* v e s p e r !

Vesper Branwen || Auror Officer || Genderfluid || Metamorphamagus "Did you want me as your whore or your Madonna? Did you want me to stay quiet or get loud?" & points –– 345 & cases: - missing models (w/ lex) - Foul Play at National Wizard’s Chess Tournament (w/ lucky)

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

The silent acceptance makes them feel solid, like maybe they can be someone who keeps promises like that, even as their body fights against them. There’s the urge to take their hand again, to hold on and keep holding on, but they swallow that down, knowing they were playing with enough fire doing it once, by even having Vesper here at all. They don’t let themself linger on that thought, any part of it, not wanting the guilt to sully this, not wanting it to dull any of the warmth that seems to be settling now between them as they both regain their footing with each other.

They hesitate. It’s not a pretty topic, and they don’t think it’s the sort of thing that’s likely to make this all feel any less fragile, like the quiet they’ve finally managed to find here might break if the wrong thing is brought up, but they know that honesty needs to be a part of this. How can they try to be something stable and strong, a solid base that Vesper could rely on on days like this, when the world is fuzzy, and things slip their mind, if they aren’t even fully honest with them? It doesn’t seem possible. Still, this isn’t something they talk about, that side of themself. They had gotten better at it with Adam, with his whole family, those differences a joyful thing to all of them, the full moon a celebration every month; it had helped them feel less like they needed to hide, but it wasn’t easy, and it was still a work in progress when all of that progress had been undone. But they want to be honest, they deserve the truth of it, as hard as it is. Lex takes a second, picks up their cup of tea, takes a sip, trying to focus on that warmth, and the other warmth, too, the warmth at their side, and then they tell them what happened.

“It, uh, was a case with Hattori. Missing kid, no sign of him, but strange sightings in the forest nearby; it looked grim. Turned out a godling took him, but we had no way to find them, couldn’t get a good enough scent to follow with so much around, and no blood spilled. So we, ah…Hattori had an idea, and I couldn’t argue he was right, no matter how much I wanted to, especially when a kid’s life was in danger. I didn’t know what else to do, and he offered his arm. So I drank,” Lex says, haltingly. And they have to pause, can’t look at Vesper, for fear of what they might find there in there eyes with that knowledge. 

They know that it was the right choice, they know that they saved the kid because of it, but that doesn’t make any of the shame from it lesser, the wish that there had been any other way to manage. It’s a conflict they hadn’t been anticipating dealing with on top of everything else, and they’re fairly certain it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, in terms of their potions not working right, the way their body reacts to feeding like that changing how everything else affects them.

“It worked, we found the kid safely, got the godling sent back to his natural habitat, but it screwed with me, doing that, when it’s been so long since I did it regularly, and the last time I did was…” they trail off with a deep frown, shaking their head. They take a second to recompose themself. Luckily, they’re steadier now than they had been earlier, easier to swallow down the shame and guilt and worry, the way this whole thing would have sent them spiraling if not for the potions. They still can’t bring themself to look over at Vesper just now, though, after admitting what they did. A shake of their head, a  shrug, even as their fingers worry over the rim of their mug. “Made him swear he’d keep it quiet, since it’s the sort of thing I could get fired for, but there’s no telling if he actually will, of course. But nothing I can do about it now.”

.

Vesper twists their own hands together for a moment, holding on to themself to stop from reaching out for Lex again. They aren’t sure why, but they feel aprehensive already. Something about the way that Lex hesitates makes them worry, makes them scared, makes them wonder what exactly is coming out of this converastion. They watch as Lex takes a sip of their tea, and wonder what they’re going to say when the words finally start slipping out. What will it be, what could have happened to make them take the leap back into...all of that. The curiosity of it lodges in their throat for a moment, and they’re worried it might kill them after all. They keep their eyes fixed on Lex when the words finally spill out, let the sound of the voice wash over them. 

Vesper’s heart drops a little bit, even as it begins. A case with Hattori –– Vesper knows that Hattori hates them, and its fostered their own level of distrust. He’s not somebody that they enjoy working with. He seemed cold, closed off. Hattori was one of those people who seemed like he looked out for himself above everything else. Their heart aches, when the story comes forward. They swallow around it. They can see it in their mind. Lex being caught in a corner and not knowing what to do, other than agree. Lex knowing that a kid was at risk and doing everything that they could to make sure they brought him home safe. It seems so strange that it would be Hattori’s idea, that it would just come up like that. And Vesper is angry, because they know that when Hattori suggests something he expects you to follow, will make it an order and do everything that he can to get you to follow it. They can’t help the slight frown of worry that spreads across their face. 

“I’m sorry, Lex. If he says anything, I’ll kill him.” They promise, and shake their head. It seems like something Hattori would like to hold over their head. Seems like something he could use as a weapon, amunition against the one person in the room he should leave the fuck alone. They swallow, and think about how wrong it had all sounded as Lex shared it. How wrong Lex had sounded. There was an amount of distress to it, but nowhere near as much as Vesper would have expected. They know that Lex has had problems with this in the past, something that they’ve worked on, something that they still have complex feelings about. To be forced in to it by Hattori must have been horrible, must have shaken them more than Vesper could have even imagined. But the distress was only slight, compared to what Vesper would have expected. 

They reach out, against their own better judgement, and lay a hand on Lex’s knee for a moment. They give it a comforting squeeze. “Are you, um. I mean, how are you doing, though? Cause... you’re...sounding awfully calm about all of it, you know? You’re allowed to be upset or ––” They stop, hesitant, considering what they would have felt themself. Vesper lets out a little sigh. “Or fucking pissed off, you know. If you want. Cause if he ordered you to do that, it’s a little bit more than fucked up on his part.” They’re angry on Lex’s behalf, even though they aren’t sure exactly what happened out there. 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

There’s that specific fragility in the air, the same sort of quiet heaviness that came naturally out on the balcony, and it makes them wonder what would have happened if it hadn’t been shattered. It makes them wonder this would have been like if they had been allowed to linger in that moment. It twists something unfamiliar in them, something they can feel being tempered by their potion, something curious. It’s for the best that they can’t linger on it, can’t think of that, and don’t know what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted, because Lex isn’t sure that they’d have a good enough excuse to hold onto the control they do have, they’re pretty sure they would’ve made everything a whole lot worse than they had managed as it was. So they let that go for now, or try their best to.

Vesper tells them they shouldn’t have to be sorry, but they don’t think that’s true. They’ve been backsliding, progress undone so easily, and they need to do better, want to. They want to be able to be something stable, and good for Vesper, they want to be able to be around. Vesper nudges their foot with their own, visibly tries to relax, and that keeps the soft smile in place. And maybe they shouldn’t, maybe it’s not helpful to either of them, but they’re alone, no one’s going to walk in and take a moment away from them, no one’s looking, safe in their house in the middle of the woods, so they follow their instinct, the desire. They reach over, cover one of Vesper’s hands with their own just for a second. The contact sends a jolt through them, the warmth nearly something foreign, but it’s nice, and they hope it gets their point across.

“Promise I’ll remember. And I’ll remind you I want the same,” they nod, giving their hand a gentle squeeze, before pulling back again, despite the urge to linger. And then they move on. There’s the little voice in the back of their head telling them they shouldn’t have even done it at all, as small a gesture as it was, but there’s another voice, too, that wants more of that contact somehow, dampened and quieted down to a whisper with their potion, but decidedly there. They ignore that thought, though, because they don’t think that’ll help either of them move past what they had talked about outside of the cafe, won’t get either of them feeling any more normal today.

So instead, Lex pulls the soup out as instructed, opens the container. They still don’t feel hungry, appetite absolutely screwed the past week anyway, but the turn of the stomach still lingering from earlier, but they know that Vesper is right. “None taken. Kind of exactly what I feel like, too, so at least I’m consistent,” they hum, glancing over at them. Then they make a big show of taking a spoonful, swallowing it down. They can tell immediately their body is still fucked, because it taste strange, unsatisfying, but they push through that.

“I haven’t been able to stomach, well, food for the past week. My body just doesn’t want it,” they explain. Not something they’ve really mentioned to anyone except for Liv and Cam; they don’t exactly plan to go around telling many people what led to that feeling, after all. This is Vesper, though, and they think it’s a step in a way, that sort of honesty, too, when they know they haven’t given them as much of it as they deserve lately. “Something happened, and it fucked with my equilibrium. My body wants…the other kind of nourishment. But Merlin knows I’m not exactly looking to try an all liquid diet for the first time in twenty years.”

.

The delicate warmth in the air is something that’s almost easy to get lost in. But it is delicate. Maybe everything will be, between them, today. After the tense moment out on the street, outside their cafe, when everything seemed to go wrong no matter what they tried  to say to set it right. They had been caught in a loop for that brief moment, both of them saying the wrong things, getting caught up in their own head and whatever they could find that told them they were bad for each other, or that they had done something wrong. Vesper really shouldn’t be surprised. They know from experience what dark turns their own mind can take them down, the damaged paths and dark corners that linger beyond every though. Even when they think they’re in perfect control of themself, they can find themself surrounded  by doubt, by the realisation that they’re nothing, that they have nothing to offer and no intrinsic value on their own. Just a pretty burden for everybody else to deal with, too deliacate to be thrown away.

It makes too much sense, that Lex would fall into the same traps. After everything that’s happened, they’re allowed to have their own doubts and their own false starts. Their mind is allowed to lead them down their its own dark paths. Vesper just wishes that they could be better, that they could have done something more to make Lex feel like they were safe and welcome in all of this, in the friendship and whatever else lies between them. The delicate and cheirshed warmth, the care and the affection.

