And so there she was, wrapped up warm and bundled against the cold. She tapped her feet to keep her toes from going numb, eyed watching carefully for him; she hoped that she would recognise him from the picture Gren had of him in the frame by his bed.
D. The man that Gren felt so fond of, that made him smile again, made him feel like life was worth living. Faye had always been curious about who this man was, how he had that power over Gren. Now she would find out, but without Gren to keep the warmth and conversation between them.
He would come silently to her side, the dark coat barely swaying behind him as he steps on the ground. His hair is thick, lengthy, and falls down to his mid back. He wears the pendent they all share here, acquired from Genessia, but also a blue pendent that seems to radiate with its own glow. His eyes are dark with only a sliver of blue to the iris and his skin wears the winter well in its natural paraffin reflection. D’s countenance is void of expression, his lips lax on his face and his brows are seen just beneath the heavy wide-brimmed hat that he had brought with him from his own world.
It would have been discouraged quickly and dejected to the sidewalk were Gren here to say anything about it—
but it was just the two of them. With the only real connection between them nonexistent in this world anymore. Yet, the bond to the man amiss remained an awkward and painful reminder that Gren would live on here without even his remains for Genessia to claim. Rather, between the woman and himself, (and whoever else) would keep the sentient reality of one who was and now is not.
“Faye.” He calls to her, his voice is low but strong as if near her ear. It would be all he would say outside the apartment building before he lead the woman inside. She was petit, beautiful, and warm as her human blood would allow for it. Her smell was familiar as there had been times in which the perfume of her flesh lamented her existence around Gren and his things.
Once inside the apartment D turned, once again, and looked to her. He was taller than her, he was taller than Gren, and he wondered what - if anything - did she see in himself that would remind her of him.
Faye gasped and started slightly at his appearance - perhaps that was part of the whole vampire thing, appearing without someone necessarily noticing. She was usually very observant, so was annoyed at herself that he had managed to sneak up on her like that. But since Gren went home, there were times when she would lapse into thinking about him.
"D." Was all she said in reply to his uttering of her own name. She hadn't yet figured anything more that she wanted to day to him. So she followed on in silence until they arrived in the apartment. Faye pushed down the hood of the long coat she had been wearing and took a much better look at D now. Her expression gave nothing away as she scanned him over, until finally the corners of her lips lifted slightly with a small tug, "Your kids with Gren really would have been pale and beautiful."
He wouldn't pretend to understand half the things Gren and Faye conspired to, so the comment was appropriately nonsensical. Gren said a great many things to D that were strange but adoring all the same. Perhaps this was one of those htings that Faye and Gren relished within one another. It was a nice reminder from her, for him, about him.
D's head lifts, just a bit, and with the movement he takes in another long breath. He's quiet about it, non-obtrusive, and by no means obvious - but he was smelling her. Again.
"Impossible." He lowered his head and held her eyes with his own, in the shade beneath the brim of his hat. "I'm keeping this apartment." He offered. "You are welcome to it." It was obvious whta he was offering her, he didn't think his meaning was to be misconstrued. However, he did request one thing, "I wish to sit in your presence, from time to time." Gren would have laughed, joked, or cried. This was D's way of making friends, pathetic.
"You don't say it's impossible." Faye allowed herself a few more seconds simply to stare at him. Sure, he was pretty enough to catch Gren's eye, and intense enough too. No wonder he had liked him so much. Still, she didn't sense much by the way of humour from this guy.
She frowned a little as she looked around the apartment, slowly shaking her head. "You're welcome to it yourself. I don't want it." It was too uncomfortable, too Gren. But at least she had good memories attached to this place. Faye looked back at D, wrapping her arms around herself after waving at her body, up and down. "I'm not Gren." Yeah, that was stating the obvious, but she worried about D trying to find a way to replace him. "If the stubborn bitch part is what you miss then I guess you've come to the right place." Because they sure could both be that. Even to each other.
He was confused by her response, but not at all shocked by that fact. Humans were sometimes difficult for him to converse with, to understand, to build relationships with.
Like tombstones, he thought the flat was something that she could come and mourn, speak, or feel Gren. D imagined himself to come back many nights to be in the presence of his lover. Faye evidently had her own way of coping, it wasn't his business and he wouldn't pry.
D moved from her immediate space and drew himself to the couch where he sat himself down on. He missed Gren's voice--
"Do you sing?" Maybe they shared a love for music, the two of them. It was nice, to imagine Faye and Gren singing together. Part of him hoped they did that.
