|
Cian texts Simon. Somehow. Maybe Jasper gave him his number, maybe they exchanged them at that horrendously awkward but not otherwise awful meeting. Who knows. In any case, it's a short phrase.
Do you want to talk about Jasper?
-C
Not particularly. Comes a blunt reply. But it seems you wish to.
I wanted to make sure you knew what happened.
-C
a moment later: Or, as well as I know what happened.
He told me he was going to go to sleep for a while.
He told you.
-C
To an extent. I'm sure I don't completely understand. But it doesn't particularly matter. He is gone.
I suppose I didn't know him well enough to be considered worth telling.
-C
I'm presuming you knew him quite well. Texting about this is ridiculous, I know of a library that's open late if you'd like to meet. I understand if you'd rather deal with this alone.
-C
Very well. Send me the address.
It's an address just south of center city, in a pretty affluent part of town. A research library, the placard above the glass door announces, part of an antiquarian society. It's also quite locked, with a keypad next to the door.
But Cian appears a moment later, and opens it for the man. He's much more neatly dressed than their first meeting, no untucked shirt or hair flopping in his face. He offers Simon a thin smile as he ushers him inside.
"I'm friendly with one of the curators," Cian explains, his voice quiet. "We won't be disturbed. How have you been?"
Simon, meanwhile, looks a little less formal--pressed linen pants and a neat polo shirt. All ridiculously expensive designer, of course. Glasses on his nose and hair combed back loosely. His expression is reserved and cold, eyes piercing at the other man--he certainly wasn't friendly when they first met, but he's... looking quite a bit sharper and grumpy now.
"Well enough," he replies, stepping into the library while looking around. "Yourself?"
"As well as can be expected, I suppose." Cian meets Simon's eyes for only a moment before turning away. He tugs on a blue handkerchief he's got tied around his neck, and starts to walk to one of the tables in the middle of the rather minimalist and modern looking room. Rolling hand crank shelves fill up half of one wall, and flat files another.
"I've been focused on research, creating another character to play at work..." He gestures to the books open on the table - some primary materials, by the looks of it.
Simon's eyes sweep over the shelves, then the stacks of books on the table. He draws one closer to look at the other, flips through it idly, then places it back on top of the stack. He only seems to have half-interest in it though, truly.
He turns back to face Cian, looking him over. "He didn't tell you?" he asks. Cutting through the pleasantries, it seems.
Cian watches Simon look through the book - a re-printed treatise on shipping from the early 19th century - and rests his hand against the table.
"He didn't. I found out through...the grapevine, as it were."
Simon stares quietly for a few seconds, then exhales a breath.
"I'm not sure if that's something I should be flattered about or not." He leans against the edge of the table, looking out over the shelves slowly. "Either way, it's a... sucky situation."
"He...well he knew you better. I was just a short term fling - it's not as if we'd ever discussed it as anything but." Cian can't help but let a touch of bitterness to creep into his voice.
"I don't know him well enough to begin to guess at his reasons, really."
His shoulders lift. "We never talked about the future. We weren't much more than lovers, either. It clearly was not enough to make him want to stick around, so I can't claim it was anything meaningful."
Cian sighs, and nods. "I knew he wasn't the type to stick around long - he told me himself, he never is. It was naive of me to suppose that either of us made anything at all different. And yet. I hoped."
"Good things rarely linger," he says with a shrug. His arms cross over his chest loosely.
Cian arches an eyebrow. "You're well acquainted with loss, I see."
"You aren't?"
"One might think." Cian gives him a tight lipped smile. "I've managed to avoid the worst of it - there are few things I truly care about losing. Somehow Jasper managed to become one of them."
Simon considers him for a moment, then shrugs. "I lost my wife of seventeen years last year. Loosing Jasper is not so bad, comparatively. Quite easy, really. It is his loss, not mine."
Jack/Calamity/Cian (they/them)07/14/2020
"...I'm sorry." Cian's face falls. "I don't...imagine it was easy, to open yourself up to a relationship again."
He eyes Cian sharply, lips pursing. "Did you really ask me here to help me, or were you hoping I would offer you some comfort?"
"I asked you here because we happen to share a similar grief - or so I thought, given that you showed up." Cian's voice has a bit of an edge to it.
"I am more... angry, than grieving," he says after a thoughtful pause.
"I've read that anger can be part of grief." Because of course Cian read up on it.
"For what it's worth...I'm angry, too." He sure doesn't sound like it, with his even, quiet voice.
"You don't look like you are angry," he says bluntly.
"I'm well accustomed to masking how I feel." Cian shrugs. "But I'm quite upset he left me here without a word. Not a goodbye, not even a mention that we might never meet again." The end of the sentence has a little heat, but Cian is still pretty composed.