They feel a spark when Lex reaches out, when suddenly their hands are touching. It feels like fire, that skin against their own. It feels like something that should be forbidden. But Lex offers touch so rarely now, Vesper can’t help enjoying it. They don’t move, they don’t pull away. They let themself take this because they’re not sure when the next time they’ll get it is, because they want it so badly that it makes their insides feel scraped clean with the power of their wanting. Lex squeezes their hand, as they speak. They offer a promise, and then they pull away. Vesper tries not to feel like its a loss, holds back the urge to reach out and take that hand again. They pull their own away as well, instead. Back to safe ground. “Good,” They say, instead of anything else. An acceptance of the promise given, the one they know that Lex really will do their best to keep.

Vesper watches Lex move, watches them take a bite. It doesn’t seem to sit well, and they almost feel bad for pressuring them when they know they don’t feel well. They just want Lex to be okay, to get better if they can. To shake off whatever is hurting them and let themself heal, however they can, whatever it takes. They find themself swallowing, as Lex talks, and explains. The other kind of nourishment. Blood. Human blood. Because Lex was someone who could do that, who had fangs that might come out, who could sustain themself on the thing that gave everybody else life in a different way. Vesper has worked cases with Vampires before, knows that Camden, Lex’s somehow father figure is one. They’ve heard rumors as well, about what its like. How it can feel. That’s why people can get a little weird about Vampires, because it feels good, sometimes, when they feed. Vesper arches an eyebrow, gives Lex a thinly veiled look of worry. They seem run down by it all, affected in the most negative sense. None of this rests easy on their shoulders. “You’ll get used to it again,” They promise, with a soft look toward the food. “With some time.” But they hesitate before they move in, before they give in to the other question that wants to come forward. 

“What happened?” They ask, their voice soft but curious. They want to know. They hate all of the things that they don’t know about Lex. “If you want to talk about it, I mean. I’ll listen.”  

[vesperbranwen]

jdelacruz​:

He takes their other hand when they offer it, pulls them close so he can apparate the two of them together, to the space just outside his wards. Lets them in, unlocks the door—the apartment’s dark, and feels the same kind of awful empty that it always does when he comes home for the night, and he wishes he has something better to offer them, something more comfortable, more homey. A place where they could feel like themself. It’s hard to imagine, when even he doesn’t feel himself here. 

So he sweeps past the uncomfortable couch, the impersonal art, shoulders open the door to his bedroom—clean, the bed made, his favorite pair of shoes by the door. A few pictures, on the bedside table, one of him and Vesper from a few years ago, one of Pandora at three months old, and a small stack of books lined up there. There’s not all that much more to this room than the others, but it’s the space that he thinks feels safest, most comfortable. 

He gives them a hug, too, a quick and awkward thing; he still doesn’t quite have a handle on the gesture, but he knows Vesper will forgive him for that. Even in the soft light of this room, they look pale, look shaken.

     “You want me to get something? I’ve got some scotch, somewhere. Or… there’s ice cream, in the freezer.”

He hasn’t seem them look this shaky, this upset, since just after Pandora was born, the long weeks where they could barely pull themself out of bed, where they always looked a bit like a rabbit facing a predator and trying to decide whether or not to bolt. There’s a touch of a familiar far away look in their eye, the one he’s seen them get when they realize they’ve forgotten something—the nights out they’ve forgotten to turn up to, left him waiting at the bar for an hour or two before giving up on them and going home, or the time they realized they’d forgotten his birthday, not that he minded all that much. 

     “Or I can just stay here. Whatever you want, Ves.” 

Vesper has always felt at home in Julián’s apartment, always. Though, they’ve always been fairly sure that Julián doesn’t. The place itself makes that clear, as if J has only lived here for a few weeks instead of years and years. He never really settled in to the space, never made it a home instead of just an apartment. Vesper would have, if that had the chance. Would have made a place that felt like a haven away from the rest of the world, warm and den-like, somewhere they can hide. But Julián takes them past the outer layers of the place and in to the sanctum, the small place that feels like him the most. His bedroom. They feel safer inside the walls, feel less like their entire world is falling apart. 

Safer again when Julián hugs them, wraps those arms aroun dtheir body and holds them fast. He’s always been a little strange with hugs –– it doesn’t come naturally to him. They would have made some joke, maybe, about how he didn’t get hugged enough as a child. But he really didn’t. Whoever Vesper was, once upon a time, must have been spoiled with affection. Sometimes they need it so much that they might break if they don’t get it. Sometimes they wait so long that they feel like they’re going to break when they finally do. And it feels the best, the most important, coming from Julián. Because he isnt great at this, but he does it for them, because he knows how much they need it. 

They let it fall away, after a moment, the touch. They might clng on again later, but for now they shift, move to sit on the edge of Julián’s bed, hands supporting them down by their side and curling in to the sheet beneith them. 

“Just stay.” They say, and there’s a shake in their voice. Vesper shakes their head, because... Because they can’t have Julián awalka way, maybe. Because they’re confused, and they look up at him through it, after a moment. They pat the bed, and wait for Julián to sit, a warm weight next to them.

“He knew me.” They shake their head as they say it. There’s no doubt, only a little fear. Because its true, because the man at the club had certain eyes when he looked at them. “How the fuck does that work.” 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

Vesper reaches out, touches their arm, assures them they don’t need to worry, that they’ll be able to pull this off alright, and this time they manage the touch easier, don’t flinch back, don’t freeze. They take it for the simple gesture of comfort that it is, reassurance, and it feels possible to believe it. If Vesper is confident in this plan, then they can make themself confident here, too, they think, and it’ll only go better if they both feel like that. There’s plenty to do while they wait, plenty to go through to not only make sure they can convincingly pull off Poppy and Benny without raising any suspicions, but also more to look into with Lazlo. They don’t like having to wait until tomorrow, but they don’t think that he’s going to try anything tonight, after being directly questioned by aurors, he doesn’t seem the sort to do something so blatant.

Once they get all of the schedule information, they head back outside, and it feels a little easier to breath there, everything more clear in the day light, instead of the strange, sterile agency. They nod along with their suggestion, the right plan, they think, doing this in a conference room, easier to spread out, and their resources all at their fingertips. And the offer of coffee makes a slight smile tug at the corner of their lips. “Sounds good to me. Won’t say no to free coffee as bribery, gonna need a lot of it to pull this all off without an issue, anyway,” they shrug easily, maybe a little teasing in their nonchalance. Because things feel easier with Vesper, even if it’s a dangerous, difficult plan, they know if anyone can pull it off, it’s them. 

It doesn’t take long to pick something up to eat, along with some good coffee, and head back to the office to commandeer one of the conference rooms for their uses. They take a few minutes to collect some things they think will help them, namely a mirror, and a few pictures, and they’re ready. They spread out the case file, get everything about Lazlo’s schedule printed out, too, to make it easier to look over. And just from a preliminary look, they realize a flaw in that plan, because as much as a professional’s daylight hours are scheduled down to the minute, most of his nights aren’t. There are parties here and there, events, but it’s hard to call those empty nights that overlap with the missing models proof or not of anything.

“Don’t know how helpful this schedule’s actually going to be,” they sigh. Lex pushes it away for a minute, though, instead taking a sip of coffee, before opening up the bag of takeout, passing Vesper’s food over to them, and taking their own, starting through their thought process of their own less simply done cover as they take a bite of their sandwich. 

“Think I have a way too expensive suit in the back of my closet Baron forced me to get for some ridiculous party a few years ago that looks sort of like what they wore today, and I can probably scrounge up a pair of glasses like Benny’s easy,” they reason, putting their sandwich down and glancing in the mirror, considering. “Don’t know how convincing my model’s professional manager is gonna be no matter what they send over to help, though. Not even positive I can do their accent, but pretty sure I can manage the look without needing to ask Trixie for any help. Especially since I’ve got my own expert right here.”

.

They gather food and head back to headquarters, and Vesper settles in to this –– the quiet lull, the middle of a case, working with Lex. It’s better than working with other people, because they get to spend the middle ground together, eat lunch in each others company. Lex and Vesper, working on the case files and the schedules and disguises that they can wear when all of this goes forward, when they have to step into the lions den and investigate a man who could possibly have been causing so much pain, who might have taken those girls and done unspeakablethings to them. They feel worried about what might happen, but safer as well, in the knowledge that Lex is going to be there with them. If anyone could protect them from the danger at hand, it would be Lex. They were so strong, so brave, and Vesper knew that they cared enough to fight if anything bad happened. 

They take their food, when Lex slides it toward them. They had been studying their own face in the mirror they grabbed, when Lex was reading the schedule. Examining it, making minor changes. All of the minor details fell away again when their attention lapsed, at the sound of Lex’s voice. The features becoming familiar again, the kind that they were used to, the blond face and the regular eyes. The face of a wife, of a friend, someone that could smile at Lex in quiet thanks. 

“Baron has good taste,” They offer, arching an eyebrow. They try to imagine for a second, Lex in a suit that Baron made them buy. Vesper imagines that they would look pretty dashing in it, that it would look good in the way that they always do. “Bet it’ll work great.” And they smile, an honest one, shifting their body so that they can turn in the direction of Lex, pointing toward them like an arrow. They let a hint of amusement enter their voice, just a gentle little hint of it. “I bet you can pull off Benny, don’t freak out about it. He had that hapless sweetheart thing going on.” A teasing smile. “Not that I think you’re hapless. Just a good enough actor. Once we sort that face of yours out.”

