as_damaged | ☎ voicemail

[He's not going to argue over what it felt like when she told him he didn't have a hope with her. So a pause and a rustle as he figures out what to say. Those might be blankets, it is late.]

I wanted more than sex. [So he's told.] And you?

I... thought that maybe modifying my behavior would modify my beliefs.

[It is, indeed, late. She's perched on her couch anyway. It's impossible to be comfortable having this conversation.]

And it was fine for a while, anyway. Until you called me out on it.

You thought modifying your behaviour... [This trails off into incredulity.] You could have asked me to smack you with a newspaper anytime you looked interested, but it would have been less fun.

That if I said I didn't want more enough times... [She trails off, anguish warring with defensive anger.] I didn't want to want more.

[He really doesn't understand the anger. Is it at him?]

You can't just program yourself like a computer. You're tying to quantify having... feelings for someone. You have feelings for me.

[She doesn't, either, not entirely. Maybe it's just that not having the upper hand makes her feel helpless.]

It surprises me that you're surprised.

Yeah, I should just go with believing the opposite of what you tell me in future.

Chase, I...

[She pauses for a breath. It's a little hard not to crack when a few days ago they were sitting side by side, years apart.]

I wasn't sure if I could start something new. I'm still not.

[That gets a little laugh, at her own expense. There's no way to tell him how much idea of commitment terrifies her.]

[There's a sigh across the line. Without the aid of expressions it's impossible to tell whether it's wistful or irritated. With them, it would still be hard. When he speaks, it's with teeth tight.]

I have feelings for you.

[He stops, but that doesn't seem to be it. Also: possibly stating the obvious.]

I know.

[God, that's the stupidest thing she could've said, isn't it.]

I don't know why I couldn't just say it. [You can hear the stupid half-grin, half-grimace she's wearing right now in her tone.]

It might have helped.

[Chase, on the other hand, may be considering smothering himself with a pillow. There's something he promised I'd tell her. No time like the worst possible.]

I asked Angela if she wanted to give things another try. Casually.

[There's a long silence on her end. She can't help it, she's thinking of other things. Her husband, her husband's best friend, and if she believed in the divine maybe this mess would be retribution for falling in love with the wrong person at the wrong time, even if she never broke her vows.]

Oh.

You told me--

[He cuts himself off with a snap. That's not fair: if he'd known, he still doesn't know which way he'd go. If he'd be able to go either.]

I thought you might appreciate not having to worry about my putting things on hold. And I... I like her.

I know you do.

[So much for being honest. It might have been a relief, honestly, if she hadn't made herself so vulnerable first. A legitimate excuse not to pursue him. Unfortunately for her...]

Then I guess we have nothing more to talk about.

[Remember that neat, rational disinterest? This is why she does it.]

[He'd asked what she would do, that afternoon at the coffee shop, and she'd dismissed it. That had been the last chance he'd given himself with her. Nothing about this place is rational.]

Wait, [Oh yes, he knows that tone, and the last thing he wants is to go back to it.] nothing more?

You're with her. I'm not going to stand in your way.

[What she says and what he hears don't always match up; at the moment she's too crestfallen to blame anyone for that. It's too little, too late. Better to move on, pretend it doesn't bother her.]

That's not... all I meant.

[The edge to his voice doesn't want her to hang up like this, and not just because working with her after a night stewing on this is going to be a bitch.]

I was wrong.

Wrong about what?

[Easier like this than it was at home. There, she could be mad at him for calling her bluff, breaking their rules. Here it's all her fault and the curse's, all she can do is shrink away.]

We see the arse end of things. Statistically there are far more people who die in bed, happily, next to someone they love.

[Shrinking is worse than yelling, in his book.]

Not everything ends badly.

[Getting nasty serves no purpose when he knows it's a facade. Shrinking saves a little face.]

That's true.

[She rather doubts she'll be one of them, though.]

So don't start things backwards.

[Maybe that way they'll actually start.]

[She doesn't know what to say to that. It won't make a difference, here, and she won't remember it at home.]

I'll keep it in mind.

[He half expected a lecture on telling her what to do. There again, she did post a dear Abby note on the network.

It's on his tongue to ask if she's alright. If he can come over. Old habits, avoidances, die hard.]

You in tomorrow?

[The lack of a lecture is not necessarily a good sign. She's fine, though; or at least, she's calm and collected enough not to show how fine she isn't. Some people forget curses, after; she's never been that lucky.]

Yeah. I'll be in.

[She'd rather not see him. But the less affected by this she seems, the better.]

Maybe you should get some sleep.

[This time more carefully phrased as a suggestion. It's 3am, and if they both come in looking like extras from Night of the Living Dead House will put two and two together to make sixty nine.

And he doesn't want to be the one to hang up. This has been... difficult, and confusing, and in it's way miraculous. She has feelings for him. He's a jerk. A jerk she has feelings for.]

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