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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jan 3, 2011 20:13:18 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Almost three weeks since Silas had gone missing. It wasn’t much longer than an extended holiday but it felt like months. Every day had dragged by, wondering when he’d return and if he’d even give her a chance to explain. It had been torture; not knowing if he was even dead or alive.
At first she just assumed he’d taken an unannounced leave, and the first day had been a suspenseful event. She’d arrived at his house on Valentine’s evening and found the place empty but the lights on, as if he’d just vanished. Had he found out about the potion? Left so it would wear off? Vanishing into thin air was an entirely plausible explanation.
She was acutely aware of how long the potion would have lasted, and she was terrified how he would have reacted when it did wear off. When he didn’t return after a few days, worry for herself began to subside under the growing worry for him. Suddenly finding his owl - her neck broken from presumably hitting the closed door - was an omen, and she began to fear the worst.
And so commenced the three weeks of hell, trying to dispel rumours surrounding Silas’s sudden absence and acting as his substitute in the daily running of Scores. Without him there, she had no buffer between herself and the rest of the company. She had many an argument with the other department managers on spending costs and irregularities in paperwork. Her voice would be hoarse after shouting for hours on end, and aside from an occasional trip home for fresh clothing, she was all but living at Scores.
She’d visited Silas’ house many times in case he had returned without word, only to find it just as she had left it. On perhaps the third visit, a week after his disappearance, by chance she spotted something irregular on the lawn. What looked like two short smooth sticks turned out to be a wand. Silas’ wand, broken in two. The discovery and its ramifications hit her hard, and it forced her to think about reevaluating her situation.
Silas was blatantly in trouble, but who could she tell? If she involved herself, her own crimes would come to light, and she was not sure if she was willing to risk everything for a man who never wanted her in the first place. It was an internal war of right and wrong and consequences, which she finally quelled by submitting an anonymous tip to the Ministry. She could only hope it wasn’t too little too late.
She hated herself for thinking it, but if he didn’t return, he would never be able to tell anyone about the potion. The thought induced a near panic attack every time. The conflict between self preservation and getting Silas back was too much to think about, and many times she found herself so distressed that she was near to breaking down.
Almost three weeks of that Hell, and then she got the letter. Thankfully she was home when it arrived, as the resulting tears would have convinced the entire staff of Scores that she’d finally lost it.
Knowing Silas was safe hadn’t been the total relief she was expecting. She wasn’t sure what was worse: not knowing a thing or finding out that he was in the care of vampires. The things she feared the most had Silas. What had happened to him?
Since she’s had no word from him - positive or otherwise - she had spent a long while scared he might not return at all. Now she found out he was in a vampire den? She couldn’t help but wonder if he still wasn’t out of the woods yet.
She carried the letter around with her for a day, peeking at it occasionally, particularly one line: 'Mr. Rosier has requested that you be allowed special visitor permissions.' He wanted to see her. Could this be it? Did he want to confront her? Were there prison bars in her future? Or would he forgive her? The only way to find out was to go and see him.
She would have to face what she’d done sooner or later, and Jac was not a procrastinator by nature. Nevertheless, it took her a day to work up the courage to reply. Her response was short, making an appointment for the next day. She had a pile of crumpled attempts to shoo into the bin when she was done; she had tried so many times to include a note for Silas, but in the end she decided that anything she was going to explain to him, she had to do face to face.
~*~*~*~
The Coven building was almost as imposing as the vampires themselves. Not outwardly, of course. Everything looked normal, but there was just something about it that made her skin crawl. As soon as she stepped out of the fireplace in the modest reception room, her heart kicked into overdrive and it was all she could do not to leap back into the fireplace and cower at home as the occupants of the room all turned in sync to watch her.