They take a bite of their food, watching as Lex looks at themself. “I think I can pull off Poppy, pretty okay at least. Though, I might not have the spark.” They muse, quoting Lazlo with a grim tone. “Whatever that means.” Vesper imagined that in this situation, it might be better off if they didn’t have whatever that spark was. It might be safer all around, for Poppy and for them. If Lazlo didn’t find them interesting, they might not be in any danger at all. If he was taking those girls, maybe he only took the interesting ones. 

“You really think it’s him too?” They ask, because they feel like they need to be sure. Because they know that sometimes they can get strange ideas stuck in their head, decide things and then be blinded for every other answer that presents itself. They’re going out on a limb here, taking a leap. “You can tell me if you don’t, if you think we should...explore other options, before we do something like this. You’re the boss, after all.” 

[vesperbranwen]

aurorcaro​:

“What do they say, it’s always the quiet ones?” They ask with a laugh, “then again I wouldn’t call Boucher very quiet.” The kid was right though, a tumultuous affair possibly being the cause of all of this was the last thing they would have expected, but it made the whole thing even that more fun to play around with. 

When they finally get to the hotel’s lounge, they’re once again met with a decision- whether to keep up with their morph, or reveal themselves to be aurors. After everything Boucher said, Lucky feels like the auror route might not be the best one to take, especially if Church was the one who was cursing chess pieces. In that same line of thought though, pretending to be a chess player in that tournament likely wouldn’t go as well either. If they were to get Church to talk to them candidly, they were going to have to appease to the hotel owner’s stance on the chess tournament. 

“If you have any questions regarding your stay, I assure you the receptionist at the front desk or the concierge will be happy to assist you,” Church replies to Branwen, clearly not too happy with their lunch being interrupted, but not to the point they were going to be rude to a couple of paying customers. 

“Actually,” Lucky pipes up, “we were hopin’ to talk to you about this damn chess tournament going on downstairs. I took my Missy here to Vegas to celebrate our 6 week anniversary, to see the sights, gamble a little bit, and catch a few shows- I didn’t take ‘em here to see a bunch of nerds packing the pool, and slowing down the buffet line as they read over every allergy warning, on every damn dish.”  

They’re confident the kid can keep up with the quick change in storyline, and that they could learn a thing or two when doing it. Shit like this was what Lucky excelled in back in New York, when the undercover cases were the only ones they worked on for a good while. Being able to skillfully flow in and out of different characters and backgrounds was key in getting a witness to do what you wanted them to do- and doing so without changing your face first had become a fine art of their’s. 

“Ah… yes the chess tournament,” Church replies with a roll of their eyes, the distaste in their tone clear, “well I can assure you that here soon you will no longer be troubled with it.” 

Lucky swings in and voices something pretty damn perfect ––  a minor change in their story, in the pace and the energy of their game of pretending. If Vesper was a lesser person, they might not keep up as quickly. As it is, they don’t even flinch, don’t even blink. Vesper is always interested in seeing Lucky work like this, the way that they can switch back and forth from so many different lines of thought. Vesper has a lot of raw talent, natrual at some things, but Lucky is a master when it comes to actually selling the act. That’s something they’d like to learn how to do, so they always end up watching Lucky with keen eyes, wondering how they pull it off just so. It’s silly, for someone their age, but they might have a role model here. 

Church’s reaction is a telling one. Vesper’s eyes skim back toward them in time to catch the way that their eyes roll, and they can tell before words even leave their mouth the way they’re going to sound –– their dislike for the chess tournament is clear, even before they speak.

It seems like Boucher wasn’t lying, when they implied Church might be a little petty in their anger. Relationship drama, there was nothing better. 

They tilt their head. The way it sounded, Church was pretty certain that the tournament would clear out soon enough, that they wouldn’t have to deal with it for much longer. Vesper arches an eyebrow, considers it. It seems strange to curse people just because your partner fucked you over, but then again –– it was effective. 

Vesper tilts their head, curious. “Gosh, what does that mean?”

“Is the competition like, nearly over or something?” A curious and slightly vapid tone, leaning their elbow on the table to lean in, looking at Churh ahead of them. 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

It feels a little like there’s a war going on in their mind, one that’s mercifully quieted by the sip of the potion they took before Vesper knocked, but it’s there, still just below the surface. It’s the guilt and the worry, and everything that Rafael had said to them, made them think on, warring against the selfish need to hold onto Vesper, to want to have them here, have this private moment, something that stands a chance of making both of them feel alright for a few minutes, maybe. It’s tough, because they think that when it comes down to it maybe there are parts of both sides that are right, but that’s not something they want to consider now, don’t want to linger on the way that makes them feel sick to their stomach, or think too hard about why it feels so different now, like they need to hide to have a private moment with Vesper. Because that would mean that another part of what Rafael said was right, too, and this is the second time they’ve had that thought, the first talking to Julián soon after the balcony, and they’re not sure they should do that, not sure they should admit something different was going on out there on the balcony before Rafael interrupted them.

They wish that they could start this day over, though, nonetheless, just message Vesper, keep any of their conversation from happening, this new sort of strangeness in the air that they’ve never had to worry about with them. But this is a chance to fix that, to patch over those cracks that they let appear and be something sturdy, stable, the sort of thing that can actually help Vesper, instead of doing more harm again. And Vesper gives them a little smile when they open the door, warm, but something shy to it, a silent acknowledgement of everything that had happened on the street.

“Thanks, Ves, really. A classic,” Lex repeats, with a slight smile, taking the bag. There’s something a little warm about that, about Vesper bringing them soup, that urge to care despite the tense moment they had shared. It pulls at something in their chest, a warm sort of feeling trying to push thought, one that makes them feel guilty for, again, that same war of emotions there, even under the calm. 

They close the door, follow Vesper inside, and their heart races, as they watch them sit, watch them notice.They see the moment that Vesper sees the book of poems, and there’s something that seems to linger in the air around them, as they touch it, fingers running over it as they gently move it aside. For some reason, it sends a chill through them, watching the way Vesper touches it so carefully, and there’s something there, which was maybe what they had been trying to do by leaving it out in plain sight. And it’s almost as vindicating as it is gentle, tender, to be able to feel that they can still have that moment, despite Rafael’s interruption, and now his words, lingering over them both, making this strange day even harder. They wait, practically hold their breath, waiting to see if they’ll say something about it, but they don’t, choose something safer, and they realize it’s probably for the best, if they want to forget about everything else earlier, even if it’s still disappointing, oddly.

Lex sits, finally, puts the bag with their soup down, too, lets them make that choice, not planning to bring it up themself. “No, I’m sorry, too. It’s been a rough few weeks, hard not to let it get to you,” they nod, looking over at them. A little smile crosses their lips again, at them saying they’ve missed them. And maybe it seems like a strange thing on the outside, since they see each other every day at work, and have been doing more since Lex cam back from their leave, but it’s not the same. There’s a difference between seeing someone and being with them, being allowed to have moments of honesty. “Missed you, too, Ves, missed this. I should’ve just messaged you this morning…I’m trying to do better, I am doing better, but this week’s been strange. But I want to be around. With you.”

.

There’s a long moment where Vesper can feel Lex watching them. The weight in the air taking on a familiar edge, an intimacy. They’re alone here together, and it makes something blossom, something that’s hard to ignore even though they know that they have to. Like the balcony, under the stars, startled by the book that they were touching now. It feels like a connection, something unspoken, something tying them together even when they’re apart. The idea of the two of them reading it at the same time, lingering over the same words. It makes Vesper’s chest ache, somehow. A longing, a sadness, a wonder of what life could be like if everything was different. Those are dangerous thoughts, but they’re undeniable. And life would be so much easier if they could feel connection without wondering if they were courting doom, if they were hurting themself in the long run, if Rafael was going to make them regret it –– even if it was innocent, Rafael would probably like to make them forget it. 

And that isn’t a thought they should let themself entertain, not really. They know this cycle comes and goes, their irrationality and their problems manifesting in distrust in the person who has given them everything. Born, maybe, out of the fact that he could take it all away. Not just the house or the clothes, but everything else. Vesper can’t imagine a life where they aren’t tied down to the de la Cruz family, where they aren’t part of it. It’s been made clear that they wouldn’t be very much at all if they were set free. 

Looking at Lex, feeling the weight of those eyes. It just makes them wonder. And it makes them feel desperately needy, for Lex to hear their words and to understand them, to see the truth in everything Vesper has to say, to get that Vesper needs them around. 

They sit, and they say sorry. But they shouldn’t have to. Vesper is the one who messed it all up, who let the day get away from them, who reacted badly when maybe they should have let Lex go. There was another paranoid part of their brain that wondered if Lex hadn’t been really trying to get away from them, taking the excuse for distance. But they look back up at Lex, and –– no. Lex might try for distance, but they were sure they had some selfless, strange reason for it in their own head. Vesper isn’t the only one with a mind that can turn on them, with issues that make them make strange decisions. They share this problem, always wondering if they’re being a burden, if the weight of their company is something too heavy for most people to deal with. 

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” They say, voice too soft. A reflection of how it had been, alone at the party. A little achey, beneith it all. “I just –– well. I want to be with you too. Around you. Rememebr that, okay?” Because they need Lex to know it. Their company can be an easy thing, they won’t demand much. Even sitting in silence would fulfil that desperate want to be together, to soak up the company. They nudge their foot against Lexs, make a show of relaxing their shoulders. “Whatever, we’re dumb. Eat your soup before you collapse. No offence, but you look like death warmed over.”  

