[ He buries the impulse to be reassuring—the general sort of reassuring, the kind that doesn’t fully understand why someone is hurting and just wants them to stop so everyone can move on—because he actually gives a shit. ]
That she could never love me, and that what we had wasn't real.
[ What she leaves out is just the questions Ciara asked beforehand. Where would we go? What would we do? Why would I go with you? But even if the words hurt, Athessa has carried them with her long enough that they don't constrict her throat or prick at her eyes anymore.
It's just a dull ache below where her heart bleeds now for Derrica. ]
I still don't know whether she was just lying to make me leave, or if she really felt that way.
[ He knows that isn’t his line. His line is something more like: She was probably afraid. She probably did love you. She probably wanted what was best for you.
But to the limited extent he ever gets angry, he is. Indignant, at least, on Athessa’s behalf. ]
Especially if she was trying to do it for your own good. That was not her choice to make for you. Not by making you feel unwanted or foolish.
[ Athessa chuckles, softly, appreciative of the sentiment. The smile that translates through her voice isn't for the memory she speaks of, but for Bastien. Because she's telling it to him. ]
I've found myself thinking about her a lot lately. Mostly about how I felt back then, and how I feel now. Wondering if it's always gonna hurt. [ She's been thinking about that old flame of his, too, wondering if Bastien is hurting the same as she. But she keeps that to herself. ] Not that I can remember what it's like not to.
[ The chair creaks as she sits back and rubs at her eyes. She can feel her body begging for her to just turn in already, get some rest before the new day. If she didn't have to worry about hiding the crystal, she'd happily fall asleep talking to Baz. ]
[ Maybe it’s Deimos—he doesn’t know about Derrica—or maybe it’s the wind being the same temperature and speed as it was once on a night with Ciara, maybe she passed someone who smelled the same. ]
Allowing for whatever fondness or forgetfulness that time hath bestowed?
[ Hath. Who talks like that? ]
Back then, she seemed to have everything figured out. Reckon it's just 'cos she was there longer than I ever was, but she looked out for me. Even when people treated her like shit she was kind. She had this way of making everything else seem less important just by holding your hand or touching your cheek.
[ In retrospect, Ciara was probably planning to teach Athessa how to have the same qualities. Grooming to survive a brothel outside Guild oversight. ]
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I was afraid you'd say that. Unrequited love always ends in lasting heartbreak, eh?
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I suppose.
[ Another beat. ]
I have never liked that word.
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[ But he knows that sounds cheap and quibbly, even if he doesn’t mean it that way. ]
Do you want to tell me about it? You don’t have to.
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Did I ever tell you about Ciara?
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You said... thirteen years ago. Brothel. She knew you as Tessa. You left—for Rivain, I assume?—but aside from that she might remember you fondly.
That is all you told me. Was there more?
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I asked her to come with me, back then. Begged her. She was the one who picked up the pieces and put me back together after... what happened.
[ With Devigny, she means. Bastien's mind being what it is, she trusts that he knows where these puzzle pieces go. ]
I loved her. And thought she loved me.
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When you asked her to go, what did she say?
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[ What she leaves out is just the questions Ciara asked beforehand. Where would we go? What would we do? Why would I go with you? But even if the words hurt, Athessa has carried them with her long enough that they don't constrict her throat or prick at her eyes anymore.
It's just a dull ache below where her heart bleeds now for Derrica. ]
I still don't know whether she was just lying to make me leave, or if she really felt that way.
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[ He knows that isn’t his line. His line is something more like: She was probably afraid. She probably did love you. She probably wanted what was best for you.
But to the limited extent he ever gets angry, he is. Indignant, at least, on Athessa’s behalf. ]
Especially if she was trying to do it for your own good. That was not her choice to make for you. Not by making you feel unwanted or foolish.
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I've found myself thinking about her a lot lately. Mostly about how I felt back then, and how I feel now. Wondering if it's always gonna hurt. [ She's been thinking about that old flame of his, too, wondering if Bastien is hurting the same as she. But she keeps that to herself. ] Not that I can remember what it's like not to.
[ The chair creaks as she sits back and rubs at her eyes. She can feel her body begging for her to just turn in already, get some rest before the new day. If she didn't have to worry about hiding the crystal, she'd happily fall asleep talking to Baz. ]
I dunno why I'm thinking about this now, either.
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[ Maybe it’s Deimos—he doesn’t know about Derrica—or maybe it’s the wind being the same temperature and speed as it was once on a night with Ciara, maybe she passed someone who smelled the same. ]
What was she like?
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[ Hath. Who talks like that? ]
Back then, she seemed to have everything figured out. Reckon it's just 'cos she was there longer than I ever was, but she looked out for me. Even when people treated her like shit she was kind. She had this way of making everything else seem less important just by holding your hand or touching your cheek.
[ In retrospect, Ciara was probably planning to teach Athessa how to have the same qualities. Grooming to survive a brothel outside Guild oversight. ]