Not even she could remember. Something about her husband… getting him out of the picture for good… and then she left almost as abruptly as he did. He had nothing to do with the plan. It was all just childish talk if children discussed the gruesome details of murder. This was her fight now. Once he left, she made sure this fight was hers. He’d’ve known the struggle had he been around. But he left before she could even tell him she was leaving to Europe. He was gone, cut out of her life like he had never been there once before. He left her to carry out the plans on her own, to see it all through by herself, to live with the consequences. It wasn’t his fault. They had only ever talked about it in passing. She felt abandoned by him. Why let him do it again? She leaned forward on the table. Her movements were slow enough to give him time to protest. She was tired of him. She was tired of a great lot of things. "What’s the use, William?" She sighed again. "You left me. You left me alone to deal with him. You left and now you’ve come back when he’s gone, when things have gotten better. Why now? Of all times, why did you have to come back now?"

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He hadn't come back for her. That was what he first thought to say. Another insulting jab to make sure that she would never come back again. Because West Virginia had been a good break from the madness of New York. Home had been a solace from the storm that he always saw looking back at him whenever he looked at her.

But he knew why he had come back. He could say work, he could say anything but the truth. Only he wasn't sure how to lie to her. He didn't think he could lie to her. He hadn't before. Even though things weren't good or simple, even though things were only fragments between them. He knew that he couldn't lie to her.

He knew so well how to avoid, how to pretend. How to act like nothing mattered, not even her. He knew how to lie to himself. But not looking into her eyes. Because he remembered how she was when she was stripped before him, no defense. He remembered she had been his for a few moments, and he had could've done with her as he pleased. He could've snapped her neck or loved her over and over and she wouldn't have cared. She was a creature made for love like she was for destruction. He used to know they weren't the same thing. But looking at her now he wasn't so sure anymore.

Everything thrown out now. All his schoolyard teachings, all the good things his mama taught him right before bed. In between bed time stories and bed time prayers. All the good in his life washed out with blood. But that was madness, wasn't it? He had been okay until he met her. Maybe a little washed out, a little unhappy but he had been okay.

Okay was a dim light, dull and fading, something he didn't want anything to do with. He didn't want to ever be okay again. He wanted to be right here. He had come back for her. He thought of her every day. He cursed her every night. She had a place between the things that mattered and the ones that failed to. She had a place for herself deep inside of him.

He reached for her hand, not caring if she pulled away, slapped him, or took it into hers. He wanted to be close to her again. Her husband was gone. Gone. Like they had talked about. And maybe he had ran away because of that, maybe he had left because in spite of the things he carried with him he didn't think he could kill a man because he wanted something from him.

"I had to come back. I have responsibilities here....I.." Forming a lie on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed it back. He gripped her hand tighter. "I thought I could just forget. I couldn't. So here I am. I have a world of expectations, he's gone, of course I do. And I shouldn't. But I'm here now."

[talesofflowersandknivesarch-blog]

Keeping Up Appearances | LJ and Cap

[talesofflowersandknivesarch-blog]

His question forced her to close her eyes for a moment, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.  ”This is my job, William.”  She crossed her arms in front of her chest then, sighing.  ”But to answer your question, yes.  I get tired of this.”  In reality, LJ didn’t need to work, but she was too used to this.  It kept her toes still into the world that she had spent most of her life in.  

Turning her eyes back on William, she cocked her head to the side.  ”Don’t you ever get tired of being a lawyer?”  

[thecaphatfield-blog]

Of course she got tired of it. She didn't fit this life. But something told him that she would get tired of any life she had. It'd give her something to talk about if she was tired. And from what he saw he guessed she liked to talk.

"Sure. But it pays." he said with a small shrug. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me about my family or told me any stories about when I was gone."