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

Eventually Vesper turns back to look at them again, and the look on their face makes their chest feel tight, the way they say their name, shaky, soft, only making it stronger. They hope they don’t try to defend Rafael for what he said, they don’t think they could take that just now, when he turned something so good, into something they can’t help but feel guilty for, and for what? His jealousy, his sick need to keep Vesper to himself, but make them feel like shit while he’s at it? Lex is well aware they would be pissed off, the sort of angry that’s gotten them in trouble before, if not for their potion, but they can’t help but hear Lucky’s words in their mind again, telling them what they’re doing only makes things worse in the long run. They’re tired of people telling them all they can manage is to make things worse, tired of trying to convince themself that it’s true, when everything they do seems to prove it right.

But here’s Vesper, in the middle of a hard enough day for themself, telling them that they do the opposite of that. Their voice is quiet, full of sincerity, and it almost feels stupid, letting Rafael’s words get to them so much, when he also tried to tell them that Vesper didn’t consider them a friend, but someone they pitied, and they know how untrue that is. They’re not sure if they believe it, but that doesn’t matter, because it sounds like Vesper believes it.

“It’s not you who makes things worse, either,” they say, voice coming out quieter than they mean. And then they try to do what Vesper says, try to just forget it for now. Somehow, when Vesper touches their shoulder, just a small thing, it doesn’t make them freeze, doesn’t make their whole body panic. It sends a jolt of something through them, something they can’t put their finger on, surprise enough they just nod, as Vesper moves away. “Yeah, sounds good…”

This time, they don’t hesitate before apparating home, not sure they can handle so much in the air without a moment to compose themself. They consider going to pick Keira up, but they’re not sure what’s going to happen when Vesper shows up, want to be able to focus, to keep themself from making any more missteps, and they figure that’ll be easier without an almost two year old running around, so they decide to pick her up after. When they’re inside the wards, inside the house in the middle of the woods, the too-big house that feels too empty now, feels stupid for having insisted they needed so much space, when now it’s just Keira and them, they spend a good ten minutes pacing around, moving things needlessly in the guise of “cleaning up” their infinitely tidy place. The ten minutes are enough time for the guilt to start settling again, worry with it, that they shouldn’t have suggested this, no matter what. So they take a sip of their potion, letting a fresh wave of calm settle, and make tea, hesitating, before pouring two cups.

They bring them to the coffee table, eyes landing on their dogeared, written in, well-loved copy of A Season In Hell, and it feels like an important choice not to move it––they’re not sure why, but the thought of Vesper seeing they’ve been rereading it makes something twist in them, makes them wonder if it’s possible to have whatever moment they had on the balcony when they’re out in the real world, too. Like a reminder that that was theirs, no matter what Rafael said after. There’s no chance to think it though any deeper before there’s a knock on their door, and they go to answer it, and they can’t help the small smile that slips over their lips despite everything, when they see Vesper.

“Hey…I’m glad you still came,” they admit, before ushering them in and then to the living room. “I, uh, made tea. Thought we both could use it.”

.

They spend a little bit of time trying to gather themself, before they move on with their day. It involves a little bit of hard talk, when it comes to pulling themself together. They hope that they can calm the fuck down, pull it together. They wish that they didn’t feel things as strongly as they do, that Lex didn’t make everything feel more amplified than it already did. Vesper doesn’t want to go in there and make things worse than they already are, with a Lex who feels like somehow they’re ruining things. They want to be able to settle into one of their perfect golden moments, where everything feels for a little while like it’s going to be okay. 

They’re all over the place, emotion wise, so the odds of keeping it together aren’t entirely in their favour. It would just be nice to. To find the balance, to settle the war happening inside their mind and inside their chest. They take a deep breath and they pull it together, they find a place to get food and order something for Lex, something for themself. It feels tender somehow, to gather things things and bring them to Lex’s house –– a peace offering, for whatever strangeness had overcome them and made it so fraught, for what Rafael had said and the way it had affected the both of them, for the way that it had clearly made Lex feel. They still feel sick about it, but they cradle the food with gentle arms as they make the journey to Lex’s house. 

It’s familiar, achingly so, when they look up at it. It’s been a while since they’ve been here –– too long. It looks like somewhere safe, as they gaze up at it. Somewhere gentle and warm, somewhere full of Lex. They bite at the inside of their cheek, wondering if Rafael could ever live somewhere like this, if he could ever lean more towards this style and this comfort. Everything seemed so white and clean back home, in comparison. Nothing worn in, everything pristine and shining and perfectly tasteful, with gleaming edges and glittering touches that set them apart from the crowd. People always told Vesper they had a lovely home. And they did. They knew they did. But sometimes they wished they could have found some compromise in it, some softer edges here and there. Something, anything, that would have made it feel like it really belonged to them. 

Lex smiles when they open the door, and Vesper smiles back –– it’s a little shy, after everything. But still warm, still gentle, still everything it always is when they direct it at someone like Lex, who deserves all the warmth that they can muster. “Of course I cam. I’m just... glad you’re glad. Tea sounds great, right now.” They say, with a slight hint of relief in their voice. It does sound nice, like somthing soothing and calming they can hold on to. A physical manifiestation of care. They hold the bag up, hand it out to them with a playfully stern look in their eye. “Chicken noodle soup. A classic.” 

And they walk past Lex into the house, shrugging off their jacket and draping it over the arm of a chair as they move. They sit down on the couch, with their own food, glancing around, eyes landing on –– oh. Well. There’s that tender, intimate feleing again, clawing its way through every vein of their body. A Season in Hell, worn down and well read as they know their own copy will become, with how much they’ve been holding it and reading it, petting at it like a good luck charm, like a promise. They touch it, gentle, just to move it carefully out of the way, fingers running down the spine as they carefully set it to the side. They almost mention it, and stumble over what to say, even in their own mind, before settling on the much safer alternative. “I’m sorry, about earlier. We both, um. Clearly got thrown off, by everything, lately. I’m just glad we’re doing this.” A soft voice, and they laugh, just a little bit. “I think I’ve kind of missed you, buddy.” 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

They realize that it was a mistake a second after they say it, the way Vesper’s smile shifts a little, the way their voice sounds as they repeat their words back at them. It makes them freeze, wishing they could go back and leave that part out, just try to enjoy an hour together without having to feel guilty, or worry about making everything worse, or pissing off their husband who didn’t want them to have anyone else but him. Lex can see the panic behind their eyes, as they let out a shaky laugh, as they nod, as they cross their arms over their chest. They hold a hand out a little helplessly, not really knowing why, but not knowing what to say, not knowing how to undo the damage their words have clearly caused. 

They don’t even get in a reply, before Vesper is already filling in the blanks easily, connecting the dots, knowing it’s because of something Rafael said to them, already telling them that they know how to deal with Rafael better than anyone else. There’s a defensiveness to their voice, which makes them frown, confused, when there’s no judgment towards them in any of their words, when Rafael doesn’t deserve an ounce of their energy, for how he talked about them, what he said to Lex. But they don’t know what to say, don’t know how to fix this one. And it makes them feel guilty in an entirely new way, a way they never feel with Vesper, like they’ve missed something somewhere, said the wrong thing before they could realize it, made it all worse than it already is. It leaves them at a bit of a loss. 

“Vesper,” they say, an edge of something maybe a little desperate to their voice as they turn their back to them, to look at the cafe is all they can manage for a second. They consider reaching out, hand on their arm, keeping them there, but they have a feeling touching them would only make it worse for both of them. Instead, they take a deep, slow breath, grateful for the extra dose they’d taken this morning, only wishing that it might make them more eloquent, too. “Ves, please,” Lex tries again, hoping they won’t leave before they can say anything else. They don’t try to force them to turn back around, though, don’t try to stop them. 

“I know it’s…I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry. Not my place, or anyone else’s, to tell you what to do, or not to do, no matter what, that was just…I wasn’t thinking. It’s not an excuse, but I wasn’t. But it’s easier said that done to forget what he says; that was the first time I’ve met him, and the things he said, Ves, about both of us…his words are kind of…kind of insidious,” they say, emphatically with a deep frown. “I know he wasn’t happy seeing us on the balcony alone together, I know it probably made your night worse after…he told me that I’m making things worse for you, told me to stay away. And I’m certainly not helping, am I? I mean, look at this.” They gesture vaguely between them now, the proverbial proof in the pudding in this moment, the way they’ve clearly upset Vesper even worse.

Everything feels worse now, in a way they didn’t know was possible, a new sort of despair, the empty sort. The calm stays in place, but it does strange things, they realize now, in the face of so much emotion trying to push through. They feel sick to their stomach, suddenly exhausted. Lex lets out a sigh, shakes their head.

“I’m sorry. I’m gonna head home. You can come by if you want, but it’s alright if you don’t want to now. It’s whatever you want, at least with me,” they say, hoping that Vesper at least knows they mean that, even if they don’t believe the rest of it.

.

They feel a little sick, listening to Lex talk about Rafael. And they know now that their initial way of handling things had been right. They were someone who was supposed to live in two different worlds. They should have kept it all seperate, kept their two little bubbles safe and seperate and pure. They should have kept Lex away from Rafael, because of course Rafael would see something that he wouldn’t like. He got jealous of Julián, who Vesper thought of as a brother. Of course he would see someone like Lex, tall and strong, talking to Vesper gently, and turn it in to something dirty and wrong. Something that they had to feel bad for. They feel guilty and sick, for mixing it all up, for giving in to their own weakness and asking, just for one night, to be allowed to have nearly everything that they wanted, to be anchored down by familiar faces and real friends, instead of just the people they smiled for because Rafael asked. 

