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darker_london2014-07-27 10:57 am
lightningseed.insanejournal.com) wrote in darker_london2014-07-27 10:57 am
This bit of earth mightn’t be so bitter after all (Zoe, Cai)
On Zoe's way home from Rachel's depressing flat, her phone beeped loudly to tell her someone had made a new post. She'd set it up so she wouldn't miss anything. She was glad she had.
She rang Cai. "Look Zo, don't worry. I'm fine," he lied. "Everything's fine."
"Right," said Zoe. "See you soon."
"No - Zoe - It's fine."
Nonnie let Zoe in, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. “Any news of our Danny?” she asked, and Zoe could only shake her head. Nonnie closed her eyes, genuine sorrow pouring out of her. Zoe couldn’t deal with that, she excused herself quickly and hurried through the house to the back at what she hoped was a dignified pace.
The air smelled like wood shavings and closed-in boy, the chemical smell of body spray that was half revolting, half addictive. Zoe found herself breathing through her nose anyway; the smell was concentrated Cai, and there was some unfamiliar comfort in that. He looked up at her from his workbench and frowned, though he was more surprised than unhappy to see her. “I said you didn’t need to come,” he told her.
Zoe shrugged. “Yeah,” she said. “And that set off my bullshit detector loud as anything. You seemed like you were losing it.”
“Losing what?” Cai looked down at the mess in his hands. He’d been taking out his frustration on quality wood, just tearing through it with one of his wood cutting tools. The long thick curls of shavings as they peeled out of the wood had almost been satisfying, but at the same time they made him feel useless. He couldn’t help Danny. He couldn’t help Dom. There was no superhero in him, no miracle.
“I don’t know, it. Your Cai-ness.” Zoe frowned, trailing her hand along the work bench, picking up shavings.
Cai shrugged and dug his blade deep into the wood. It was bad for it; the blade was too thin for this kind of wood and this kind of force and he was blunting it, warping it out of shape. It had not been a cheap blade either and he felt bad about ruining it but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
“Can you let me try something?” Zoe asked, coming round the corner of the bench so she stood in front of him.
“What?” He asked, putting the blade down, because as miserably useless as you felt you didn’t wield dangerous tools around other people.
Zoe took a deep breath and instead of explaining anything she reached for his hands. He jerked backwards – he wasn’t wearing his gloves. “No,” said Zoe gently. “It’s okay, I know what I’m doing.”
Cai’s face was still crushed by this frown, but he held out his hands, and turned his face away. He put Zoe in mind of last time she’d gone in to get a shot, offering her shoulder but turning away, like not looking would make it hurt less. But she wasn’t here to hurt him. She hoped she wasn’t going to hurt him anyway…
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice as gentle as she could make it. “It’s alright,” she said, as she took his hands in hers, wrapped them up in hers, held them safe in hers. She closed her eyes too, and breathed the way she’d practiced breathing.
She pictured the garden he’d taken her to, the garden and the market at the Heart of the Cross, where the Templar had destroyed so much of the city and people had poured back into the ruins and built something better. She remembered vividly how dark she’d been feeling that day and how bright he was and how infectious that brightness was even if she was more immune than most to that kind of human light. She remembered what he’d said not everything’s dire, all the time and how she’d thought it was a stupid thing to say at the time, but how she kept remembering him saying it. Over the past couple of weeks, as Zoe worried about Rachel and worried about Danny and worried about Cai, she kept remembering him saying not everything’s dire all the time and somehow that helped.
Somehow, he had helped.
He opened his eyes and they were full of tears, but even more surprising was seeing that Zoe eyes weren’t dry either. “I just wanted to remind you there’s still goodness,” she said, in a little voice, a little young voice.
Cai shook his head like he couldn’t believe himself, couldn’t believe her, couldn’t believe the situation they found themselves in. He felt the creeping sickness - the disorientation - from the vision but his heart swelled with the memory, and it drew him in toward her, but she was the one who closed the last of the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.
He parted his mouth, and kissed her bottom lip as he lifted his hands to her face. Her cheeks were wet under his thumbs, but he thought that was more his fault than hers… and he couldn’t taste tears on his mouth, so that was alright… Zoe pressed herself closer, thinking fiercely of strawberry smoothies and sunlight and a garden in the middle of a ruined city, and the memory of trying to look at the world through his eyes, and how soothing it had been, how strange, how hopeful. She wanted to give that back to him – she wanted to give himself back to him, because it scared her to think he was losing it. She wanted to take him back to how he was before. She lay her hands against his chest like she’d done the day Danny was taken, but this time her fingers were higher; this time something in her wanted to guide her fingers higher, till her hands were against the skin of his neck. She could feel his pulse there, more intimate than the heartbeat in his chest, and could feel the stubble around his jawline, and could feel under her fingers when he swallowed.
Zoe disentangled herself before she could lose control, before they found themselves drawn into some other memory – or future event – that was not guaranteed to be as nice. She thought it could be very easy to get distracted by things like stubble and pulses and the heat of the skin on his neck, and even easier with his mouth on hers.
She hadn’t planned on kissing him when she’d come over. But she wasn’t sorry she had. “Are you okay?” she asked, and he looked at her in amazement, his thumb pressed to his lips.
Amazement and then guilt – he shouldn’t be feeling like this when Danny was missing.
“Maybe,” he said, after thinking about it for a while. He wanted to be honest, as honest as he could manage. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe’s better than no,” Zoe said, and Cai dropped his head into a nod, and agreed with her, it was definitely that.
---
Later when Zoe was back at home, something finally snapped inside her and she started to cry. Ten days since Danny had been kidnapped, and she was drowning under the weight of having enough hope for three people. She - Zoe Kemp - had to be the hopeful one. It wasn't right. She couldn't do it.