[elizabethxbrooke]

There were several questions begging to be asked. She didn’t know where to start. None of them made a difference though. The one question she had to ask was why. Why, she wondered over and over. Why and why and why —- and the more she asked it, the more she resented him. But it was so hard to hate him now because he was sitting before her, looking at her with the hint of expectation lingering in his eyes, waiting on her to begin the interrogation. Why… but it didn’t matter which answer he gave because it would suffice. She lost herself all of a sudden and all at once. She wanted him to find her. She wanted him to love her again. She wanted to go back where they started off. She wanted a great deal of things but nothing would ever be the same. Elizabeth lowered her eyes. His stare was impenetrable. She remembered that about him. Trying to discard the layers enveloping the darkest of his thoughts was like unveiling the Devil at a masquerade. He had so much to hide and, even though she wanted to know him, she made no attempt to uncover his secrets. He knew hers though. In his unassuming way, he knew everything about her without either of them saying a word. He knew what kind of woman she was. He knew what she needed from a man who refused to give into her childish demands. And he knew she hated to be refused yet he refused her all the same. When he left, he showed her that he could go on living without her. And where most people would be afraid to upset her he wasn’t. Maybe it was his boldness she liked so much. Maybe it was his independence and rebellious nature. She didn’t consider that it might be how he unknowingly put her in her place. She liked that but didn’t know how to admit it.

So asking him why he left and where he went off to would be invasive questions to start with. She didn’t want to probe into his whereabouts or wonder what he’d done in the meantime. All she wanted was him right here, right now. He returned —- that’s what mattered.

"I wouldn’t know where to begin. I have so much to ask but… does it matter? You did what you had to do, now you’re back." She lowered her eyes because she couldn’t bear the look he might give her. Would he think she was weak or needy? Or maybe he’d see her as just another victory he’d won over a formidable woman. "And now we can pick up where we left off —- can’t we?"

[thecaphatfield-blog]

She was cold  when he first approached her. Cold and then warm. Like she was suddenly fading into something that wasn't exactly real. But still it suited her just right. And maybe he liked that about her. How she slipped from her coldness to that for him. Only him. It was a selfish thought, borderline needy and he didn't like the way it felt in his head. But it was there. It was always going to be there and there wasn't any way of stopping it. So he wasn't even gonna try at it. He had tried. And failed. Failing was the worst kind of shame when it came to women. Because then you always go back. No matter what you always go back.

So she was right. He had come back and none of it really did matter. Not anymore at least. None of it mattered at all. It was simply just the two of them. Things could be that simple. Only he was fooling himself. Elizabeth was hardly the women back home. Still old fashioned, still wanting nothing more than a roof over their heads and a baby in their bellies. She was anything that wasn't simple.

But she was right.

He didn't want to say that though. Didn't want to sit there and tell she was right. Come on and let's go where ever we were back then. It felt like an hundred years ago, it felt like mere hours. He didn't want to just give in. He couldn't. He knew the truth. He knew he had made plans to never come on back. He knew that he hadn't wanted to. That his family needed him. That his world back there was better suited for him.

Had she dragged him all the way back here? No. He wouldn't admit to that kind of weakness. He wouldn't be weak. He'd be anything but that. He'd be taught on strength and he wasn't going to let her waste all that away. He'd been taught and that was what mattered.

Not that he was back. Not that she was right there before him. She was wrong. And that was a much more simple and easier truth to confess to. She was wrong and she was never going to be right.

"But where did we leave off?" he asked as if he didn't remember. As if she wasn't this deep embedded stain that he couldn't wash off no matter how much he tried. Back home was supposed to clear his head, no matter how bad it got. And yet it hadn't. His mama told him he looked different. And he cursed Elizabeth in his heart. He had decided that day he wasn't ever coming back.

"What are we picking up on? I don't remember there being much of anything but quiet."

[whatever-you-write]

I have buried you in every place I’ve been. You keep ending up in my shaking hands.

— Bon Iver

[talesofflowersandknivesarch-blog]

Keeping Up Appearances | LJ and Cap

[talesofflowersandknivesarch-blog]

She let out a small sigh, biting down on the inside of her cheek.  ”It’s my job here to greet people as they walk into the gallery, William.”  LJ replied, almost sickeningly sweet in her tone.  ”What brings you back to New York?  Let alone the gallery that I’ve worked at since you’ve known me.”  The blonde did what she could to not cross her arms in front of her chest while standing next to the infuriating man.