Lex sounds desperate, with it, and they feel worse for that. Close their eyes for a second, wishing that they hadn’t caused any of this. They wish, stupidly, that the world still felt magical, like it did when they stood together on the balcony –– but that was apparently the moment where everything had gone wrong, where things had shifted too greatly in the balance between them all. Maybe Vesper had felt too much, maybe they’d been courting doom. Lex calls Raf insidious, and... Vesper wishes they could argue about that, that they could find the words in their chest. There was somehing they should say here, about Rafael not being as bad as people thought. That he was just protective, just posessive, that he just loved them. They know that the things he says can stick, lodge in your chest and refuse to leave you alone. And it hurts, to know that part of that had been about them. But it hurts more to hear what he said about Lex. 

They can’t help looking back at them, sad and earnest eyes. Their breath feels caught inside them, cold and upset and stuck with no way to fix it. “Lex,” They say, and they can hear the shake in it. They don’t know what to do here, they feel like they’ve made everything so much worse than it needs to be, so much worse than things should ever be between them and Lex. As strange as things can be sometimes, as much as there’s been a wall between them in minor ways, their bond has always been a constant thing, something they could hold on to in the dark. “You do the opposite of make things worse.” And its quiet, maybe they should have been insistent. But the emotions could choke them, and they hold some of it back, as much as they can. “You’re... my best friend. It’s not you who makes things worse.” 

That job was usually reserved for Vesper, after all. Always ruining something. 

They watch as Lex sighs, and feel their own guilt swelling up again. It was true. If any of them made things worse, it was definitely Vesper. They’d made Lex’s day strange and heavy and made them feel bad, when they should have been offering support instead. “I’ll come by.” They say, quiet again. “Lets just, forget it. And I’ll come by.” 

They reach out, touch their shoulder. It’s an apology, in its own way, even if its more selfish than anything else. The touch grounds them, and they use it to push themself away very gently after a moment. “Go get some rest.” 

[vesperbranwen]

jdelacruz​:

He moves to follow them quickly, automatically, instinctively, stays two steps behind them at first just to make sure the guy isn’t following, and then falls into step beside them as they step through the door and out onto the street outside. They’re still walking, still moving, clearly trying to get away from the club and not just from the guy, like they’re trying to outrun something else altogether, and so he keeps pace, for a minute, and then stops them, because it’s not a conversation he feels like they can have while they’re both still moving.

He catches their hand gently, carefully, not wanting to startle them, not wanting to grab their arm the way the guy inside had. He waits, until they stop, until they’re looking at him, and then he puts a hand on their shoulder, looks them in the eye.

     “Are you okay?” he asks, a starting point; he’s pretty sure the answer is no, they still look shaken and scared and upset. He can’t blame them, for that, it seems like a perfectly reasonable reaction to a truly uncomfortable encounter. He can’t imagine if it happened to him, someone looking at him with that kind of conviction and insisting he knows them when he doesn’t. And, to his knowledge, he’s never had memory problems the way Vesper has, doesn’t have any more than the normal number of holes in his life.

     “Do you want to talk about it? Whatever you want to do, we can. We can go to our usual place, or… just go home, talk there…” 

It feels a little impotent, honestly, not as helpful as he wants it to be. He wishes he were better at this sort of thing, comforting and caring; he really had to learn how to do it, for them, train his instincts out of a lifetime of the way his family handled problems like this: by ignoring them. But it’s better than nothing, at least, to make sure they know he’s there for them, whatever they want to do about this. 

The way that Julián takes their hand is more gentle and more welcome than any other touch. Its a rare thing, won from someone like him. Like the moments where he held Vesper, when he sat aside the fact that he doesn’t do things like this and took them into his arms. He was a saint, for times like that, for times like this. Because he must know that Vesper is a tactile person, that Vesper needs touch like they need oxygen. It’s always been true about them –– they’re sure it was true before, as well, in another life. 

Another life that looms larger than ever in their mind. That blank space, static fuzz over so many years of the past. Vesper can go back, through sometimes hazy memories, back to the moment where they were nineteen and scared and couldn’t feel anything else, couldn’t remember a single moment before waking up in that hospital bed and not knowing who they were. They feel choked with it now, the way that they want to know. The way that they’re scared of knowing, deep down, about what might have happened to make them like this. 

“I don’t know.” They say, with a frantic little breath. Because they’ve realised that they aren’t sure. Some of their instincts are screaming to run away, to get away from this and shove it aside. Just go home and be Vesper Branwen. Be someones mother and wife and friend and forget the past, let it fade away. They feel shaken and weak with it. But the other part of them does want to know, wants to know so badly that it kills them. Who they were, before. Who loved them and who missed them. They wanted to know that they were real, not make believe, not pretend. “I don’t know.”

They take a breath, and they look at Julián with soft eyes. The offer is a kind one, and they’re so glad that he isn’t done with them, that he never gets sick of them by some blessing from God. “Home. Home sounds good. Your place, lets go there.” A soft voice, a little pleading, as they glance back at the club. They hold their other hand out, so that Julián can hold both of them and they can apparate back, apparate away from here. 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

They don’t like this plan, don’t like the idea of Vesper putting themself in danger like this, almost as bait in a way, but they know that it’s the best chance they have at getting to the bottom of this, and doing it without anyone else possibly getting hurt. There’s a reason they’re the aurors, after all, sometimes this is how cases are, sometimes you have to put yourself in harms way to keep other people safe. That doesn’t make them like the idea of Vesper doing it any more, though. It just makes them wish they could be the one to do that part of the task, the real danger resting squarely on their own shoulders, in the same way they’d wish that in any case with a friend as close as Vesper, even someone like Jal, who ultimately could probably take care of himself in the face of danger better than Lex could thanks to his own strengths.

The only bit of solace here is that they’ll go in together, so Vesper won’t be totally alone. They know that they could take care of themself if it came down to it, but Lex would never risk that; they’re partners on this case, after all, what they do, they do together, but more than that, they want to watch out for their friend, make sure they come through this safely, just as much as they want to make sure the missing girls are found safely. Beneath the worry, there is a bit of pride, though, seeing how determined that Vesper is here, despite the risks involved, to do anything to make sure this gets solved. They’re brave, too brave maybe, stubbornly so, it’s something that Lex has always admired, even if it might just end up giving them a heart attack from all the stress one day.

Poppy agrees, just as brave in the face of it all, and it’s all set as Vesper explains how they’re going to do it all. Despite the worry that comes with this plan, they find themself glad once again that Vesper is on this case with them, because they’re such a natural at it, inherently knowing what to do and say to make people comfortable, to explain things easily in a way that takes a lot of effort for Lex. When they glance back at them, Lex nods. “It’s all settled. If you could send me any information we need to know to make this convincing in the meantime, I’d appreciate it. Then get in touch with us once you’re finished, and we’ll go from there. We’ll take care of this,” they nod, trying for some certainty in their voice.

“I’ll send you what you need. We need to get back in now, if we’re going to salvage this thing,” Benny says, looking back at Poppy, putting a hand on her back. They exchange the necessary information, and then say their goodbyes for the moment, Benny and Poppy heading back towards the photoshoot.

They can’t help but let out a sigh as soon as they’re alone again. This isn’t going to be simple, no part of it easy, but they know it’s their best chance. 

“It’s a good plan, Ves,” they say, glancing down at them as they start back downstairs. “Pretty damn dangerous, going in blind, and as different people, but you’re right, it’s the cleanest way to do this. We should find a place to hunker down and prepare while we wait for them.”

.

Vesper watches for a long moment, as Poppy and Benny walk away from them. Back towards possible danger, back the way that they came. They glance up at Lex, then, and let out a small sigh of their own. It was nice, really, to hear that Lex say that they had come up with something good here, that it wasn’t the stupidest idea that they ever had. As impulsive as they might be, all they wanted was to help. All they wanted was to do a good job, and they tried so hard to trust their instincts when they started yelling for attention. 

They reach forward, thoughtless, to press a quick touch to Lex’s arm. Slightly thankful, slightly comforting as they start to walk out of the building, down the stairs. “Don’t worry.” They say. “We’ll be careful, it will all be okay.” They make sure that they sound confident, knowing that this will all be easier if they can just believe in themself, if they can have the thoughtles surity that gets so many people through the day. “I’ll practice my Poppy while we wait for them to get in touch, and it’ll be fine.” 

They stop at the front desk on their way out the door, gathering the information that had been gathered about Lazlo’s schedule for them. They could pour over it when they found somewhere to settle. Vesper had a bad feeling that it wouldn’t make him look any more innocent than he had when he was upstairs. And part of them wished it would, because that would make it less incidious, because they’d like for their instincts about this to be right, for the monster not to live inside the castle with all the princesses and princes, all the damsels in distress. 

Stepping back into the sun when they get outside feels like a breath of fresh air, feels like it leaks some of the tension out of their bones. They glance around. “Well, we should get some lunch, to pass the time. We can take it back to one of the conference rooms to wait, work on our covers together?” They frame it like a question, something for Lex to agree or disagree to. It sounds like the best way to pass the time to Vesper, the best way for them to smooth the rough edges of what they need to do and make sure that they’re ready for it. 

They’re sure that they will be, already keeping Poppy in their minds eye, remembering the way that she talked and the way that she moved, the way she held herself, the pretty expanse of her face. It wasn’t so far off what Vesper could do, something already deeply framed in the natura rythem of their usual morphs. 