She pressed her fingers against his mouth where he'd kissed her, and cried even harder. As silent as she could make herself, so that her family wouldn't hear her.
She rang Cai. "Look Zo, don't worry. I'm fine," he lied. "Everything's fine."
"Right," said Zoe. "See you soon."
"No - Zoe - It's fine."
Nonnie let Zoe in, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. “Any news of our Danny?” she asked, and Zoe could only shake her head. Nonnie closed her eyes, genuine sorrow pouring out of her. Zoe couldn’t deal with that, she excused herself quickly and hurried through the house to the back at what she hoped was a dignified pace.
The air smelled like wood shavings and closed-in boy, the chemical smell of body spray that was half revolting, half addictive. Zoe found herself breathing through her nose anyway; the smell was concentrated Cai, and there was some unfamiliar comfort in that. He looked up at her from his workbench and frowned, though he was more surprised than unhappy to see her. “I said you didn’t need to come,” he told her.
Zoe shrugged. “Yeah,” she said. “And that set off my bullshit detector loud as anything. You seemed like you were losing it.”
“Losing what?” Cai looked down at the mess in his hands. He’d been taking out his frustration on quality wood, just tearing through it with one of his wood cutting tools. The long thick curls of shavings as they peeled out of the wood had almost been satisfying, but at the same time they made him feel useless. He couldn’t help Danny. He couldn’t help Dom. There was no superhero in him, no miracle.
“I don’t know, it. Your Cai-ness.” Zoe frowned, trailing her hand along the work bench, picking up shavings.
Cai shrugged and dug his blade deep into the wood. It was bad for it; the blade was too thin for this kind of wood and this kind of force and he was blunting it, warping it out of shape. It had not been a cheap blade either and he felt bad about ruining it but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
“Can you let me try something?” Zoe asked, coming round the corner of the bench so she stood in front of him.
“What?” He asked, putting the blade down, because as miserably useless as you felt you didn’t wield dangerous tools around other people.
Zoe took a deep breath and instead of explaining anything she reached for his hands. He jerked backwards – he wasn’t wearing his gloves. “No,” said Zoe gently. “It’s okay, I know what I’m doing.”
Cai’s face was still crushed by this frown, but he held out his hands, and turned his face away. He put Zoe in mind of last time she’d gone in to get a shot, offering her shoulder but turning away, like not looking would make it hurt less. But she wasn’t here to hurt him. She hoped she wasn’t going to hurt him anyway…
“It’s alright,” she said, her voice as gentle as she could make it. “It’s alright,” she said, as she took his hands in hers, wrapped them up in hers, held them safe in hers. She closed her eyes too, and breathed the way she’d practiced breathing.
She pictured the garden he’d taken her to, the garden and the market at the Heart of the Cross, where the Templar had destroyed so much of the city and people had poured back into the ruins and built something better. She remembered vividly how dark she’d been feeling that day and how bright he was and how infectious that brightness was even if she was more immune than most to that kind of human light. She remembered what he’d said not everything’s dire, all the time and how she’d thought it was a stupid thing to say at the time, but how she kept remembering him saying it. Over the past couple of weeks, as Zoe worried about Rachel and worried about Danny and worried about Cai, she kept remembering him saying not everything’s dire all the time and somehow that helped.
Somehow, he had helped.
He opened his eyes and they were full of tears, but even more surprising was seeing that Zoe eyes weren’t dry either. “I just wanted to remind you there’s still goodness,” she said, in a little voice, a little young voice.
Cai shook his head like he couldn’t believe himself, couldn’t believe her, couldn’t believe the situation they found themselves in. He felt the creeping sickness - the disorientation - from the vision but his heart swelled with the memory, and it drew him in toward her, but she was the one who closed the last of the distance between them and pressed her lips against his.
He parted his mouth, and kissed her bottom lip as he lifted his hands to her face. Her cheeks were wet under his thumbs, but he thought that was more his fault than hers… and he couldn’t taste tears on his mouth, so that was alright… Zoe pressed herself closer, thinking fiercely of strawberry smoothies and sunlight and a garden in the middle of a ruined city, and the memory of trying to look at the world through his eyes, and how soothing it had been, how strange, how hopeful. She wanted to give that back to him – she wanted to give himself back to him, because it scared her to think he was losing it. She wanted to take him back to how he was before. She lay her hands against his chest like she’d done the day Danny was taken, but this time her fingers were higher; this time something in her wanted to guide her fingers higher, till her hands were against the skin of his neck. She could feel his pulse there, more intimate than the heartbeat in his chest, and could feel the stubble around his jawline, and could feel under her fingers when he swallowed.
Zoe disentangled herself before she could lose control, before they found themselves drawn into some other memory – or future event – that was not guaranteed to be as nice. She thought it could be very easy to get distracted by things like stubble and pulses and the heat of the skin on his neck, and even easier with his mouth on hers.
She hadn’t planned on kissing him when she’d come over. But she wasn’t sorry she had. “Are you okay?” she asked, and he looked at her in amazement, his thumb pressed to his lips.
Amazement and then guilt – he shouldn’t be feeling like this when Danny was missing.
“Maybe,” he said, after thinking about it for a while. He wanted to be honest, as honest as he could manage. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe’s better than no,” Zoe said, and Cai dropped his head into a nod, and agreed with her, it was definitely that.
---
Later when Zoe was back at home, something finally snapped inside her and she started to cry. Ten days since Danny had been kidnapped, and she was drowning under the weight of having enough hope for three people. She - Zoe Kemp - had to be the hopeful one. It wasn't right. She couldn't do it.
She pressed her fingers against his mouth where he'd kissed her, and cried even harder. As silent as she could make herself, so that her family wouldn't hear her.
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