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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@thechasecarter
My head is killing me.
People lie. The underlying question was in fact, does she still have your balls but then the answer is far too evident. Hm, perhaps I’ll find Collette and we can have another affair over and over and over again.
Really, Kol? Fuck. Alright.
My head is killing me.
I know I don’t.
Since I showed up here, I decided earlier today that I am the new Hannibal Lecter. — Hannibal Avacter.
Of course you did.
My head is killing me.
Yeah. You’re looking pretty damn fabulous, Carter.
I'm aware.
Don't act like you've not noticed before.
My head is killing me.
I can guarantee that she’s going to blame herself, even though neither of you are to blame. Come on, I’ve told you this. It’s okay.
No, but--
You're okay. That's what matters.
My head is killing me.
Hey! Just because I am small does not mean I do not have enough meat on my bones, thank you very much! — I say we eat Kol first.
I don't think anyone would really have a problem with that.
Wait, why are you interested in eating people, again? I didn't think that was really your...territory. Has something happened I don't know about?
My head is killing me.
I’m perfect. You?
Even better.
My head is killing me.
Yeah, I have. But uh… I haven’t told her… About what happened with Klaus. So if you see her, don’t mention it.
Oh, sure.
As long as you warn me or something before you tell her. I'm going to need time to find a place to hide.
My head is killing me.
Quite frankly, if you do recall we are godless creatures, mate.
Well look at you, Chase Carter, a year later and you haven’t changed a bit. Where’s that pretty red head of yours that I’ve been dying to eat these days.
People do say I don't look my age.
First time I've seen you in a year and your first question is about my relationship? Find someone else to drool over, mate.
My head is killing me.
Your wildest dreams are coming to the land of Apes. It’s the Rise of The Planets of The Apes all over again, Chase. We’re all going to die. But I say, if we’re going to eat anyone first, it won’t be me. Because monkeys love me.
And there wouldn't really be enough of you to fill anyone up, let's be honest.
My head is killing me.
I’m pretty sure they knocked you cold. But then again, what do I know?
I'm...my head is pounding too much to even try to decipher what you're talking about.
You alright, Snow?
My head is killing me.
Hell if I know. I woke up surrounded by sand and I’ve been trying to figure things out ever since. I ran into Roxy though. Apparently she’s back. Or she was coming back… It’s all a mess of confusion. I’m glad you’re okay though.
You, too. And Roxy, too. I know you've missed her.
My head is killing me.
You.
Jesus Christ.
Kol.
My head is killing me.
Blame the coconuts?
Blame them for...?
My head is killing me.
It’s your wildest dreams come true.
What's that, shortstack?
My head is killing me.
It’s definitely something from hell.
Shh, not so loudly.
What's happened, anyway? I feel like I've been hit by a bus.
My head is killing me.
And I feel like I've slept for at least twenty hours straight. Is this the hangover from hell or...?
Leave Me
(AU, this takes place in the same ~AU that the ‘Break’ I did for Roxy is in)
It’s taken weeks to find her in this new unfamiliar town, weeks to watch her from across the street and chew on the inside of his cheeks. Roxy had told him to stay away, the hurt in every syllable still rattling around inside of his chest every time he catches a glimpse of her. But there’s something else there, too. When he peaks further around the corner and spots Riley, even if everything inside him has been dead longer than he can remember, it all comes to life. There’s a tingle under his skin he can’t quite name. It’s not right that she makes him feel that way when he can still feel the sharp snap of her neck between his palms.
So, watching her isn’t healthy. It’s not normal or good or right. He’s never been one much for any of those things anyway. Everyday, from a safe distance, he watches Riley smile at her sister or wrinkle her nose at something a man he doesn’t recognize says and tries to find a way to make up to her what he’s done.
It takes nearly two months for him to finally admit that he won’t be able to.
It’s another few nights before finally, finally, Roxy leaves the house without Riley in toe.
Feeling as close to panic as possible, he forces his legs to carry him forward and knocks haltingly on the door. He shifts uncomfortably in the porch light, looking down at his feet and then at the base of the door as it swings slowly open. His ears pick up a soft intake of breath, the familiarity of which threatens to collapse his knees out from under him, but he sways only slightly as his eyes lift up to Riley’s face.
Her hair’s been swept back away from her freshly scrubbed face and the t-shirt she’s wearing is three sizes too big (and, with a lurch in his stomach, he realizes, not one he recognizes) and he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in the soft crook of her neck. Instead, he shoves his hands deep into his pockets to make sure he doesn’t reach out to her. The silence stretches between them for seconds that feel like years as he catches a glimpse of conflict in her eyes.