Steeling herself, she announced herself at the reception desk (congratulating herself on only a mild quaver to her voice), and immediately regretted coming when she was asked to turn over her wand for the duration of the visit. Alone in a vampire nest without her wand?! She'd be defenseless. Luckily, logic interfered. What could she really do against a detirmined vampire even with a wand? Her magic was more suited to collating, and she doubted she could thwart a vampire coven establishment by filing them away in alphabetical order. Her wand was useless unless she knew some fireball spells and funnily enough, she'd never had the need to learn them being an accountant.
So it was with the most courage she had ever displayed that she handed over her wand, and followed after a stoic vampire nurse. She was led through fluorescent-lit corridors; there were no oil-lamps or windows here. Her escort opened a room for her, and she stepped in. “Mr. Rosier will be along shortly.” The nurse assured her, and Jac was glad she was already sitting when the peek of fangs made her flinch.
The door closed behind the vampire with a solid clunk reserved for heavily-secured doors. Jac swallowed and tried to stop her hands from shaking by clutching her purse in her lap. A strange clock on one wall announced the time as 20:02, and it took Jac a moment to translate from 24-hour to 12. She’d been here for a good ten minutes already, despite her appointment being at 8pm. Was Silas keeping her waiting on purpose? She chewed her lip nervously. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he didn’t want to see her after all.
She was standing to leave just as the door opened, and was caught like a doe in the headlights as the man she had worried herself sick over stepped into the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a brief moment she forgot everything; the vampires, her betrayal. All she cared about was that he was safe. “Silas,” she breathed, eyes brimming with every conceivable emotion. |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 13, 2011 10:20:51 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] The door. The door to his room was standing in front of him. It was quiet, white, plain, and would have been completely innocuous if not for the large steel lock outside it. A lock that was designed to keep people in, not keep people out. What else could you expect from a vampire hospital? They didn’t trust each-other any more than Silas trusted them.
Silas was standing outside his room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, staring at the door as though he could make it melt by sheer force of will. He had to open it sooner or later - he knew that - but Jac could wait for another minute while his breathing steadied and the pain receded a little.
The trip to the basement and back had been the longest distance he’d managed since his capture and it had taken more energy than he'd expected. The only reason he was leaning against the wall at all was because he was trying to mask the fact he could barely stand. Silas’s ego was hard to wound, but the fact Dacian had bested him so easily stung his pride severely. No one - especially not Jac - was allowed to appreciate the extent of the damage, even if he had to fake perfect health for the rest of his life.
And hell, he wasn’t so sure he even wanted to open the door either. What fucking good was meeting her again supposed to do? What was it supposed to achieve?
Yelling. Yelling worked for a start.
Dacian’s attack he had seen coming, but Jac was an adversary from the last place he would have ever expected. And that made it worse.
Fuck. His scowl deepened. Why the hell was she even here? He didn’t understand. She’d drugged him, broken the law, lied, cheated, had the fucking gall to dare go up against him and then skip right back to him when he called. The only reason she could think of for her return was that she’d come back to clean up her mess: the room was quiet, alone, and he hadn't told anyone what she’d done. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and kill him (way to make it obvious), but the scene was set for a memory charm. Jac had already proven how efficient she was at fucking with people's heads.
Care. And to think he'd even humored the idea she might have cared. When he’d gone missing she hadn’t said a word to anyone. If she had, rescue would have come sooner. He bet his disappearance was mighty convenient for her. His jaw clenched. She'd probably been fucking relieved she didn't have to keep up the act of affection around him. Well, she likely hadn't counted on him ever showing up alive again either, so he'd take his snatches of schadenfreude where he could get it.
Silas’s gaze didn’t leave the door even when he gruffly addressed the nearby vampire. "Get rid of her wand."
His guard looked up calmly. "We take them from guests at reception. There's nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried," Silas snapped. Somehow he didn’t think his companion was convinced.
Another handful of seconds passed. The burning pain in his broken leg was starting to subside now that it was keeping still. The burns were another matter, but they never stopped hurting no matter what he did. He tested the leg carefully. It wasn’t great, but it would do. He was out of excuses.
