lights off, black-out curtains closed tight, greyson slept soundly in the middle of the day. he'd been more tired than usual, these past few weeks, and had napped more than he could ever remembering doing.
[break][break]
depression naps.
[break][break]
the vibration of his phone stirred him conscious, and he hesitantly reached for it with bleary vision. when it kept vibrating, he scowled and groaned, before blinking through to see the name on the screen.
[break][break]
then he jolted up.
[break][break]
his eyes widened and heart hammered, his nerves frayed at the ends and throat dryed. he'd given up hope of her reaching out, but now that she had... what did he say?
[break][break]
gulping past the knot in his throat, he presses accept.
[break][break]
"hello?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

It rings for longer than it ever has. Each time the singsong note trills, the heavier her heart feels, the tighter her fingers squeeze the phone. Dread fills her with self-doubt and the itch to cancel the call.

For a moment she pulls it away to consider it, watching the seconds tick up. Her thumb hovers the end call button.

But then she hears his voice, and nearly fumbles the phone instead. His tone is questioning, as it should be, and she hurriedly presses her phone back to her cheek to catch the tail-end of his hello. Her heart thumps loudly, tears well up in her eyes.

"It is so good to hear your voice."

Her voice trembles a bit, would he hear it?

"Greyson, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Greyson Connors

☉

the silence, however brief, stretches like miles. a deep-sense of foreboding grips his chest, and his eyes turn misty automatically. when she does reply...
[break][break]
the pain only worsens, a worm that burrows through his layers, shattering well-placed walls and defenses.
[break][break]
but even deeper still, there's something else. a relief so profound, he releases the breathe he hadn't known he was holding.
[break][break]
a thousand words rush through his mind; dozens of prepared speeches, angry rants, sob-filled questions. but they die away when it all matters most. the words that find him next are soft and pained.
[break][break]
"hi gwen."
[break][break]
her name still brings a small smile to his face, but it dies quickly.
[break][break]
"where have you been?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

Leaving him had been a mistake, it had been a moment of weakness. Panic had gripped her tighter than she anticipated, pulling her from his side in an instant.

And for nothing.

Hi Gwen.

She misses the feeling of her fingers laced through his, of his constant warmth, his shoulder pressed to hers. They're too far apart, lead astray, a knot once steadfast now severed.

"... Home. I went home." Why did that word sound so.. wrong? Like a lie. "I needed to see my father. I-I saw something at the Soiree that scared me."

She bites her bottom lip, hard, to still the trembling. Her fingers tighten around the phone more, the phone case groans.

But it hadn't just been the interdream mist that had scared her.

Greyson Connors

☉

greyson lays back down, the energy of simply answering the phone expending more than he had to spare. his arm feels weak, and lids heavy, but only the burden of the truth keeps him awake.
[break]
[break]
"home?"
[break]
[break]

the confusion in his tone is clear, and beneath the cover of darkness, his brow furrows. reaching up with three fingers, he rubs his eyes.
[break]
[break]

"what did you see that made you go... home?"
[break]
[break]

i thought i was home.

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

She can hear the rustle of him as he lays down, but she assumes it to be something else. Her mind automatically assumes the worst- that he's busy and she's pulling him from something. That he would prefer to be anywhere but in the moment, on the other end of the phone. She wasn't his anymore, she had made that clear when she'd left without a goodbye.

How she wished she could go back in time.

"To see my dad, in Kalos. I thought that something had happened-- I don't know what happened to me at the party, but I thought that he might be in danger."

The more she talks about it out loud, the less realistic it seems to feel. It had just been a dream, a nightmare of desire that lead to destruction. Her affection for Greyson had lead her astray and she had watched her father decline. It was silly, because he was the strongest man she had ever met.

But because she had chose Greyson, the interdream had told her she would lose her father.

"It wasn't real. The nightmare wasn't real, and he's safe, and I'm safe. I was scared, Greyson, and I'm sorry."

Greyson Connors

☉

he listens, his heart beat a thunderous hammering in his chest. when she apologizes for another time, he suppresses a sigh. anger, frustration, and grief roll around in his stomach.
[break][break]
"we.. all had nightmares, gwen."
[break][break]

his had been obscure, at first. then, weeks of dwelling had made it all to clear. all too terrifying. as if prompted by the anxiety of it all, he turns his head towards the bag at his desk, eyes resting on the collection of dual colored orbs.
[break][break]

his hand reaches out to them, but the energy leaves that, too.
[break][break]

"i'm glad your dad is alright."
[break][break]

there's an unsaid but at the end. it doesnt stay that way for long.
[break][break]

"but... why didn't you tell me? why didn't you answer me?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

"I.. know."

She can feel it even through the phone, how his eyebrows come together and he grinds his teeth to keep from expressing his frustration. Or maybe she's assuming the worst again, painting a picture in her mind of what she wanted him to do. She deserved it. She deserved his anger and his frustration, she deserved being shouted at, scolded. She had let him down.

I will be your shield, but she had failed to be just that.

"Because.."

