[It's apparent that this is far more emotional for him, far easier for him to give into, than it is for her. The "this is a bad idea" signals are screaming in her mind, but she leans into his hand, breathing a sigh. There's some part of her that accepts his touch, drinking it up and feeling as if it's meant to be there. The two of them had been familiar with each other's bodies for so long that he knows precisely where to touch, but there's something different about this.
The different part is the problem.
There had never been anything desperate and longing, and while there's a piece of it on her end, it's not the same.
Still, she extends her legs forward, drawing him closer against her, and she wraps them tight around him, pressing up against him. She carefully turns her face into his hair, lips brushing over his ear, and she has to say it, she has to ask:] It'll be just this once. [Her breath is warm on his ear, and she knows it won't help, but she presses on.] Will you be able to live with that?
[No, it doesn't help anything to have her there, where he can be acutely aware of her body and how badly he's missed this. And it's true, that he wants it badly. But not- not just this. It's not just about sex, anymore. It can't be. Thinking that it could be would be another error in judgment, because there's no going back.
She accused him of being locked inside his head. The least he could do is try to think outside of it, for once.]
...no.
[He lets go, and oh-so-carefully starts to extract himself from her grasp, before he can rethink this decision. It's not impulsive. (At least, he'd like to think it's not.) He wants her to believe that he took her words to heart, as he thinks he did, and came to some solid conclusions. It's hard. Maybe that's how you know you're doing the right thing.
But if he's going to do it, he can't flinch. He has to look her right in the eye and say it.]
Kate. I miss you. I think about that every day. I would do anything to fix what I did or find a way to make it up to you, but I have no expectations that you'll forgive me. I can't take it back, and we can't go back. So I've done what I could. I appreciate that you never asked me to leave the team. Everything I offered before, anything I can do to help, is still at your disposal. I've tried not to seek you out and I've tried to let you start the conversations. If I couldn't make it better, I could at least not make it worse.
I want to say yes. But it's not what I really want. I can't be that for you any more. You know that. You are the sensible one.
[It feels odd, to sound so calm saying this, in the dead silence of his room. If this were a movie, surely his voice would crack; surely there would be sad music, somewhere.]
I want you to come back. I want to try again to do it right. You don't want that. So this will only make it worse. You'll regret it, and you will feel guilty, and I'll keep hoping you'll come back and do it again. We can't do that.
[A final piece of punctuation: he picks up his shirt from the floor.]
You should go.
[Before he finds a way to change his mind and do a selfish and impulsive thing and can have any reason to reconsider or flake on an actual moment of character development.]
[It's the "you would feel guilty" that makes her grab her shirt, the cloth bunched up in her hand instinctively to express her irritation with his assumption. Kate knows that he means well, but guilt isn't a factor in this. She had a feeling that he required more, that he wanted more, but it's not guilt. It's not feeling the same way that she did before. After all, while Kate still wants this, wants him, the emotions aren't as overwhelming and leading her adrift as they had when they were together.
It never bothered her before that they hadn't spoken about things. It hadn't really mattered. They were so caught up in the moment, so caught up in each other, that they couldn't hit pause and realize what was happening.
Kate hadn't had a whole lot of opportunities to think about Noh-Varr since she left for Los Angeles and ended up here, as well. He'd come up from time to time, but she had been so involved in other things that she had detached from that previous thinking.
Maybe she'd feel guilty for moving on, for being distanced from what they had, but she doesn't know that she would. Maybe she would feel guilty for enjoying herself with him, but never being able to be caught up the way she had, the way he already was again—that's more likely. But nothing's certain.]
There's no fixing it. [She needs that to be clear. After a beat, she pulls on her shirt, standing up and running a hand through her hair.] If you want to offer your help, do it because you're a member of the team. [Her team. Where she's a leader.] And don't tip-toe around me. [Him butting in on her conversations has always been irritating in some way, but it's not like it's a ... new thing from him.]
[Another misstep, and just like the last time, it's too late to take it back. It's never been difficult, before her, and now it's become that and he doesn't really know what to do. He regrets the decision already, but at least this time, he's wise enough to know he can't take it back, or ask for a do-over.