"I do hope you enjoy the showcase.  It’s mostly student artwork, but I never discount them.  There have been some amazing pieces come through here during these things."  She tried to keep things business like, but the urge to push his buttons would always be in the back of her mind.

[thecaphatfield-blog]

"I guess I will." he said with a shrug of his shoulders, his eyes moving around the gallery. It was always set up pretty nice. Nothing like this back home. Maybe that's why he liked it. Maybe thats why he hated the hell out of it.

He turned to look at her with a small smile. Slight and vague. There was nothing funny. But there was no other reaction to the question he was going to ask. "Don't you ever get tired of this shit?" he asked, knowing she must. Stuffy didn't suit her.

[saemisch-deactivated20160319]

They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald, “This Side of Paradise” (via le-renard-merde)

[dangerouspotatomannnn]

"You see her when you close your eyes Maybe one day you’ll understand why Everything you touch surely dies But you only need the light when it’s burning low Only miss the sun when it starts to snow Only know you love her when you let her go”

(via dangerouspotatoman)

[tatliseytan1]

[magnificent-c]

Tuba Büyüküstün for Elle Magazine

[aseaofquotes]

Oscar Wilde, Salome

[thecaphatfield-blog]

elizabeth-x-brooke​

The sound of his voice was enough to make her stay, and she hated herself for that one moment of weakness. She stood there without an argument. She had to think on which answer to give. When he left, she hated him. She hated him so damn much she thought she’d go insane. She wanted to tell him that too but she knew it’d never convince him. He was here now and she wanted nothing more than to just give in.

She sighed in defeat. From where she stood beside the table, she looked down at him and tried to keep the hate alive. All of her reasons were beginning to dissolve. Hold on, she begged of herself. Keep your dignity. Keep your pride. But it was an effort done in vain. With just a look at him, she felt the anger begin to wane. It was a tedious departure but she felt it leave despite her protest to keep it burning alive within her. Being angry at him did no good. Her hand rested on the table, keeping her balance as she looked at him, thinking over what to do. And she wanted to reach over, lift her hand to his face and feel the feelings she missed after all this time. She did nothing. She sat down. "I wish I could understand —— " And she sounded desperate, like she relied on him for her happiness. Because she did and she no longer cared what that meant. The day he left was the day she lost everything. If only he could make her understand what was more important than her and her happiness. She had a feeling that, no matter what reason he gave, she’d take it and cling to it and never ever let it go.

She sat down. That was what seemed to matter in light of everything. It was the only thing that mattered. She hadn't left. She had sat down. He could rest almost everything in that one action. Brief movement. She had sat down. He hadn't killed everything worth coming back for. Her voice was soft, like a small breaking in the atmosphere. And there was a lot that he wanted to do. Reach over and say he was sorry. Reach over and just feel her. She had preoccupied his head a good deal, something vibrant and too emotional. He knew how to block out the parts that made him crack. Only he couldn't kill the thought for good. There was so much he wanted but he knew that he couldn't do any of it.

She was asking him for some sorta reason. One that he had already given. But it fell short. So low that maybe neither one of them could reach to pick it up again. He leaned on the table but he didn't look at her. He looked down at the surface of the table. He didn't notice the small pattern on the wood, he didn't look at the shadows. He didn't see anything. He only felt her there across from him. It sounded pretty stupid. But he might've been blind. He might've been deaf. He could only feel.

He didn't want to look at her. But he knew that he had. He had walked out. He had left and he owed her at least a look. Was that true though? She had that ring on her finger, she had a penthouse in the Upper East Side. She had everything and he had nothing. There was nothing that he owed her, nothing he could give her. He made himself look at her though. It wasn't guilt. No, he wasn't supposed t regret walking out. He had every reason to leave. Every reason not to tell her why.