Grumbling irritatedly under his breath, Silas finally approached the door, walking through. He didn’t look at her at all until he’d finished pulling it shut behind him.
Jac had been sitting near the bed and was already back on her feet, staring at him like he’d just come back from the dead. Maybe he had for all she knew. At this stage it wouldn’t even surprise him to learn if she’d been conspiring with Dacian from the start. There was a pause, and when she breathed his name he actually flinched at the sound; like she didn’t have a right to say it.
Her expression he hadn’t anticipated. She looked like she was about to cry. Where had she learned to do that so well?
There was a terse silence where neither of them moved. It felt like forever, but it could have been only milliseconds. He didn’t know what he’d expected from seeing her again. Now that the numbness was fading he was definitely angry. Hell, it was starting to boil. But that wasn’t the only sensation starting to clench inside his chest. Unpleasant feelings he didn’t even have a name for.
He was the first one to break the silence. His expression was unsympathetic, his voice carrying an underlying current of something akin to disgust. “I didn’t think you had the guts.” | [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jan 17, 2011 21:17:24 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Her knees all but gave way at the sight of him. This was not the man she had been going to meet on that disastrous Valentines night. He had been immaculate, perfectly groomed and dressed in only the finest suits. He had radiated health and strength. This man was a beaten wreck. He wore plain hospital clothes, and though he had tried to keep his facial hair in shape, it was lacking the usual finesse. His face was marked with fading red marks, and his cheeks were gaunt. He looked deathly.
Apart from the eyes. They burned with an expression that Jac had never thought she would be on the receiving end of. She had seen him angry before, and even then he was frightening, but he had never been angry at her. Never at her. She shrunk under his furious glare, terrified that his anger would turn physical as it was wont to do. Visions of exploding filing cabinets and wrecked offices came back to her all too clearly.
He was blocking the door, there weren’t even any windows. Since her wand had been taken, she couldn’t apparate out of here. And without her wand she couldn’t summon it to her, catch-22. She couldn’t escape this. She had to face what she’d done. She had to face his fury. She felt the now familiar feeling of panic creeping in, and she forced it back. Hyperventilating would hardly help, and she didn’t have the luxury of being able to take some time to perform some deep breathing techniques.
Fear was prevalent, but shame came a close second. Her worries that he had been in trouble had already been confirmed by the letter, but just seeing him like this brought every worry to the forefront of her mind. She wanted to help him. Heal him. Of all the things she’d ever thought she’d feel for Silas Rosier, pity was not one of them.
He broke the silence, and the floodgates opened. “Oh Merlin, Silas, I’m sorry. I...” her voice caught in her throat, and she raised shaking fingers to her lips as tears tumbled down her cheeks.
She felt pathetic, but it was all she could do not to break down completely in front of him. Jac had no idea she could ever feel so conflicted. Fear for herself, fear for him, worry at his physical state and shame that she had a part in what had happened. Pity that such a strong man had to exist like this, helped by the enemy and confined to this barbaric place. Joy at simply seeing him alive was the occasional bean of sunshine through an otherwise stormy sky of emotion. Merlin, what she wouldn’t give for a fresh start, for this all to go away and to do it properly this time.
But then reality hit like a clap of thunder and she knew that this was the life she’d created, and her mistakes were hers alone to answer for. But how did she begin? |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 17, 2011 21:19:04 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] That was it. With that one line, Jac’s self-restraint snapped. She started crying, triggering a vestige of something that started to soften the tight set of Silas’s jaw. He could remember all too clearly how Jac’s tears had once been the worst thing in the world, and even now he was garnering absolutely no pleasure from it. But why?
She was lying. He knew she was lying. If she honestly felt sorry she would have stopped the charade a long time ago. She’d have called a search party. She’d have done anything! She wouldn’t have done any of this in the first place! She wasn’t sorry for him. She was sorry she’d gotten caught.