They arch an eyebrow, questioning. “Coffee’s on me, you know, for pulling this out of nowhere on you.” 

[vesperbranwen]

jdelacruz​:

It happens faster than he can react to it, the shift in Vesper’s face from amusement to fear. The guy’s talking in fragments, little pieces of sentences that don’t make any sense to him, like pieces of a conversation he’s only hearing half of, and acting like Vesper is supposed to be filling in the other half. Except Julián can tell that Vesper doesn’t know who he is, can see that in their face, too. Can see that they’re not lying when they say they don’t know who he is, that they’re not pretending to be clueless.

It’s impossible to tell if the guy’s mistaken Vesper for someone else—someone with, apparently, the same strange tattoo—or if… well, what, Vesper hadn’t remembered who they were, when Rafael had found them over a decade ago, saved them and then brought them home, acting like some fucking hero for saving and then bedding some poor helpless soul, and as far as Julián knew, those memories had never come back, were unrecoverable. So it’s possible this guy really does know Vesper, from before all of that. 

But it doesn’t matter if he really knows them or not, not when they look so scared, so shaken, so upset by the whole thing. He doesn’t like the way this guy—best intentions or not—is invading their space, reaching out for them when they’ve already pulled away; he doesn’t like the way this guy isn’t leaving when they’ve already told him to fuck off.

So he sits forward, puts his drink down.

     “They said fuck off, man,” he says, forcefully, and the guy looks surprised, when he turns to acknowledge Julián, surprised and something else… a little vulnerable, too, maybe, his eyes a little wide and worried. Not worried about Julián—worried about Vesper.

     “You don’t understand,” he starts, and opens his mouth to keep going, but Julián cuts him off before he can. 

      “You need to go.”

Vesper glances, relieved, as Julián perks up and moves to attention, leaps to the defense. He’s a good man, a good brother, and he would never just sit there and watch Vesper freak out, watch some weirdo talk to them like this. There’s a conflict in their heart, about it all. Part of them wants to know more, part of them is too damn scared of what could happen –– of getting their hopes up, of learning things they can’t take back. They feel sick to their stomach. 

So Julián moves, and Vesper focuses on him instead, the way he instantly backs them up and the forceful tone in his voice when he says it. Loyal to the end. They swallow, and breathe past whatever fucking strange panic is swelling up on them, the one that’s telling them their survival instinct might be fright instead of flight. 

The man looks back at them, when Julián insists, and Vesper almost, almost wants to tell him to stay. There is something... it isn’t familiar, but its a gut feeling. Something that tells them this is more than just a case of mistaken identity, something that makes them feel like reaching for a past that they know isn’t there. But they’re more scared than anything else, more freaked out by the grabbing touch and the insistence in his voice, when Vesper’s mind is an empty slate and they have no idea what the hell is going on. 

“You know what, no.” They say, “We’re gonna go. Have a good night, or whatever. And think about not grabbing at aurors in public, next time you have a few drinks.” It’s not calm, their voice is shaking, but its probably more put together than they might have managed if they were somewhere else, on their own, not with Julián, their fucking rock. They slip out and past him –– and he froze at the word auror, as if that was taboo for him, as if he was more scared suddenly. He hisses out a curse and heads away, even as Vesper is shrugging on their coat and making for the door, glancing back to make sure that Julián is following them. 

They shake their head, “You know what. You’re right. I’m telling Ransom that his club fucking sucks.” And then, outside in the cool air, out on the street and away from prying eyes. “What the fuck, J.”  

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

They’ve known Vesper long enough that they can read them well, even with the dullness they’ve given the world, an extra push to keep themself calm around them today. It makes them wish they could do something to help, to make them feel solid and certain, even in the face of something as terrifying as lost memories. They can see them trying to put on a brave face, trying to power through like it’s all okay, and they’re completely fine, and it makes them want to do anything they can to make that true. But it doesn’t feel like their place, right now, when they can’t stop thinking about how they’re making it worse, with their own problems, just more for Vesper to worry about. It feels like an internal war, for all intents and purposes, the need to help their friend, but the conscious unable to get past what Rafael said to them on the balcony, even if they had fought back then, tried to make it clear they didn’t agree with what he said. They don’t know what the right thing to do is here, and they hate feeling that, when things should be so easy with Vesper, impossible not to curse themself for making it this instead. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Ves, I promise. Like you said, I know how it is,” Lex says, voice quiet, and they reach out and give their shoulder a squeeze, quick, a little tentative. Maybe they shouldn’t––their own body, after all, tenses a little with it, and they can practically see the look Rafael gave them clear in their mind again––but they want to give them something, some reassurance.

Vesper goes on, though, and Lex hesitates. Given everything, they know the answer here should be simple, they should just tell Vesper it’s alright, that they should just head back to the office, shouldn’t worry about them, when it’s already a hard enough day for them. But it’s hard to think about leaving them, when they look a little lost, something soft and vulnerable in their eyes that makes Lex’s heart ache, when they want to spend time with them. And they don’t want Vesper to have to feel like that, they don’t want to be the reason they feel worse. They know how hard it is when days like this happen for them, but they can’t shake the implication that they make it worse anyway with their own not insignificant pile of bullshit they’re dealing with. It’s not fair to put any of that on Vesper, to make them worry even more, when they have so much on their mind anyway. They need to find something more solid, before they can be more honest, something certain and unwavering, the sort of calm that doesn’t feel like it could break into a hundred pieces if they’re hit just right. Like it nearly had at the party.

Selfishness is a hard flaw to push through, though. And the calm they do have, the cool, detached part of them wonders, if they stand the chance of making it worse either way, it’s only fair to do so how they want. An easy choice, when they consider their own words to Rafael about letting Vesper decide themself what’s best for them.

“Yeah, sure, soup would be nice… You could grab something, too, bring it back to my place. Don’t want you to head back to work without eating something. Can’t promise I’ll be much fun, but until we reschedule, it’s something,” they shrug, like it’s simple, like it doesn’t feel a little like playing with fire, agreeing to Vesper’s offer. “Maybe don’t mention this, when you get home tonight, though. Don’t mention me.”

.

They can sense the moment of hesitation. It sparks a kind of fear in their chest, this momentary certainty that Lex is going to brush them off, here. Like their company might not be as wanted as they hoped. That wouldn’t be Lex’s fault, if it was true. Especially if they weren’t feeling well –– and Vesper really did believe that they weren’t, in a certain sense. Something seemed off about them, they were tired around the eyes and Vesper knows that they haven’t been sleeping well, that things have been so wrong lately, that they’ve been stranger and acting differently, and Vesper is worried about them. But Vesper wouldn’t blame them, if they just wanted some time away from them. Vesper could be...loud and clingy, asking for too much from everyone, always begging for more. Even now, when every mistake that had been made was theres, they were asking for a second chance. Practically pulling at Lex’s sleeve, looking at them with yearning eyes. 

They always wanted too damn much. Always wanted too much from Lex, and they were a little frantic with it now. It’s been hitting them hard lately, as much as they want to bury it deep down. They’re drawn to Lex like a moth to a flame, like Icarus to the sun. It might burn them, in the end, if they aren’t careful. And they’re being careful. As much as they can be. But they want to fix this now so badly that they’d gladly singe their fingertips, looking for some kind of forgiveness for their little slip up. 

Vesper smiles, a fraction more genuine, mostly just kind of relieved, when Lex agrees to their offer. They nod their head, soup and something for them, a visit to Lex’s house to spend a probably much extended lunch break. Vesper doesn’t have any cases today, nowehere to go, no one to see. The smile doesn’t fall, necessarily, at the next comment. But something shifts, they know, with the sudden barrage of thoughts in their own head. “Don’t mention you?” They ask, voice cautious. 

Except it makes sense. It does. Lex, cornered with Rafael at the party. The jealous edge that Vesper knows he can have. They swallow, feeling a certain kind of panic well up in them again, letting out a shakey laugh as they nod their head. They’re scared, suddenly, of the idea that Rafael might have... what he might have said, to Lex, about them. Things that might have made it seem like they weren’t worth fighting for, weren’t worth the time. Silly, delicate little Vesper. Not the best friend to make, when they could hardly even handle themselves. They could hear it in his voice, they always imagined that it would sound just a little bit like what he said to them, as well. He was right, most of the time, but that didn’t mean that they wanted Lex to hear it, to know it, to act on it as if Rafael’s word was the gospel truth. They cross their arms over their chest, just loosely, just enough to feel like theres a wall between them and the rest of the world. “Don’t mention you.” They say again, with a sigh. “What did he say to you?” The question finally slips out, because its Lex, and they might not ask with someone else, even if theres a hint of the defensive in their own voice. “God, whatever it was, just forget it. I know how to deal with Raf’s bullshit, Lex. Better than anyone.”

And then they sigh, and turn to look at the little cafe, just nearby. They feel determined now, more than ever. Feel glad for the excuse to take time to collect themself, if they can, to smooth their raw edges and be more like the good, fun Vesper, the one that people like to be around.  “I’ll see you in half an hour, with your food. And I won’t mention it.” 

[vesperbranwen]

jdelacruz​:

They seem to have eased into things, a little, not a full smile but at least an attempt at one, and their leg against his returns them to a familiar kind of warmth, an ease he knows they both long for, especially after the long stretches when Rafael doesn’t travel as much as he usually does and Vesper finds it harder to get away from the house for a night out here and there. 

     “I’ll bet the next round that it’s you,” he jokes with half a grin, and then he glances over his shoulder to see who they’re looking at, and merlin, he hopes it’s them, because the kid headed their way is easy enough on the eyes, might have been his type twenty years ago, but way too young for him now.