He can't change his mind, with Kate. There's no fixing this, either.]
I'll try to remember that.
little did she know that "don't tiptoe around me" would mean "sure I'll be an ass"
[After a moment, she pulls on her shirt, the cloth clinging to her body as she stands up from his bed. This was a mistake, she knows that now, and she's honestly glad that they didn't sleep together.
She doesn't need to make it worse.]
Good-bye, Noh-Varr.
[Unlike their way in, she doesn't make a point of being quiet as she leaves his room to head out. They weren't in there long enough even for a quickie, so what does it matter?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
selfequipped) wrote2014-02-10 02:43 pm
no subject
The different part is the problem.
There had never been anything desperate and longing, and while there's a piece of it on her end, it's not the same.
Still, she extends her legs forward, drawing him closer against her, and she wraps them tight around him, pressing up against him. She carefully turns her face into his hair, lips brushing over his ear, and she has to say it, she has to ask:] It'll be just this once. [Her breath is warm on his ear, and she knows it won't help, but she presses on.] Will you be able to live with that?
no subject
She accused him of being locked inside his head. The least he could do is try to think outside of it, for once.]
...no.
[He lets go, and oh-so-carefully starts to extract himself from her grasp, before he can rethink this decision. It's not impulsive. (At least, he'd like to think it's not.) He wants her to believe that he took her words to heart, as he thinks he did, and came to some solid conclusions. It's hard. Maybe that's how you know you're doing the right thing.
But if he's going to do it, he can't flinch. He has to look her right in the eye and say it.]
Kate. I miss you. I think about that every day. I would do anything to fix what I did or find a way to make it up to you, but I have no expectations that you'll forgive me. I can't take it back, and we can't go back. So I've done what I could. I appreciate that you never asked me to leave the team. Everything I offered before, anything I can do to help, is still at your disposal. I've tried not to seek you out and I've tried to let you start the conversations. If I couldn't make it better, I could at least not make it worse.
I want to say yes. But it's not what I really want. I can't be that for you any more. You know that. You are the sensible one.
[It feels odd, to sound so calm saying this, in the dead silence of his room. If this were a movie, surely his voice would crack; surely there would be sad music, somewhere.]
I want you to come back. I want to try again to do it right. You don't want that. So this will only make it worse. You'll regret it, and you will feel guilty, and I'll keep hoping you'll come back and do it again. We can't do that.
[A final piece of punctuation: he picks up his shirt from the floor.]
You should go.
[Before he finds a way to change his mind and do a selfish and impulsive thing and can have any reason to reconsider or flake on an actual moment of character development.]
no subject
It never bothered her before that they hadn't spoken about things. It hadn't really mattered. They were so caught up in the moment, so caught up in each other, that they couldn't hit pause and realize what was happening.
Kate hadn't had a whole lot of opportunities to think about Noh-Varr since she left for Los Angeles and ended up here, as well. He'd come up from time to time, but she had been so involved in other things that she had detached from that previous thinking.
Maybe she'd feel guilty for moving on, for being distanced from what they had, but she doesn't know that she would. Maybe she would feel guilty for enjoying herself with him, but never being able to be caught up the way she had, the way he already was again—that's more likely. But nothing's certain.]
There's no fixing it. [She needs that to be clear. After a beat, she pulls on her shirt, standing up and running a hand through her hair.] If you want to offer your help, do it because you're a member of the team. [Her team. Where she's a leader.] And don't tip-toe around me. [Him butting in on her conversations has always been irritating in some way, but it's not like it's a ... new thing from him.]
no subject
He can't change his mind, with Kate. There's no fixing this, either.]
I'll try to remember that.
little did she know that "don't tiptoe around me" would mean "sure I'll be an ass"
She doesn't need to make it worse.]
Good-bye, Noh-Varr.
[Unlike their way in, she doesn't make a point of being quiet as she leaves his room to head out. They weren't in there long enough even for a quickie, so what does it matter?]