Her mind is blank, because no reasonable excuse comes to mind. Her actions didn't make sense then, and they didn't now. But to tell him that she didn't know why wouldn't help and wasn't really the truth.

What was she to say?

"I was scared of you, scared of the choice I made in the dream, scared of myself. I- I don't know, I panicked."

She lets her voice fall away while she thinks.

"You punched someone, Greyson. I have never seen you that upset, so upset you'd hurt someone else. It scared me."

Greyson Connors

☉

"scared of me, huh?"
[break][break]
his voice drops, and in it's wake, a long exhale. there, lying on his back in bed, he stretches out his free hand and stares emptily at the ceiling.
[break][break]
it was something no man wanted to hear from the person they loved.
[break][break]
"he... deserved it."
[break][break]
how could he explain to her the depth of his anger? how his best friend had betrayed him to join an organization that was downright evil. if the stars had aligned, he'd have had both gwen, and danny behind him.
[break][break]
but that wasn't the case for either of them, it seemed. his anger leaks through just a bit.
[break][break]
"people talk things through, gwen. they don't run and come back when it suites them."
[break][break]
his voice drops again to barely a whisper.
[break][break]
"they don't leave the person they care about to wonder what happened."

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

"That isn't--"

She doesn't have time to explain, but how could she? Isn't that exactly what she had said? It was, because it was true. He had punched someone in front of her, been seething with rage and had asked her to leave. Wasn't that how it had went? He had told her to go and get them drinks so that she wouldn't see.

But she had.

Or maybe it hadn't happened like that.

All of a sudden she couldn't remember the details, only the sound of his knuckles connecting with the other man's jaw.

"Did he? Violence is not the answer to problems, Greyson."

Her voice is stern, defensive in the face of his own. She can taste his bitterness and his anger, and although it isn't exactly unfair of him to be angry, the intensity of it and the accusations behind it make her sad.

"I had to go, it was my Father. Before I met you, he was the only person I had to care about. I'm sorry I didn't do better, but I did what I thought I had to."

The dinner she's made in the oven has begun to warm up her apartment and leak flavorful smells in the air. It makes her nauseous.

"I do care about you. But it wasn't you that I saw dying alone in a hospital bed in a crazy fever dream."

Greyson Connors

☉

his heartbeat is a bugle to the anxiety that courses through him; an untamable tide that sweeps through his nerves and turns his digits into tingling, numb messes.
[break][break]
she was getting angry at him?
[break][break]

greyson shoots up, no longer held down by the anchor of apathy. his skin turns a rosy flush and greyson bares his fangs.
[break][break]

"i get get that, gwen. i do. you know about my mother, and the stuff she goes through."
[break][break]

greyson doesn't dare broach the subject about striking danny, letting her comment sink beneath the tidal wave of barely contain agitation. if he spoke on the subject anymore, the hammer of his rage would strike the wrong anvil, and it wasn't gwen's fault danny did what he did.
[break][break]

"but you left without so much as a word, and then? not a single one for weeks after. weeks after you knew your father was alright."
[break][break]

he thinks back to his own dream — his nightmare — and recalls the loneliness that overwhelmed all other feelings. he remembers vividly that one minute she was there, and then, poof, gone.
[break][break]

the difference between the two of them was that both had lived through their nightmare, but only one had woken up to theirs's being true.

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

"I do, I--"

He continues, his frustration rising like a violent, red tide. She can't keep up, her voice is lost. He's overwhelming, intense, consumed by his feelings. Her shoulder bumps into the wall and she hugs it for comfort, for stability.

"I made a mistake. People make mistakes."

And people forgive, too, which was what she was trying to do for him. She wanted to forgive him, she wanted to call him and apologize and look past the blatant red flag she'd seen to give him, to give love, a second chance. The door was closing on that chance, and rapidly.

"Stop it."

Her heart is pounding, but his accusations are like needles handled by an amateur, inaccurate and messy.

"You aren't mad at me. Please don't yell at me."

She breathes in to catch her breath, brows knit together. Her pumpkin spice latte remains untouched on the counter, set aside with the coffee she'd picked up for him with him in mind.

"I've never done this before. I don't know how to do this, how to be a partner. The only thing I do know is how to look after my Father. I stayed because I needed to, because I wanted to, because I was afraid to leave him."

It wasn't because of you.

Greyson Connors

☉

her plead catches him off-guard, and his breath hitches, words trapped behind the vacuum. when he's finally able to breathe normally again, the exhaustion of his anger catches up to him, and he collapses back onto the bed.
[break][break]
closing his eyes, greyson does his best to steady his breathing, feeling the writhing and twisting of his anger slowly unknot and bleed away.
[break][break]

greyson is silent for a few moments, and finally, he sighs.
[break][break]

"i'm sorry for yelling."
[break][break]

he hated yelling. lifting up his other hand, he watches it tremble from the surge of adrenaline and fear that followed it.
[break][break]

"it's just—"
[break][break]

the fear from my nightmare had come true? everyone i care about is leaving? i don't know what i'm doing with my life anymore?
[break][break]

"—been a long few weeks."

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]