Silas wrenched his gaze away, teeth freshly grit, hands balling info frustrated fists. The tight knot of anger in his chest was sapping what little strength he had left. He wanted to sit down, but that wouldn’t do any good. He couldn’t sit while Jac remained standing. Instead he moved further away from the door, finally leaning against the wall to alleviate the strain, arms angrily crossed.
He didn’t fucking need this right now. He tried to look up, but it was as though he couldn’t physically bring himself to look at her for more than a few seconds.
Argh! Silas let out a frustrated groan, lowering his head and raking his nailless hands up through his hair. Bringing her here had been a stupid, horrible idea, and yet he didn’t really want her to go either. Fuck!
He thought he’d be able to keep a cool head about this - God knew he’d played the scenario over in his head so many times - but now that they were here it was hard to keep anything straight any more.
There was only one thing he really wanted to know. One question he really wanted to ask. Silas forced himself to take a deep breath before looking up again. “Why?” he demanded, his voice strained from exhaustion as well as the jumbled mess going on in his own head. Just, why? | [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jan 17, 2011 21:20:07 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]He seemed almost as frustrated as her, albeit much more angry about it. His hair was in disarray as his hands pushed through it, and the darkened ends of his fingers made her cringe inwardly. Oh Merlin, did she even want to know what had happened to him? She could hardly miss how he favoured one leg, and it frightened her that after all this time, he still was not fully healed.
It also didn’t escape her attention how he was hardly looking at her. She was watching his every move, desperate to see something more like the man she knew rather than this ruined mess. Although it horrified to see him so hurt, she found she couldn’t look away if she wanted to. This was her fault, she was sure if she had just left things be, he somehow wouldn’t have ended up in this situation.
It was her turn to fuss with her hair, smoothing her hair back instead of ruffling it. It made her mouth go dry seeing the healing marks on Silas’ neck. She knew all too well what had caused them. Her hand came to rest on her own neck, and she bit her lip. She took a hesitant step forward, intending to go him, but then he spoke.
Why? A question she’d asked herself a million times. She tried to think about it. Tried to say something concise and logical, but she’d been trying to work it out for weeks, and an answer was not coming to her any easier now. She just didn’t have an answer for him, nothing that would help him.
“Merlin, Silas. I... I don’t know!” |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Jan 17, 2011 21:25:13 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] She didn’t know.
She didn’t KNOW!?
Silas was hit by such an unexpected wave of anger he slammed a fist into the wall behind him.
“You don’t KNOW?” he seethed back incredulously.
He’d been toyed with. Used. And after all this? After everything she’d done to him? And she didn’t KNOW? Shits and giggles... was that all this was to her?
That feeling that he’d been wrestling with? He had a name for it now. Betrayal. “I TRUSTED YOU!” he roared, the words having exploded out before he could even take stock of them.
He had to make her understand - needed her to understand - but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t find any possible words to convey the emotional weight that was threatening to rip him apart. She was the only person he had ever trusted, or could ever trust again, and THIS was what she’d done with it?
But why would she care? She hadn’t cared then. She wasn’t about to care now. He was starting to realise: even his trust had been a lie.
Silas made a pent-up noise from deep in his throat as though trying to roar out his frustration, clawing at his face with his hands again.
Fuck.
How could ONE person cause so much damage? | [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Jan 17, 2011 21:25:38 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Jac flinched, biting back a yelp as his fist slammed into the wall. She felt lucky that he didn’t have a wand, and he was only able to lash out as far as his arm’s reach. Nevertheless, she retreated until the back of her thighs touched the bed frame, his words hurt her more than any fist. “I’m so sorry! Merlin, please, Silas! Just... Please, stop. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll go. I just... I don’t know what to do!” Her voice was becoming more shrill, and she found as she was incapable of finding a solid response from the whirling turmoil in her mind, she just let partly-formed thoughts tumble out in half-sentences.