He sits back, picks up his glass and takes a sip, prepared to watch Vesper humor the guy and let him down easy; it’s far from the first time someone has come over to try to pick up Vesper while they’ve been out for drinks, since Julián clearly doesn’t look like a threat to anyone’s chances, though it happens less at their usual place, the kind of place where most people are just minding their own business. The guy approaches the table and, as Julián expected, his attention is clearly focused on Vesper; he stops next to them, looking down at where they’re sitting.

     “You’re—” the guy starts, but before he goes on he reaches down, grabs Vesper’s arm, and Julián can’t tell what he’s doing, at first, as he turns Vesper’s arm in his hand, and then he sees it. The guy’s looking at the tattoo on Vesper’s arm, the white ink, a snake with detailed scales. It seems like he’s not just looking at it, though, because he has the same one, white ink and everything, the same exact pattern of scales, the snake coiled in the same way, not on his arm but on the back of his hand, its tail trailing down his middle finger, its head just above the jut of his wrist. 

Sometimes, Vesper kind of loves when this happens. When attention is leveled at them from a stranger, someone who doesn’t even know them. It’s nice to know that people just think that they’re hot. And they almost have a complex about it, what bodies people like and what they don’t, if they’re better when they’re blonde and tiny. They’re not entirely up for it tonight, even as they shoot a grin at Julián. They get ready to nod along to whatever this dude has to say, to tell him that they’re sure he’s very nice, but Vesper is just trying to have a nice night with their very dear big brother.

They blink up at him, when he approaches the table. Ready to launch in, they already have the words half out of their mouth. “Not interested––” They try to start, and then find themself flinching just a little bit when he reaches down to grab their arm, twisting slightly to look at the tattoo they’ve had for as long as they can remember, the one that almost blends away in their memory for how little they think of it, even though they never try to make it go away. The same tattoo is there, on his own hand, starker against his skin. The white snake, exactly the same, like a harbinger of some kind of doom. And Vesper’s heart starts to pound, just a little. They look up at his face again and –– nothing. He looks at them like he knows them, but he can’t because. Because they don’t know him, even as a strange and twisted feeling grows in their stomach. 

He looks in their eyes, and breaks out in a grin. He looks happy. He looks like he’s found the sun, somehow. It leaves them shaken, still. “V –– babe, shit, it’s really fucking you.” He says, even as they’re glancing toward Julián for some kind of help, here. They shake their head, even as they’re doing it, let out one of their frantic and almost unhinged laughs.

“Sorry –– Um. No. I think you have the wrong person.” They say, almost apologetic with it. He drops their arm, finally, after the lingering touch, and they snatch it away from him even further, press back further into the booth. “Sorry.” 

His gaze turns hesitance, and he looks at Julián with a curious gaze, as if worried that Vesper is only doing this for his sake. “You really don’t remember?” He asks, and they find themself shaking their head again. He leans in, almost frantic with it, looks in their eyes as if he’s searching for something, reaching out for their arm again as if to pull them away, though they pull back from the touch. He looks wounded, looks scared, suddenly. “Come on, V. Let me take you home.” 

And they laugh, again, shaking their head. Suddenly scared. Suddenly shakey. Suddenly freaked the fuck out –– they were already so deep in their own paranoia today, already so scared that the world was out to get them. “No offence, but fuck off.” 

[vesperbranwen]

jdelacruz​:

It’s not hard to see that something’s wrong; Vesper’s easy to read, after all this time, even the things he knows they don’t say because it makes them feel like a burden. He can tell they’re upset about something—probably the party, still, which is more than understandable—and can tell that there’s something they aren’t saying. But he’s never been the kind to push, never wanted to make them say anything more than what they were already willing to. They came to things in their own time, processed them in their own way, and forcing them to confront something they didn’t want to had never been something he thought would be particularly helpful. 

     “Becca Savage told you that you’re her hero?” he says, picking the one Vesper seems the least distressed about, just to ease them into the conversation. It’s the easiest for him to talk about, too, because he doesn’t really want to talk about the party, and he really doesn’t want to talk about Lucky. “I mean, I’m not surprised that you’re someone’s hero, but I’m shocked that a Savage has such good taste in role models; that doesn’t exactly run in her family.” 

He nudges their foot with his under the table, a quiet little gesture of affection, something he hopes will pull them out of the quiet sort of hesitance they’ve fallen into as they speak, the faraway look that lingers in their eye for just a moment. 

     “I’ve been needing it too, honestly,” he says, after a moment. A chance for things to feel normal for a night, a chance to see Vesper like this—he feels, sometimes, like he only gets to look at them from one angle at a time, and too much time only seeing one view means he starts to forget what the whole picture looks like. How bright and audacious and entirely them they can be, when given the chance to be and do what they want, instead of just doing what they think they should. 

They try for a smile, when Julián focuses in on the Becca of it all. She was a sweet girl, and it was nice to think of the kind words she’d had ready for Vesper at the party, for the sweet gift and the way she was so earnest with what she said. That had been one of the nicer moments of the night, even with all of the horrible things that came before, even with the crying mess that Vesper had briefly been reduced to. 

Vesper can’t remember if they actually filled Julián in on that mess, when they saw each other again during the party. Almost certainly not, with the determination they had found to make sure that everybody else just got through the damned night. They had wanted so badly, at a certain point, for it to all be over. They had wanted as well for it to never end, because that would mean that they were alone again. Becca had been some comfort from that, a port in the storm, someone that Vesper could hide with for just a few moments before reality came calling again. Afterwards, Vesper had thought that Julián probably had enough on his plate, and kept themself busy until he could slip home and out of the lions den once again. 

Still, they offer some level of honesty on the topic, rolling their eyes at themself in a brief moment, thinking back on it. “She found me weeping in the dressing room.” They say, with a sigh. “It may have been more to make me feel better than anything else, after what mother said, but I’ll take any win that I can get.”

They soften again, as they always do, looking at Julián and then away again. “We should do this more often.” They muse, thinking on it. As they glance around, they notice a boy at the bar looking at them, between the two of them. A thoughtful, searching look on his face. Vesper looks away, back at Julián, doesn’t want to invite anything like that on a night like this. They mimic Juliáns earlier movement, instead, nudge their leg against his, settle in to a kind of warmth with him. “Well, maybe not this. But the old place. Our place.”

They feel so tired with it, with life, and the tenderness of just being somewhere with Julián is a good thing. Makes them feel, they don’t know –– like they don’t want any of their delicate peace to be disturbed. Someone is approaching, though, from what they can see, and they lean forward with a sigh. Their arms are bare in the heat of the club, and thet rest them on the table in front of them, as they lean in toward Julián. “I think one of us is about to get hit on, brother.” 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

They don’t make it more than a few steps out the door before Vesper appears, rushing toward the cafe, clearly out of breath, and they feel… they don’t know what they feel. They feel guilty, because Vesper looks a little frayed around the edges, and not just from clearly rushing to get to the cafe. It makes them think they should’ve messaged them, should’ve told them not to worry about lunch, that they weren’t feeling up for it themself anyway, instead of putting something else on their shoulders, making them feel bad for forgetting.

Because they can tell that’s what it is, one of those days when things are hazy and hard, and things slip their mind more easily than normal, in the way that’s not something as simple as just a lunch slipping their mind. And that just makes them feel worse, because it’s more proof they’ve been selfish, only making it all harder to deal with. They can’t stand that thought.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s alright. I’m not feeling too well, anyway, my stomach hasn’t been quite right since last week. Think I’m probably gonna just head back home, take a sick day,” Lex explains, trying to keep it as nonchalant as they can, like it’s true that none of it’s a worry. They think maybe that’ll make things easier, if they put it on themself. It’s not a lie, after all; their stomach always feels strange for a while after blood since they don’t feed regularly, like normal food isn’t really what their body wants, doesn’t sit quite right until it’s forced to accept they’re not going to live off of blood now like they did when they were a kid. It’s an exaggeration, though, an excuse to follow through on the little voice that sounds an awful lot like Rafael telling them they aren’t helping Vesper with their games.

“But you should have lunch,” they add, after a second, giving them a nod, an attempt at a smile. “Have a slice of that lemon pound cake for me, you look like you could use something sweet, and we can reschedule for another time, when I’m feeling better.”

A pause, maybe a little awkward, debating if they should say what they’re thinking, debating if expressing any worry is helpful or not. But they can’t not, because even if they know they should step back, Vesper is their friend. “Rough morning?” Lex asks, tentatively.

.

Vesper pulls in a breath, tries to seem... like they’re having a normal reaction, about all of this. Like they’re a normal person who feels things normall, like they aren’t going to catastrophise about this all day long, if they don’t pull it back together soon, if they don’t fix whatever they broke here. There’s something delicate around Lex’s eyes, something almost guilty. And Vesper has been around the block enough times to know when someone is trying to make them feel better, when someone is trying to take the heat off them and their own stupid brain, this vexing part of them that can’t hold on to one simple plan with a friend. A friend, the dearest one they have, the one they’ve been aching to spend time with ever since a moment alone on the balcony of their house. 

