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Post by Jules on Jan 17, 2009 0:48:27 GMT -5
It wasn't anger that made her breath shallow and her glow fade. It wasn't a sense of betrayal that made it hard to keep her eyes dry. They were present, of course. How could they not be? But it was fear that was dominant. This was one of two things in her mind: either Armand had gone to see Iseabail and was hiding it because he was doing something he wasn't proud of, or his visit to Iseabail was perfectly innocent and he hadn't thought her capable of understanding.
Either way, her bag was packed.
Well, almost. Zizzy was having a really hard time fitting all her new things into her bag, and she wasn't exactly the most motivated. The bag sat open on their bed and she was staring at its over-stuffed mouth. Problems ran through her head like bullets. Where was she going to go? Back to the Rosedale? How was she going to handle the baby on her own? How was she going to survive on her own?
This was a first so far as she knew. They'd had fights in the past, but it usually wasn't directly Armand's fault. Sometimes they were both to blame, sometimes Iker was to blame and most times it was just her. But this was all him, he'd promised. She felt sick, she had to sit down. Zizzy left her bag that looked like it was bursting at the seams and spitting up maternity wear like the clothing didn't agree with it's stomach on the bed.
She sat on the piano bench and flipped over the top to reveal the smiling ivories. Zizzy remembered the first time she'd told him she loved him, she remembered when Iker had screwed them both over, she remembered taking him to her glade, she remembered him singing to her while her insides clawed themselves apart during her withdrawal, she remembered the first time they'd met, kissed, made love. She remembered being sure that it was going to be forever. They'd been through so much together that it was impossible to picture her life without Armand. Maybe that was why it was so hard to pack. She pressed down on a key, just noise under her clumsy and untrained fingers, and started to cry.
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 0:00:14 GMT -5
Armand's thoughts were still atumble from the unexpected visit with Iseabail. It had started like he'd thought it might, and then had turned, taking an ugly route he hadn't thought possible between them. Of course, he realized he should have been prepared for such an assault --he deserved it-- it just usually wasn't Iseabail's style.
And so, such was the preoccupation of his thoughts, he'd almost forgotten about Zizzy and how he was ever going to tell her he'd gone back on his word-- and he did plan to tell her, perhaps not immediately, because like any coward, it took time to build up the courage to confess, but he knew he couldn't keep something like this from her for very long.
When he walked through the door, it took him a moment to process the suitcase, laying half-packed on the bed, and Zizzy, crying at the piano. His first instinct spurred him to her side at almost a run, but realization halted him halfway to reaching her, for there was only one thing... of course, of course she must know... but how did she know, though, when he himself was still processing the aftermath of the encounter?
He held his breath, not knowing if she realized he'd entered the room-- or what to say, if she did.
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 0:08:27 GMT -5
"The carriage you took there came back because one of the horses went lame." She said coldly, cutting off her tears as though they hadn't ever existed. She didn't want to turn around and face him, worried she'd see signs of infidelity on him, the cliche lipstick on the collar. She didn't want him to come close, lest she smell perfume.
"Did you have fun? I hope it was worth it."
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 0:19:53 GMT -5
If he'd been hoping to regain breath and oxygen in his system, he was disappointed-- the sheer coldness in her voice alone would have stilled the breath in his lungs.
No, he hadn't had fun. And the value of the visit would be proved by the consequence he was about to receive. "Are you leaving?" he finally got out-- keeping his voice for the most part flat, but there was a slight strain of panic to the question.
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 0:24:24 GMT -5
Her eyes flicked to her unsuccessfully packed bag and her breathing hitched. It was such a direct question and one she hadn't answered herself yet, "I don't know." Some feeling crept back into her tone and she hunched her shoulders.
"I wouldn't want to stand in the way of anything." And the ice returned and she felt almost grateful for it. It was an exertion of will she didn't know she had to not even look at him. But she knew if she did she'd end up forgiving him everything and anything just so things didn't have to change.
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 0:41:31 GMT -5
He wished she would at least look at him. She was keeping a sturdy wall between them, and it hurt to see her deliberately want to keep him away.
Still, that 'I don't know' gave him a handle to hold on to.