This was so impossible, seeing Silas so... distraught! She simultaneously wanted to go to him, comfort him, or run and pretend she had never seen this weakest part of him. She tried to meet his eyes, but he just lent back against the wall, looking resolutely at the corner of the room. She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with her fingers. “I just... You were drifting away! I thought maybe just a little bit, and you’d come back...” Her breathing was coming irregularly as she fought to stop sobs from stealing her words. It didn’t help that she had no idea what she was trying to say either, “I didn’t mean to keep... to keep going. I just... I thought...” She looked at him hopelessly, wishing he could somehow find an answer when she couldn’t.
His silence was more unnerving than his outburst. She wanted a reply. Anything that let her know he was still himself in there. Oh Merlin, what had she done to him? What had happened to him?
Jac took an unsteady breath, “I though you’d gone. I thought you’d found out. I thought you’d tell... I didn’t know you’d... I found your wand in the garden. I didn’t know you were in... Shit, Silas, I didn’t KNOW! I was scared! I was so fucking scared. The owl, and your wand... I couldn’t just go to the Ministry... They’d know about... They’d find out. Fuck, I couldn’t... I can’t go to Azkaban! Dementors...” She shuddered. Tears fell freely now, and her voice was so strained by the lump in her throat that she could barely breathe properly let alone talk. The panic was so raw in her eyes. There was so much to lose, and she could lose it all. Her job, her freedom, her life... Silas.
“Please Silas, I want to fix this...” But where did she start? He’d shut down. He hardly looked like he was registering her words. There was a gap between them that was bigger than the width of this room. A gaping chasm had pushed them apart. Where she used to be so sure around him, now she was treading on eggshells. She was so scared of making this worse that she was hesitant about how to make it better.
He was obviously in pain, physical and emotional. But if he had invited her here, he must have had a reason. He hadn’t turned her in to the guards the moment he stepped through the door, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t do it at all. He’d said he had trusted her, so at some point it would heave meant something to him to have her there. But now...
She drew in a deep breath and willed her hands to stop trembling. Maybe this wasn’t all about her. Maybe that was the premise for inviting her, but nobody could disappear for weeks, return looking like he did and not be affected by it. Whatever she had done to him, could this have been worse? She wished for a fleeting moment that she had a vial of the potion with her. At least then he would not need to be worrying about her, and she could help him with the other things that he must be facing.
But that sort of thinking had gotten her into this disaster to begin with. She couldn’t fix everything with magic. The fact that she was capable of it at all shone a light on a cold truth that said more about her than she was able to admit.
She wanted to believe she hadn’t needed the potion in the beginning, since thinking that she had needed it just to get his attention was frankly a blow to her self esteem that she couldn’t take. The simple fact that she’d needed magic to form a relationship that had made them both happy made her wonder if that was the only way she’d ever manage it.
But she at least had to try and help him, whether it was to deal with her betrayal or what had happened to him since. She’d do anything not to think about what she had done, if only they could just put it behind them, but she didn’t have that luxury. This was no fairytale romance where love conquered all. This was real life, and breaking his trust was not something either of them could forget easily, if ever.
Jac straighted and set her purse on the bed. Approaching carefully, she was glad that at least he didn’t move away. Seeing his pain in detail did nothing to help her worry for him, and the discolouration on his hands and face was so much more real up close. And those were just the parts she could see. How much did the clothes hide? Merlin, was there any part of him that wasn’t battered or bruised, cut or burnt? She reached out gingerly, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder. “Silas? Talk to me.” |
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 8, 2011 13:56:33 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] ‘She thought.’ ‘She didn’t mean.’ ‘She wanted.’ All useless excuses. Pointless words that didn’t explain or fix anything.