“Hi,” he breathes out softly before forcefully clearing his throat. There’s a beat, another century of silence between them, before her lips part and “Hi,” is returned just as quietly.
His mind races and he feels a growing urgency with every second that he can’t express everything to her all at once. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he drops his eyes from her face and finds his voice again. “Riley, I’m so s—”
“Don’t,” she interrupts him, stern and sure and with much more confidence than her face holds when he glances back up again. She’s always been a little prickly, he liked it about her (still likes it) but he’s not sure he can swallow down a hundred apologies just because it makes her uncomfortable to hear them. “Just—come inside,” she steps aside and he stares at the floor for a moment as if he expects it to come up and meet him. As if he might actually step inside.
“No,” he shakes his head, feet planted firmly on the porch. “I can’t. I’m—I’m not staying.” He feels more than sees her shoulders straighten as she steps in front of him again. It seems impossible that this is the same girl that let him wrap himself around her while she slept and pressed her bloodstained lips to his just seconds before he snapped her neck. “I thought…I thought I was saving you.” He expects a weight to lift from him, but it doesn’t. If only the earth would swallow him whole at that moment, then he may get some relief. “But I wasn’t. I was being selfish and it—it wasn’t right.”
Riley’s arms are crossed in front of her chest but her green eyes shine with the threat of tears she blinks to hold back. “Chase…” his name falls from her lips in a tone soft enough that his own breath hitches in his throat.
This ‘doing the right thing’ thing is bullshit.
Setting his jaw, he does his best not to choke on the things he’s prepared to say to her to make sure she’ll hate him just as much as she needs to. “I’m not a savior, and I’m not a good man. I think you forgot that at some point, but I guess you won’t now,” if it were anyone else, Chase would let his mouth twist up in a self-satisfied smirk, but it’s Riley and the best he can manage is a sort of grimace.
“It wouldn’t have worked, you and me, anyway. Not really. I’m not cut out for it. This. ” He uses one hand to motion between them. “I don’t think you are either.” Liar liar liar, his mind chants. But he does his best to keep the tremor of emotion from his voice. “I did what I did and now you won’t have to be taken away from your sister, and that’s the best gift I could give to you…parting gift.” He rolls his shoulders in such a casual way that even he knows how hurtful he’s being. He doesn’t need the flash of anger and confusion on Riley’s face (but he sees it anyway).
“Why are you saying this?” Her voice is almost hollow, she knows the answer. She’s always been able to see straight through him, even when the truth scares the both of them. There’s no need to put on this show for her, and so Chase lets himself falter just a little in front of her.
“You know,” is all he can manage and even then his voice cracks. His entire throat feels dry.
Silence stretches between them again and just as Riley opens her mouth to speak (to tell him he’s despicable, to call him out on his lie, to tell him never to come near her again) his body moves forward of it’s own accord again and he’s closed his lips over hers. There’s a sort of nostalgia at the way she tenses against his chest at first, so close to when he’d swooped in and kissed her on New Years. Her body melts against his for a moment, and—for a moment—he lets himself waiver on his resolve to leave. It’s only when his hand moves to hold her jaw and he feels how cold she is that he remembers why he has to go.
He’s done this to her.
He’s killed her.
When he met her, she’d been so self-assured and bright and he’d clung to that in her until he’d smothered it. Riley Northman was full of life until he came along.
Pulling back, he rests his forehead against hers for a moment, capturing her face between his hands when he feels her struggle to pull away. “I hate you,” he hears her murmur weakly and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know she’s crying, her small hands grasping tightly at his wrists.
“I know. So do I,” he sounds just as broken as she does, but a thousand times more convicted. Taking a few deep breaths, he braces himself for the heartbreak. He expects it to be sudden, a shock to his system the way Collette’s abandoning him had been. But this thing with Riley has been creeping up on him for months now, he’s been hurting already for so long that when he finally whispers “I’m sorry,” and slams back out of the house, he doesn’t feel much different than he did when he knocked on the door.
Hunching his shoulders against the dark as he stalks off, he can hear Riley belatedly step outside after him. His ears strain against the steady drone of crickets and far-off traffic in case she calls out for him. If he does, he thinks, maybe it would be alright to go back. At least he could tell himself he tried. But he doesn’t slow his pace, and all he hears is the dull thud of the door as she steps back inside and closes it behind her.