They swallow past the feeling in their chest, plaster on one of those comforting smiles, when Lex tells them that they fill ill, something not right in the stomach. The guilt is clawing up in them and part of them wants to fight it. They’re sure that Lex isn’t lying, not really. But it doesn’t feel like the whole truth, either. It doesn’t feel like honesty. There’s a little rift between them, a tiny crack that’s been there since Lex got back, and it feels like a chasm right now. It feels like Vesper could be swalowed whole by it, if they weren’t careful. Like a rough sea with a current strong enough to pull them under and drown them in their own inadiquacy. They want to take their own shaking hands out of the equation here, and focus on Lex. What Lex wants, what Lex needs from them, what they might be able to offer them to make all of this better. It’s just... so hard not to be selfish about it. Because now that they’re here, with the knowledge that yet more important details have slipped from their memory, they don’t want to feel anything like alone. They don’t want to go back to the office and sit with it, the guilt for clearly making Lex feel forgotten, the fear in their chest that someday they’ll forget it all again, like the first twenty years of their life. 

“Oh,” They nod their head, even though a different part of them wants to say: hey, no. They want to say: hey, come on, get lunch with me, don’t leave me hanging here.  They want to beg, and they might, if it wasn’t such a shakey moment, if they deserved something like Lex giving in to their selfish wants and needs. The last thing that Lex needs is another weight on their shoulders. “When you’re feeling better.”

“Um, well.” They say, and try for that smile again. Lex asks, voice tentative, and Vesper lets out a shakey laugh. As shakey as everything else about them, right now. “Just –– one of those days. You know how it is.” But they shake their head, even as they say it, look at Lex with soft and gentle eyes. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t...” Didn’t remember. Wasn’t good enough to. Sorry that they’re cursed with everything wrong about them. “But I’ll tell everyone, that you’re...sick, if you head home. And um, I know I missed lunch but. Maybe I can bring you soup. Maybe that might help. If you want. But I get it if you’d rather be alone.” 

[vesperbranwen]

lexluxford​:

None of it feels good. They think that the key here is going to be getting into that private studio, but as it stands they’re not sure how they’re going to be able to do that without going against several procedures that they shouldn’t, which Lex isn’t opposed to, per se, but they try to be more careful than most with that sort of thing, knowing that there are plenty of people looking for any excuse to give any given part-human a strike on their record. But they’re confident in being here with Vesper that they’ll be able to come up with something together once they have a chance to talk. In a way, it’s a relief to get the clear dismissal from Lazlo, to have the chance to regroup, not having gotten anything concrete enough here yet.

They follow Vesper out of the room, glad to get away from the man, and the uncomfortable feeling that he gives the whole place. Once they’re out in the hallway, their eye goes to Poppy and Benny at the other end of the hallway, too, just as Vesper’s does. 

Before they can say anything, though, Vesper says what they’re thinking, too, and they nod, about to open their mouth, but they keep going, saying they have an idea, an idea that they’re not going to like. And that sends their thoughts racing, already thinking of a dozen dangerous ideas that Vesper might have to get what they need. This isn’t something that’s unusual, after all. They’ve worked with them for years, and they’ve seen it before on cases, the way that they’re so willing to jump into danger, impulsively following their instincts, without much care for their own safety. So it’s also not a surprise that before they can even ask what the plan is, they’re already putting it into action, heading off towards Poppy and Benny full of determination.

Lex takes a breath, prepares themself to also dive head first into this plan that they’re apparently not going to like, and follow after them again. They trust Vesper’s instincts, though, know that whatever plan they’ve come up with is going to be a good one, something that’ll get the job done well, they just worry what it’s going to involve doing. And they let Vesper take the lead here, silently waiting for the ball to drop. Poppy looks anxious still, and Benny looks a little worried, too, but it’s still clear that continuing things is the last thing she wants to do. Their heart aches for her, clear how terrified she is that she could be next, and they also can’t help but look at Vesper with a frown when they ask Poppy to finish the shoot, and convince Lazlo to have the private shoot tomorrow, too.

And then the plan comes into full view, and they have to close their eyes for a minute, shaking their head. “Fuck. Vesper, are you serious right now?” they sigh deeply, their heart sinking, not caring so much they’re acting thoroughly unprofessional in front of witnesses.

“What do you mean, you’ll do it for her?” Benny asks, looking between them.

“They’re a metamorphmagus,” Lex sighs, “They mean they’ll literally go in as Ms. Sinclair here, do the photoshoot for her, so that we can investigate the studio ourselves without question.” And they hate the idea of it, it makes their stomach turn, thinking of Vesper putting themself in danger like that, but they also can’t think of anything better, a way to talk them out of this risk that’s not going to sound selfish. But they’re not letting them go in there alone, that’s out of the question. They look from Vesper, back to Benny. “And I’ll go in as you. Same height, similar face shape, shouldn’t be hard to mimic with a few spells.”

Benny looks at Poppy, clearly considering the whole idea of it. “Having nonprofessionals acting in our place… it’s not ideal. But I’m willing to entertain the idea if it’ll help your investigation. If Poppy’s alright with it.”

They spare a glance for Lex, over their shoulder, when it’s clear that they’ve realised exactly what Vesper’s plan might be here. Its a foolish thing, they know, but its what their gut tells them is right –– and they’ve always been one to leap first and ask questions later, see what their instincts had in store for them. They knew that Lex wasn’t going to like it. People never did, when Vesper got damn ideas in their head, when they decided something and jumped straight in without giving another thought to other plans, without waiting and running it past the others first. This was why Hattori would never like them, would never forgive them. This was why they were one of the more difficult people on the squad to work with, for a time. Lex must really, really not like it, if they slip into something this unprofessional on a case. Vesper arches an eyebrow at them, almost opens their mouth to argue back, tell Lex just how serious they were. 

“It’s the best way for us to get a look at Lazlo’s studio while his guard is down.” Vesper says, filling in the blank there. And let out a sigh, feeling a spark of their own worry flare up at the idea of Lex going in their with them, disguised as Benny. It wasn’t fair of them, and obviously they wouldn’t have been able to go in alone, but it still makes them worried. They’d like to keep Lex as safe for possible, for as long as possible. Lex was so precious, after all. And could use... something soft, someone to look out for them. That person clearly wasn’t Vesper, right now. They press their lips together, look to Poppy and Benny with something expectant in their eyes. 

“What do you think, Poppy?” They ask, voice gentle. “It’s up to you, you can just go back in and cancel it all, if that’s what you want. No pressure. But it would be a big help, and if what my gut is telling me is true, it might help us find the others.” 

Poppy glances between them, lowers her arms to her side, skimming her fingers over her own skin. It looks like she wants to grip on to something, and Vesper is already watching the way she moves, the exact details of her face, trying to shape it into something they can reconstruct later. Eventually, Poppy nods her head, lets out a long sigh. She sounds worried to the bone, and Vesper still aches for her, Vesper still wants to protect her as well. “Okay.” She says, quiet. “I mean, yeah, of course. If you think you can do it. If you think it will help, of course I can’t say no. I can do it. I’ll um. I’ll make sure it still happens, as long as you do the rest.”

Vesper gives her a smile, grateful for it. “You won’t regret this, Poppy. Everything’s going to be okay.” And they reach out, finally, touch her shoulder. “I’m going to give you my details. When you’re done for the day, you send me a message, and we can meet back up for a little while. I’ll work on my morph, you can tell me everything I need to know about tomorrow. Okay?”

And Vesper is already writing down their information, glancing at Lex. “Okay?” They ask, again, just to make sure. Because Lex is their lead here, because Lex is the one in charge of them, very technically. 

[vesperbranwen]

beccasavage​:

She’s about to comment on Vesper offering her some of their clothes, which is already ridiculously cool, when Vesper mentions the other closet, and, okay, she’ll have to put a pin in the first thing because clearly the secret closet full of cool work clothes from a badass thrift store is where the fun is at here. Vesper’s work clothes are always amazing, and as much as the clothes in here are pretty, both of their interests clearly lie in the interesting stuff which, yeah, okay, none of it is here.

Everything in here is… obviously expensive, obviously designer. It’s nice, some of it is even stuff she’d wear herself given the option. But it definitely doesn’t look like stuff Vesper picked out for themself, and clearly their husband cares more about things looking pretty than pushing the boundaries of fashion and exploring new looks. There are… literally eight identical cocktail dresses, white satin and low-cut, all next to each other on one rack, and next to them four more in black.

     “Can I— hold on, can I see all your work clothes? Is that weird, for me to ask? Because they’re, like, the coolest. I’m kind of obsessed with them. They’re like if Crow had any taste and didn’t just insist on being an eyesore all the time. Which— I’d say don’t tell him I said that, but he knows it’s true.” 

They feel a little spark of something in their chest, something bright and comforted and excited, flattered. Vesper had hardly known what to do with themself when they started work, and realised that this was a domain where Rafael really had no say. He wasn’t interested in it, he didn’t want to hear about it, and he certainly didn’t want them to be Rafael’s trophy wife in the office, where someone might see them behaving in a way that wasn’t correct, wasn’t polite. They had been so excited with the knowledge that they could morph however they want, that they could dress however they want. The chocies were theirs. 

All the kids these days seem to have that freedom built in. Becca and Crow and Emmy dress like they could never let someone else control them. It’s strange to Vesper that they had to win that for themself, now that they think about it. They giggle, a little, bright. They’re glad that Becca thinks they look good, that their clothes are something worthy of being obsessed over. 

The closet, tucked away out of sight, feels like the homiest place in this house. All the stuff they bought for themself, all the things they picked out and can wear with whatever else they like. It was them, exactly them, and it was definitely worthy of being obsessed over. 

“God, that isn’t weird at all. Of course you can.” Vesper gets up, because they want to do that really so much more than they want to do anything else. They extend a hand to help Becca up, give her a warm smile. “Come on, I’d much rather do that now than go back downstairs, if you’re up for it.”