[ by now, it's not by any means a secret that both therion and jiaoqiu have issues, but sometimes, therion's turn out to be particularly relevant - and particularly ugly. and the thing about it that's most important is that it's not jiaoqiu's fault.
because it's not, not really. a sane and normal person would probably feel differently, or act differently than therion has recently. it's been months, now - the incident with hoolay is long behind them, and for the most part, things have been good. transient as he may be, he's made his way back to jiaoqiu. quietly, he shows his affection, learns to cope with the feeling of handing over his precious trust, bit by bit.
but lately, things have been off. it's a twitchy feeling somewhere in the back of his neck. sore old bones - it never rains in sunshade, but he takes jiaoqiu with him to a greener city along the train line and it pours, and it makes his bones ache with the weight of old injuries, with bitter nostalgia. it's looking at this good thing he has and wondering how it might break, thoughts that become more and more intrusive by the day. he steals things recklessly. sees a wanted poster with his own face on it when he hops to belobog, and in another town in northreach back here, not unusual but no less of a reminder. it's discordant, sometimes, to disappear into the shadiest parts of places unknown and return back to sunshade like he's some kind of normal person, someone with a life, as opposed to what he is. he watches jiaoqiu blossom in the desert sun and wonders how long it's going to be until therion ruins it somehow - or worse, until jiaoqiu realizes that he's not worth the attention or time he's really been given, that he's something or someone to be used. a lockpick. a stepping stone. hardly a person.
therion's barely aware of the rapidly downward spiral he's sliding down, and though he's kept it to himself for the most part, today, there's a catalyst. one of the workers at the tavern had been chattering with jiaoqiu about a cute new area of town when therion came in from his daily walkabouts, pockets a little heavier and footsteps light. he stops for a while to listen to the conversation, keeping a safe, undetectable distance, and eventually, he makes his way over to join him, greeting jiaoqiu and whoever he's talking to with a sup nod and not much else as he sits down and orders a drink. ]
[ when therion goes out next, jiaoqiu asks to go with him - because he wants to go somewhere, for the first time in a long time. it's spur of the moment, and he tells therion that it's fine if he'd rather not take him along, because jiaoqiu knows that therion likes his space, likes the freedom. he's always worried about being an anchor - which both of them are aware of, by now. but they both go, and for the first time in a long time, jiaoqiu feels... sort of normal. like he could be normal. like he could enjoy life for what it is.
it worries him, sometimes, to think that therion might not feel the same. that therion could, at any moment, decide that he doesn't want the dead weight. he wonders if the only reason they're still a thing is because jiaoqiu knows about the tavern in sunshade - that it'd be too hard to get rid of him now, because of primrose. most times he can put that away, because therion seems happy with what they have, despite all his grumbling, but. it lingers.
today, he's nursing his own drink as he talks with one of the workers. he's been thinking about this recently - primrose tells him she doesn't mind letting him live in therion's room, and he believes her, but it might be nice to have a place to himself. he misses his little apartment, sometimes. he gave up the lease to it a month or two back, but didn't tell therion. and the thing is, he doesn't notice therion listening when he offhandedly mentions that he gave up his old apartment to the tavern worker - doesn't mention, either, that he didn't tell therion because he wasn't sure how he'd react to the idea of jiaoqiu giving up his old life entirely. it's just that sunshade feels a little better. warmer, he says, kind of a joke.
the new area of town is relatively inexpensive, hoping to coax in new life, and jiaoqiu is... considering it.
when therion slips into the seat next to him, his tail waves gently behind him, as usual. ]
Hello. [ he says, affection in his tone. ] Not too horribly sunburned?
[ he says, banter for banter's sake, putting his chin in his hand and staring at him - as ever, his neutral face is unreadable, but therion's sarcasm is his normal form of affection, so there's nothing particularly strange there.
he's really not jiaoqiu. in a lot of ways. much as jiaoqiu worries sometimes that he's deadweight, therion worries that he drags him, though he'd never voice it out loud. he'd likely do better living a normal life, even if it'd be bad, at first. he's stolen him away, after all, taken him away from his niece. he never even visits. hoolay's probably gone by now, so it'd be safe for him to go back. he expects it, eventually, that other shoe that's constantly weighing in the back of his mind.