She looked different suddenly. A little under trodden. Maybe it was his own eyes playing tricks on him. He wanted to help her. Hell, he had those dark thoughts in his head, clinging there. Like a surface stain that can't be wiped. He would've done anything. But things were different now. Or so he kept telling himself. He wasn't about to jump down onto weak street now.

"Gotta ask the right questions to get the answers you want."

[selmawinterarchive]

"Just rolled in on my noble steed." She stated with a bit of a grin as she took a sip of her drink. "Mind filling a girl in?"

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He let out a small laugh and then lifted the drink to his lips. It burned down good. "A place a girl shouldn't be. There's been a lot of fighting."

[talesofflowersandknivesarch-blog]

Keeping Up Appearances | LJ and Cap

It was the night of the gallery’s latest opening.  This was another one of the student shows, which had become rather popular.  LJ was happy to help out Leiella, and it had brought in a fresh client base into the gallery.

Standing near the front of the gallery, LJ’s eyes grew a little wide with surprise when she saw the man that walked in the door.  It was William.  Someone that she hadn’t seen in forever.  Keeping up the appearance of her job, the blonde walked up to him, offering her hand in greeting — as she did most people that walked into the gallery.  ”Hello William.  What brings you into the gallery tonight?”

( thecaphatfield )

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He had decided to stop in. West Virginia didn't hold what New York held. Only he knew that it was impossible to really miss New York. It was cold and fruitless. West Virgina was always gonna be home. But he was back. And the gallery was one of the places that he had liked going to, one of the places he had written his ma about. He wasn't surprised that she came over to him. Only surprised by the singling out she did of him. Either he was a sore thumb sticking out or she was really all too lonesome, with no friends.

He turned to look at her and shook his head, a small shake. As if to say he didn't have much of an idea. He looked around the gallery. "Nice showcase." he said, a muttered answer. He looked back at her and offered her something of a smile. "You miss your best friend, that it?"

[elizabethbrooke-archive]

No amount of venom could have poisoned her heart like his words did but it didn’t kill how she felt for him. Nothing, she knew, could ever do that. It was almost as if his nonchalance and dismissal of her feelings had fueled a brighter flame. There was always a point she had to prove even if he chose to ignore it and that made her eager to change his mind.  But it made her feel weak and desperate, like she clung to him for the hope of a new day. Ignoring her own feeble attempts at persuasion, she remained silent, her eyes trained on him even as his were lowered. She smiled and then it turned into a chuckle and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle it.

"The honorable William Hatfield. Loyal to a fault. Duty and honor before everything else." She scoffed because she was angry. With a childlike hope, she’d waited for him. And this was one meeting she replayed over and over in her head, saying the right things and looking into his eyes to find him looking back at her. But he left her alone. Because of her naivete, she forgot that small detail. Now that he’s returned, it came crashing down on her like a ton of unrelenting bricks. She stood up to leave, gathering her things. “And everything else before even me.”

[thecaphatfield-blog]

He thought about just letting her go. Hell, that seemed like the best option for him. Wanting her to go because that was easier than asking her to sit down. That he knew he should've called, wrote, or maybe just given her a simple heads up. A goodbye. But he didn't know how to say all that. Words were hard with her. He remembered before he left, wanting to just stay. Stay here. Stay with her. But there were things to do back home. His family needed him. Always, the family first. That was how he had been raised and he wasn't gonna go around and try at changing that. No matter what he needed.

Only he didn't need her. Needing her made him weak. And that was the last thing that he needed. The last thing that he wanted. He wanted to apologize, it was easy. All he had to do was say what happened. Once that was out in the air she would forgive him. But he went and said something stupid. And even what had happened couldn't exactly make up for that, could it? He didn't think so. Would she?

"Come on. Stay." And it was funny pushing that out without anything else. Without an offer of explaining. He didn't want to explain, didn't want to unlock doors and invite her inside. He was bound to leave again. This time he didn't need to have attachments. "One more minute?"