multiversallogs | I'd left him dreaming [closed]

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I'd left him dreaming [closed]

Who: Ivan and Ilde
What: He's making a habit of turning up on doorsteps.
Where: Villa Roassieux
When: Shortly after receiving this text
Notes: It's just a one-night stand. That kept happening. Exclusively. And then he took care of her dog. ...you are no longer fooling anyone, guys.
Warnings: None yet, but give it time.

Ivan is not going to dignify that text with a reply. Instead he turns up, very shortly afterward, on her doorstep, expression closed.

At least he brought her purse with him.

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They didn't do the trick last time, either, but motion makes him feel better. He's spent a long time watching things fall apart, but he's seldom tried to put any of them back together.

"You don't owe me an explanation of anything. Just as long as you know you can ask. If you want."

"I have to talk to you about something," she says, eventually, folding her arms on his chest and resting her chin there, "but not yet." It's not exactly on-topic, but it's not exactly off-topic, either.

He's cautious, at that, though not disengaging. "When you're ready, then." He's not sure what it can be.

"I was going to bring it up before I left, but..." Before she'd left it had been a vaguer thing; there are possibilities in front of her that weren't there before, and priorities that are rearranging themselves. It's a little more relevant than theoretical maybe-some-days, now, and she's not sure how that's going to go down.

(With anyone, actually, and she's still thinking about what Remy said and what it might mean. Where it might fit with her existing theories about what Baedal needs.)

"A lot's changed in a short time," he points out. "Time enough to pick back up."

"I think that's just how things happen. Generally." ...changing abruptly in a short space of time; aside from Ivan, it's a fair point that most of Ilde's life has been that way the past year. She's only had a life of her own to speak of, as she sees it, for this past year. She feels as if she's been running quickly along unsteady, uneven ground and the momentary slowness isn't familiar and doesn't fit. Isn't something that she knows precisely what to do with when it's been so much easier to keep going. You can't fall down if you don't stop.

"I don't know. Sometimes." Ivan, on the other hand, has more experience with slow, gradual shifts (with some major exceptions). He supposes it's somewhat a matter of perspective, either way.

"It's a lot to hold up under." For her, he means.

It's not being alone, it's holding down the fort; that's what Remy told her and that's what she's hanging onto, at least for now. It's barely been two days, and she needs to just...breathe, for a while. And she should let herself, she decides. There are all these people in her life here who are ready and willing to pick up the slack and she should let them because she's exhausted and she doesn't know what else she'd do, anyway. Her restless urgency has no direction.

"I'm okay," she says, resting her cheek against her arm.

"I'm glad." It was complicated, and he couldn't help suspecting it would be messy, but he liked her here, curled up against him. It was something he hadn't had in a long time - the easiness of the way they were together.

"Why did you punch Mitchell in the face?"

...there's an abrupt subject change for you. In fairness, Ilde is probably right that there's likely going to be no better time than now to actually get an answer to that question, but it's still a little out of the blue.

He goes quiet at that. It's long enough it seems, at first, like he might not answer.

"He made a confession he probably shouldn't have, while he was drugged. I took it poorly." He considers leaving it there, but then he adds quieter, "He shagged Daisy, back home. I'd been dead, but not long."

So. That explains that, and-- that sounds messy as hell. On any other day, her reaction here would be very different; their relationship is on uneasy ground already, and Ivan getting into a fight over the wife he assured her he doesn't still consider himself married to wouldn't help, but today there is so much else going on and he's just spent the past hour needing her and wanting her and she just splays her fingers, rests her cheek there, and says, "Okay."

"It shouldn't matter," he says, closing his eyes against her touch. "It doesn't, really, I just overreacted." It was a complicated mess, and he didn't want to think about it.

"Well, he's not sleeping with me," she murmurs -- though on that note, she has every intention of telling Hasi what she's just unsubtly finessed out of him.

"I'd do more than punch him once," he says, frankly.

"No hitting," she contradicts him promptly - though presumably she means generally, since the likelihood of her and Mitchell sleeping together is slim to none. "It bothers Hasi."

"I didn't break anything," he says, automatically. "Am I allowed to hit people that Hasi isn't shagging?"

"Yes." ...Ilde is well aware he kills in Baedal, and that's never been a problem; her morality is selective at best, and has a good deal more to do with 'not bothering her' than actual morals. (It's probably why she's suited to following Sonja around, whose goals coincide with morally right as a genuinely coincidental bonus.)

"I think I can live with that." He shouldn't have hit Mitchell the first time, in any case. It did no good, and it didn't make him feel better

"So to speak." Because the evening wouldn't be complete without a hint of inappropriate gallows humour about death, surely. Ilde watches him for a few moments, still and dark-eyed, and finally settles on saying, "Thank you. For coming over."

He smiles a little at the joke, then says, "You're welcome. Though it was at least partly selfish." He'd wanted to see her, regardless of whether or not she was quite ready; it was just luck that she was.

"Everything you do is partly selfish." Most things Ilde does are, too, one way or another; they're just complementary that way, dovetailing neatly when they aren't getting fussy with each other about what they do and do not discuss.

"Well yes, but it makes it hard for me to make grand romantic gestures when you see that so clearly." At least she doesn't seem to mind.

Ilde lifts herself up far enough to rest her weight (on him) on her elbows to better give him a mildly skeptical look. "What grand romantic gestures are you ever going to make?"

"I could think of something," he says, half laughing. "If you wanted me to."

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rhinemaid - 2012-01-13 05:39 (UTC) - Expand

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deservesadaisy - 2012-01-13 05:41 (UTC) - Expand

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