He perks a brow. "You are far more likely to meet him again than I am. But that's besides the point, I suppose."
"I don't see how that changes what I feel, no."
There's a moment of silence.
"Knowing he might return - in some ways makes it more difficult."
"Even if he did return," Simon points out, "It doesn't mean you'd have to take him back. Things being over is your choice."
"I had no plans to have to make that choice." There's a pause. "'Betrayal' sounds very dramatic, for all this, he merely did as he is wont to do, but...nonetheless." Cian sighs. "I would have much preferred not to be in a position to even consider it. I wouldn't have, if he'd told me. Even now, if he suddenly returned tomorrow. I very much doubt I'd be able to stay away for long."
Simon stares at him for a moment. "That's weak. But I suppose I can't fault you terribly much."
"Do you consider yourself stronger than that?" Cian's voice goes a little sharp, and he arches an eyebrow.
"I can't rightly predict the future. But if he returned tomorrow, I would not take him back, no. He would have quite a lot of work ahead of him for me to even consider it." He shakes his head. "People who toy with your emotions and treat you as disposable are not worth your time."
"And so it makes me weak, that I...allowed myself to have a relationship with someone who's done that? That I still feel his pull?"
"It makes us both fools, to have allowed ourselves this--but it only makes you weak if you continue to let him take advantage of you."
"Is that why you've hardened your heart so much?" Cian's tone is bitter, and he sighs.
"Yes," he replies bluntly.
"And how has it treated you, this past year?"
"I am alive and successful. I would say well enough."
"...That sounds fairly miserable." Cian shrugs. "Alive and successful is something of a minimum, don't you think?"
"Some luxuries are traded for others," he says with a shrug.
"Happiness is a luxury. Hmh. On some level i suppose I agree with you, isn't that depressing?" Cian lets out a hollow laugh.
"It's only depressing if you haven't fully accepted the choices you've made, to prioritize other things in your life."
"So you've prioritized success over happiness..." Cian shakes his head. "Why?"
"Why do you care about my priorities?" he counters.
"I want to know why he chose you. And why he discarded you." Cian shrugs. "We already have similarities, I want to see how deep they run."
Simon's eyes narrow a hint at Cian. "I don't owe you anything."
"This isn't a business transaction, Simon." Cian shakes his head.
"All the same, I don't owe you anything. I don't owe you explanations of my life. I don't owe you understanding of why he did what he did, to make you feel better about yourself."
Another head shake. "I never suggested you did. There's no owing, merely interest."
Simon stares for a long moment, lips pursed. But eventually he scoffs softly in frustration.
"Fine, to satisfy your curiosity... I am cursed. I do not know when exactly my doom will come to be, but I know it will be sooner rather than later. Happiness does not matter to me anymore. What matters is creating as much wealth as possible to hand down to my daughter, to assure she is taken care of well into the future, before I perish."
"...I'm sorry." It's clearly not what Cian is expecting. "You don't think you can do both? Succeed and be happy? Or was that what you were trying to do with Jasper?" His voice is soft and curious. No pity to speak of.
"I had my happiness with my wife. I'm content with the years I had. I'd rather make the most of the time I have rather than continue to dawdle about with distractions. Jasper was a mistake."
"And as you said, 'the most' has no room for anything but providing for your daughter." There's a moment of silence.
"Do you spend much time with her?"
"When I can. She's a teenage girl, so usually spends her time trying to figure out how to do anything but."
"And you think, when you're gone, she'll be satisfied with this weath, and not wish her father had been happier, when he was still around?"
"Perhaps. But I don't really care," he says, and seems to mean it.
"You don't care how your daughter will think about you, once you're gone?" Cian eyebrow arches and he gives Simon a searching look.
"How other people think of me is not my responsibility. Certainly, I want her to be happy, and to remember me fondly, but that desire is secondary to making sure she has everything she needs for the rest of her life."
"And if that happiness is something she needs...?" Cian's just not gonna stop digging, apparently, but he shakes his head after a moment. "Do you mind if I ask how your curse came to be? Or is that a more painful subject than your daughter's happiness?"
"I came into contact with a being not of this world," he replies, then pushes off of the edge of the table. "Is your curiosity satisfied? I'm growing tired of this conversation."
"I'm honestly surprised you showed up at all, from what Jasper's said I assumed you'd have no interest in any sort of discussion. What...were you hoping to get from this?"
"Lets say I was also curious. But it's run it's course, and you clearly have little to offer me otherwise." He tips his head, then turns to move towards the door. "Good luck, Cian."
"You as well - I hope your success can fill that hole in your heart." It's a little cruel, maybe, but Cian's face doesn't show any animosity.
He scoffs softly. "You've clearly missed the point." But he continues on to the door, opening it. "Goodnight." Then off he goes.
|