He couldn’t look at her any more. How could he? It just seemed to make him angrier. Silas grit his teeth and forced his gaze to the floor again, lest he end up knocking a fist shaped hole in the wall. As much as he wanted to understand, Jac’s babbled, pleading explanations weren’t helping.
It wasn’t until she started to move towards him that Silas reacted at all. His head jerked only a centimeter or two in her direction, but his eyes were now focused like he was watching an approaching snake.
Fuck it all. She shouldn’t be here. Yet he didn’t want her to go either.
She wanted to fix this? Well that was going to be easier said than done.
He was looking at her properly for the first time now. He could tell she was upset - as if that wasn’t obvious - but it was more than that. This wasn’t a recent thing: she’d been upset for a very long time. He’d known her long enough to tell.
Jac only let herself slip in her weakest moments, and her usually flawless hair was just that much out of place. A hint of dark circles were visible through the foundation under her eyes and there were signs of creases in her normally clean pressed clothing. When they’d last seen each other she’d been nothing short of perfect, and he knew that for a fact because no matter how much he’d tried to forget it, the memory of their last goodbye had haunted him every night in the cave.
There was a small flutter of hope from some unknown, unwelcome recess of his mind that maybe she’d actually been worried about him... at least until the more sensible part of his brain crashed in to pessimistically point out that she’d probably just had a bigger workload in his absence.
Silas looked away when she finally drew up to him. Her tone was quieter. More pleading. Similar to the one she’d used countless times before to calm him down when he was angry. It was even starting to work until Jac tried to touch his shoulder and accidentally hit a burn. Silas immediately hissed in a breath of pain, jerking his shoulder away.
This was stupid. All of it. Ignoring her wasn’t going to solve anything.
“What do you want me to say, Jac?” he asked finally. There was a defeated note in his voice that had never been there before. What was there to say? | [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
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Post by Jacaranda Mulciber on Mar 20, 2011 12:34:49 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Jac blanched and dropped her hand to her side, something like pity shining in her tear-brightened eyes. She couldn’t even comfort him without hurting him. She whispered an apology under her breath, for all the good it would do. She thought about just leaving, since all she could do was distress him further, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. To leave him alone.
She’d been desperate for a reply, but now the subdued tone of it made her wish he hadn’t said a thing. Really, what could he say to everything she had to apologise for? Nevertheless, it was a relief to see him alive despite all his injuries. But there was something inherently different about him. Outwardly it was recognisably him, and there were still parts of the old Silas there, but it was as if someone had gutted him out and made a shell of his former self. All that was left in his battered casing was distrust and pain. It was heartbreaking.
“What happened to you?” She asked gently, expecting to be brushed off. She knew that whatever had happened to him was horrific (vampires were involved, how could it not be?) and she’d rather not hear the details of it. But Silas must have invited her here for a reason, and if it wasn’t to hear her apology, maybe he trusted her enough to talk to her.
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Post by Silas Rosier on Mar 21, 2011 6:54:10 GMT 1
[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_bg.png,true][atrb=valign,top] | [rs=2][bg=ffffff][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v321/1300666/Characters/Silas/Scripts/sigpostscript_mainbg.png][atrb=style,background-position:top;background-repeat:no-repeat;] She seemed apologetic, and although Silas wanted to believe it, the wary, conscious part of him didn’t want to accept she was being genuine. Because if she was lying... he... just... he’d been though enough already.
His expression turned stubborn at the question. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. It’s over, and I came out on top.” It was mostly correct, in a stretched-out roundabout way. She didn’t need to know the details. What could she possibly think of him if she knew the truth?
“Who’s been running Scores while I was out?” he asked, deflecting the subject with all the subtlety of a derailing train. It was a sharp change in the track of the conversation, but it was better than the subject she wanted to discuss. Not that he wanted to think that was the only reason he’d brought her here, but he needed to calm down first and Scores was the most neutral subject he could manage. | [atrb=valign,top] | [atrb=valign,bottom] | [atrb=valign,bottom] |
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