Faye removed her coat, shaking off any snow or ice that might be on it, and looked for somewhere to hang it up. Now she wore a skirt with a tight black tshirt, just casual. Then she kicked off her boots and walked in her stockinged feet to sit on the other end of the couch. Apparently she was used to making herself at home in Gren's place. Faye grabbed a cushion and held it to her.
His question made her look up at him in surprise, but then she just shrugged and turned away from him. "Sure. I sing. In the shower." And around her house when she didn't think anyone was listening. She was good, she just didn't like to be heard. "Are you...musical?" Maybe that was part of Gren's draw to him too.
He shook his head, slowly, then stilled before he spoke. "I carry it inside me, but it is on others where I would hear it, it's only then that I can truly feel it inside." When Gren sung, when he played his songs, it sparked something inside of D.
He knew how to play various instruments, but he had no reason to.
He lifted his eyes, his head turned to her, and he watched her a moment. He can imagine her diaphragm loosening and tightening with each breath that carried a note, with each chorus rendered in only a voice that was possible from her. Carried well or not, the power was in the feeling of the music. D did not much like to listen to recordings of songs, but he would take what he could get, of course.
Instead, the mood of the player would be weighed with each stroke of the string, the tap of their fingers across keyboards, and the breath that carried out the sound of the song-- it would be different, always. He liked that about live performances. He liked the variations of mood between one day to the next.
"No wonder you liked Gren so much. Bet he liked having an audience." But she meant it kindly about her friend, however it might sound. "But listen. If you invited me here because you thought I would sing to you and remind you of him, that's not going to happen either." She bit her lip and looked around the room again, cuddling the cushion a little tighter. "I can't replace him." Her voice sounded thicker, and she looked pointedly away. There was no sense in her becoming so emotional over this, and she was annoyed at herself for feeling it and letting it hurt her again, the distinct absence of Gren.
"Is that what you think I want?" He asked, lightly, not expecting an answer. However, part of what she said was true. No matter what she did, she would remind D of Gren. But not because he would ask of her to do something more than come here and sit with him. He wondered if Gren ever wanted them to meet, if Faye was someone he wanted to share with D; or vice versa.
It was up to them, now, to figure out what they wanted to do moving forward. Without Gren.
D was content to make this place a sanctuary, a shrine. A world untouched by change where as everything outside the apartment would change. He may be gone tomorrow, but if he stayed he would adapt as the resilient side of him would have him do. He may meet another, he may make friends, he may create enemies, he may change jobs, where he lives, what he does, there were so many things that would inevitably change outside this apartment.
"I have no idea what you want." Maybe he wasn't expecting an answer, but that was hers anyway. "But I know that I don't have much to give you..." Faye watched him for a while, this strange and quiet man. She can't really guess how he and Gren had ended up with the bond that they had, and she can't quite imagine D as the lover that Gren claimed him to be.
She hugged her cushion closer, burying her face in it, but then it smelled too much of Gren, and with that came all kinds of feelings that she didn't want to focus on. How much harder was this for D, who knew Gren in more intimate ways?
"There is a chance he could come back. But I wouldn't live holding onto that, if your luck is anything like mine."
There wasn’t much hope in that, rare as Gren was (or so, that was how D felt about the other) it was unlikely to see the same shooting star twice in his lifetime here. For however long it might be that he remains here.
Faye was hurting in her own way, it came out with her movements, her sharp tongue, her quick words, and the way she wore her discomfort. There was nothing more he wanted than what he had asked of her. To sit here with him. Perhaps that was too unfair, but he had never mourned like this before. Wallowed and brooded, those were common descriptives that came from the parasite within him. How unfortunate, D thought, to have the only thing he could depend on was a parasite that lived in his left hand, a symbiotic creature that liked D’s torment almost as much as it liked the booze.
D’s eyes focused on his crossed fingers and fleshed palms. “This is enough.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
text.
Date: 2018-12-18 08:32 am (UTC)Text.
Date: 2018-12-18 05:09 pm (UTC)Re: Text.
Date: 2018-12-19 12:45 am (UTC)Action.
Date: 2018-12-19 03:20 pm (UTC)D. The man that Gren felt so fond of, that made him smile again, made him feel like life was worth living. Faye had always been curious about who this man was, how he had that power over Gren. Now she would find out, but without Gren to keep the warmth and conversation between them.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-19 04:28 pm (UTC)It would have been discouraged quickly and dejected to the sidewalk were Gren here to say anything about it—
but it was just the two of them. With the only real connection between them nonexistent in this world anymore. Yet, the bond to the man amiss remained an awkward and painful reminder that Gren would live on here without even his remains for Genessia to claim. Rather, between the woman and himself, (and whoever else) would keep the sentient reality of one who was and now is not.