"Zizzy, wait," he said, voice soft, "At least let me explain why I went."
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 0:47:42 GMT -5
"Fine." She spat. Zizzy trusted him, if he'd thought the promise she'd asked of him had been because of a trust issue on his part, he was mistaken. She knew, at least, that he wouldn't lie to her directly.
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 1:07:40 GMT -5
He hid his wince, feeling almost masochistic willingly offering up the information, but after a somewhat taut sigh (the motion of breathing was still coming in stilted, forced motions), he continued:
"Iseabail sent me a letter saying she wanted to talk before her concert. I assumed it was just for some type of closure, and it was. She basically laid into me for half an hour and then I left."
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 1:20:47 GMT -5
"Why did you go?" She hated it that she was less angry almost immediately. "You can't keep doing this to me. I know you're still in love with her, but I'm here, you picked me, stop waffling." She sighed and swiveled to sit sideways on the bench, tucking her knees under her chin. "I'm here and you can't seem to realize that. Just let her go."
She sighed and shrugged, "And I've had enough, if you can't, I can't stay."
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 1:31:00 GMT -5
His face hardened. He felt a touch of anger, but he knew his temper wasn't flaming solely because he was mad, but because he was terrified Zizzy would really leave.
"I didn't go because I'm.... waffling," he said bitterly, "You're right, I did choose you, and I... you didn't see her after-- she was broken, and if she needs to yell at me for thirty minutes to be happy again, then it's the least I can do for her."
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 1:46:42 GMT -5
"So hurting me is just fine as long as she's okay." Finally, Zizzy stood up and lurched towards her bag, desperately trying to fit everything in. It wasn't working and she was feeling more and more flushed. In utter frustration she chucked the bag to the floor and kicked it clean across the room, clothing erupting from it like blood and guts.
"You promised."
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 18, 2009 2:01:20 GMT -5
"I know," he whispered, watching as her clothes scattered across the floor. "I know, I broke your trust, and I'm sorry, but I can't.... I can't understand why you don't trust me." He exhaled roughly, closed his eyes, counted to two. "There isn't a choice, to me, between the two of you; she is not your competition because there is no contest. I know you know that I love you, and that I'm sincere when I say I want to be with you, but what you never see is that I don't want Iseabail. Even if you leave me I wouldn't be with her."
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Post by Jules on Jan 18, 2009 20:57:57 GMT -5
Zizzy picked up a shirt that had landed by her feet and folded it, unfolded, folded it again, etc. She focused on her movements concerning the shirt rather than him. "I just don't see why, and it makes me nervous."
It had never made sense for Armand to love her. "I mean, listen. There's this scrawny nobody from some forgettable slum apartment without a qualification to her name and the Crown Prince of fucking Morpheus falls in love with her and takes her away to live in his castle..." She laughed a little, "It's like this huge fairytale and they miscast me. I feel like you're going to wake up one day and realize what a mistake you've made."
All throughout her chatter, Zizzy had been unfolding and folding that shirt, now she just hugged it to her chest like a security blanket.
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Post by Miss Jack on Jan 19, 2009 20:43:59 GMT -5
He shook his head. "Why is it so unbelievable to you?"
It felt like just a big of miracle to him to have her in his life, but that was love, wasn't it? Anyone was lucky to have it. He couldn't tell if she thought she didn't deserve it, or their differences in social status were just too large to be realistic.
"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Zizzy, and to imply I would ever think of you as a mistake is..." He sighed. Insulting? Irritating? Absolutely absurd?
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Post by Jules on Jan 19, 2009 21:46:56 GMT -5
"Because I'm nothing. I'm not talking about class, I just mean, before you I was selfish and lazy, I'm not smart, I'm not talented at anything, I can't even make up for it with looks. I'm just plain not good enough. And I know you're not perfect, but you have value and I just...don't, and I was fine with that before I met you." She sighed and put down the shirt finally, picking up another article of clothing and folding that before....she didn't know.
To put it back in the drawer, or in her bag? Was she staying or leaving? "Best thing that ever happened to you, huh?" She asked of the folded cloth in her hands. "You must have led a pretty depressing life." Zizzy, however, moved to the dresser and put the pants away.
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