and now he's thinking about it. talking about cute little areas of towns and apartment complexes, affordable, shiny places with big, well stocked kitchens for someone who finds joy in life when he cooks. isn't that what he wants? isn't that what any normal person wants? why wouldn't they?
he regards him for a moment as his drink is delivered - a beer, he doesn't drink heavily and never will, and glances from his companion back to jiaoqiu's face. ]
[ the tavern worker mentions the new area - and jiaoqiu hums, tracing the rim of his glass. ]
Expansion, I suppose. [ he says idly. the worker is going to say more, but gets flagged down by a couple of patrons, and jiaoqiu shoos him off gently. glances at therion, head tilted. as usual, he's not the kind to do PDA, but he does reach over and rest a hand on therion's arm briefly. he's happy to see him. ]
You've seen the advertisements for the new apartments they're building?
[ something - something uneasy, winds up in his chest. a little black hole. ]
Yeah. [ nonchalant, as ever. his gaze flicks to the hand that was on his arm and comes back up - he takes a drink of his beer, and raises an eyebrow, a non verbal "go on". ]
I'd thought about seeing what one would cost. As generous as Miss Primrose is, and as comfortable as I am in our room, I wouldn't mind having an apartment here. [ a beat. ] Though I'd hope she'd still allow me to work in her tavern. I enjoy it.
there's not any reason to feel bad about it, but that black hole feeling gets even worse - widening, threatening. he glances away from jiaoqiu, back at his drink, expression unchanging, but to jiaoqiu's trained eye, there's a tenseness to him that's rising slowly as the conversation carries on. normalcy. a regular life. a reminder, that they live in the top room of a tavern as a favor, though therion shares profits with primrose and does her favors in exchange, the age old back and forth they've always had. something given, and something taken.
easier that way. ]
Sure.
[ laconic as ever, therion. he takes a long sip of his drink. ]
[ he's not... sure why there's tenseness. he doesn't quite understand why this makes therion upset, but. still, he notes it, and he's a little more cautious, ear tilting back slightly. is it because therion thinks jiaoqiu wants to live alone, he wonders - is it because therion thinks jiaoqiu's trying to distance himself? he's not sure.
a beat. ]
I would like it if you would live with me. [ he says, tentatively. ] ... It's just a thought. I haven't decided.
[ it gets a little worse. it's - there's that feeling, that sense of trapped that catches. that reminder, that that's the life he doesn't have, that he can't have. the idea of planting his roots makes him feel nauseous, and so, therion being therion, makes bad decisions. his voice stays as unaffected as ever. ]
I've got somewhere to live. [ a pause, as something occurs to him, and he glances sideways. ] You gonna pay double rent?
[ his ears press back a little further - his expression doesn't change, because they're both masters of keeping neutral, but the thing about being close to someone is that sometimes, you learn their body language very, very well. and what therion can probably tell from just that is that I've got somewhere to live hurts his feelings a little. but he doesn't say anything, or contest it. just... okay. that's fine.
silence, for a moment, as he looks down at his drink. ]
... No. [ and he brings said drink up to knock back the rest of it. ] My lease for my previous apartment lapsed, and I did not renew it. I don't have any desire to go back. I suppose that makes me between homes, for now.
[ yeah. he sees it - the hurt in those pressed back ears is impossible to miss. good, some tiny, bitter part of him thinks, eggs on. that's what he wants, right now. if jiaoqiu wants to go live in some fancy apartment and settle back down, he can do that. it's going to save therion the hurt if he backs off, because jiaoqiu's going to settle his roots down, and therion can't do that. he can't give him what he needs because he doesn't know how to give.
he looks at him for a moment, silent, taking what he said in. he didn't renew his lease?
there's a huff. guess that's not really that surprising. he did almost die there. ]
Makes two of us. [ he doesn't even really seem mad, is the thing. he just seems off, or at least he seems like he's put up all his walls, again, the iron curtain he had when they first met. ] If you like one, then get one.
[ it takes a lot, to make jiaoqiu angry. he doesn't often snap, or curse, or even use harsher language at all. whenever he's annoyed, it's passive aggressive, muted. he very rarely even lets it out. most emotions he swallows, and keeps down where he can't see. where nobody can see. someone has to be calm. someone has to be the tactician, the one that watches from all angles, and comes to a conclusion that makes objective sense.
but therion is off. therion is closing off from him, and jiaoqiu does not lose his patience very often, but - maybe tonight, he does, because he doesn't understand what he did or said wrong. this is the last landmine he can brush off - and more than that, his feelings are hurt. so, tone sharp, a lash of a whip: ]
If you would take my offer without biting me first, for once in your life, you could have a home.