“Faye.” He calls to her, his voice is low but strong as if near her ear. It would be all he would say outside the apartment building before he lead the woman inside. She was petit, beautiful, and warm as her human blood would allow for it. Her smell was familiar as there had been times in which the perfume of her flesh lamented her existence around Gren and his things.
Once inside the apartment D turned, once again, and looked to her. He was taller than her, he was taller than Gren, and he wondered what - if anything - did she see in himself that would remind her of him.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 02:12 pm (UTC)"D." Was all she said in reply to his uttering of her own name. She hadn't yet figured anything more that she wanted to day to him. So she followed on in silence until they arrived in the apartment. Faye pushed down the hood of the long coat she had been wearing and took a much better look at D now. Her expression gave nothing away as she scanned him over, until finally the corners of her lips lifted slightly with a small tug, "Your kids with Gren really would have been pale and beautiful."
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 07:29 pm (UTC)D's head lifts, just a bit, and with the movement he takes in another long breath. He's quiet about it, non-obtrusive, and by no means obvious - but he was smelling her. Again.
"Impossible." He lowered his head and held her eyes with his own, in the shade beneath the brim of his hat. "I'm keeping this apartment." He offered. "You are welcome to it." It was obvious whta he was offering her, he didn't think his meaning was to be misconstrued. However, he did request one thing, "I wish to sit in your presence, from time to time." Gren would have laughed, joked, or cried. This was D's way of making friends, pathetic.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 07:46 pm (UTC)She frowned a little as she looked around the apartment, slowly shaking her head. "You're welcome to it yourself. I don't want it." It was too uncomfortable, too Gren. But at least she had good memories attached to this place. Faye looked back at D, wrapping her arms around herself after waving at her body, up and down. "I'm not Gren." Yeah, that was stating the obvious, but she worried about D trying to find a way to replace him. "If the stubborn bitch part is what you miss then I guess you've come to the right place." Because they sure could both be that. Even to each other.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 07:53 pm (UTC)Like tombstones, he thought the flat was something that she could come and mourn, speak, or feel Gren. D imagined himself to come back many nights to be in the presence of his lover. Faye evidently had her own way of coping, it wasn't his business and he wouldn't pry.
D moved from her immediate space and drew himself to the couch where he sat himself down on. He missed Gren's voice--
"Do you sing?" Maybe they shared a love for music, the two of them. It was nice, to imagine Faye and Gren singing together. Part of him hoped they did that.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 08:10 pm (UTC)His question made her look up at him in surprise, but then she just shrugged and turned away from him. "Sure. I sing. In the shower." And around her house when she didn't think anyone was listening. She was good, she just didn't like to be heard. "Are you...musical?" Maybe that was part of Gren's draw to him too.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 08:19 pm (UTC)He knew how to play various instruments, but he had no reason to.
He lifted his eyes, his head turned to her, and he watched her a moment. He can imagine her diaphragm loosening and tightening with each breath that carried a note, with each chorus rendered in only a voice that was possible from her. Carried well or not, the power was in the feeling of the music. D did not much like to listen to recordings of songs, but he would take what he could get, of course.
Instead, the mood of the player would be weighed with each stroke of the string, the tap of their fingers across keyboards, and the breath that carried out the sound of the song-- it would be different, always. He liked that about live performances. He liked the variations of mood between one day to the next.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 09:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-12-23 10:07 pm (UTC)It was up to them, now, to figure out what they wanted to do moving forward. Without Gren.
D was content to make this place a sanctuary, a shrine. A world untouched by change where as everything outside the apartment would change. He may be gone tomorrow, but if he stayed he would adapt as the resilient side of him would have him do. He may meet another, he may make friends, he may create enemies, he may change jobs, where he lives, what he does, there were so many things that would inevitably change outside this apartment.
But this could be left alone.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-24 09:35 am (UTC)She hugged her cushion closer, burying her face in it, but then it smelled too much of Gren, and with that came all kinds of feelings that she didn't want to focus on. How much harder was this for D, who knew Gren in more intimate ways?
"There is a chance he could come back. But I wouldn't live holding onto that, if your luck is anything like mine."
no subject
Date: 2019-01-08 09:45 pm (UTC)Faye was hurting in her own way, it came out with her movements, her sharp tongue, her quick words, and the way she wore her discomfort. There was nothing more he wanted than what he had asked of her. To sit here with him. Perhaps that was too unfair, but he had never mourned like this before. Wallowed and brooded, those were common descriptives that came from the parasite within him. How unfortunate, D thought, to have the only thing he could depend on was a parasite that lived in his left hand, a symbiotic creature that liked D’s torment almost as much as it liked the booze.
D’s eyes focused on his crossed fingers and fleshed palms. “This is enough.”