[ it almost takes him off guard, because he's gotten the occasional, frustrated therion from jiaoqiu, but nothing quite so sharp before. an open wound that he naturally digs his fingers in - they're still sitting in the tavern area, there are still people around, and the idea of being seen makes therion prickle even further.
for once in your life, you could have a home, he says. it stings, and the scowl deepens. this could be that turning point, as so many turning points have been passed between them, a place they could reach together, but he's thinking about cliffs and falling and he's not able to make that step. therion keeps his voice low, turning his head to actually, properly look at him, and he says what he knows is going to hurt. ]
I don't want one. [ point blank, just as sharp. mean. jiaoqiu's right; he's a mean dog that bites, even still. ] You ever think of that?
[ it's a lie. it's a self-protecting, desperate lie, selfish words from a selfish little parasite. of course he wants a home. of course he's - having one, having something close to it, has made his heart ache in ways too big for his ribcage, and he's given himself over to it, and he shouldn't, he knows better. ]
[ it does hurt. it hurts a lot, actually, because there's so much to it. it unlocks all of those worries and fears, the idea that this is temporary, like everything else in his life. the little bit of being alive, of being awake, in his long, long life - it only lasts as long as therion cares to play with him. and if he's too pushy, if he's not interesting enough, if he's too sedentary, therion will take off and never come back, and it'll be just like the borisin before him. useful for his holes and very little else. for his medicine skills, maybe.
i don't want a home, i don't want to play house, and most of all, i especially want to do neither with you. it's a lie, but it's very easy for someone as worthless as jiaoqiu to believe. it's such an easy, open path to the idea that jiaoqiu has overstayed his welcome. that explains why he never says, out loud, that he loves jiaoqiu, too. it all makes sense. therion's a good person. he wouldn't lie about something like that just to save jiaoqiu's feelings. he'd dodged around it before to stop jiaoqiu from sinking back into the void, obviously.
a pause, clutching the drinking glass tightly. ]
No. I didn't think of that. [ ... ] Then I suppose I must be nothing more than a shackle to you.
it doesn't make him feel better. in fact, it mostly just makes it worse - but hey, that's how it's supposed to be, right? what did darius ever do but use him. he's no better than that. that's what he needs jiaoqiu to see. he needs him to understand that therion's just as shitty, just as bad, that he doesn't have sharp teeth and toxins and god only knows what else, but all he knows how to do is hurt.
and yet, there's something about that that sticks. a shackle? no. no, he doesn't think that. that's the thing - and no, therion couldn't ever say "i love you" because he was scared. and here, despite his current attempt at pushing him away, he can't bring himself to deliver the final blow. yeah, that's it. just a shackle.
the words are there, but he can't, because he doesn't think that, because despite everything, he's never felt like a shackle. because he's never trapped him - he's only ever offered him safety. comfort. love. he's respected therion's boundaries, his nature, and if therion was a smarter person, he'd stop trying to push himself away from the one thing he actually wants. but all he can do is not choke out the last, cruel phrase, and push himself up from the barstool. ]
Think whatever you want.
[ he pushes the rest of his drink away, back towards the bar, and drops some cash down with it, turning his back. whatever. he doesn't need this. he doesn't need a house. he doesn't need a life. to have those things is just to lose them. ]
[ if jiaoqiu were a little less broken, a little less critical of himself, he'd get up and he'd go after therion. he'd grab therion's hand and he'd tell him what he feels. he'd get all of the poison he keeps swallowing down out and he'd hand over his heart and ask therion to be honest, to just, for once, to be vulnerable, because jiaoqiu has earned a little bit of that, right? he can't keep expecting jiaoqiu to hurt him when he has done all he can to prove that he won't.
but he is broken, and he is critical of himself, and it's not therion that's at fault, it's just that this is how his entire life has gone. not enough.
(you should sit down, the general and the crow are--)
cunning and patience will get you nowhere if the rest of you is worth less than dirt. so. he watches therion get up and turn his back, and says nothing. he just slides off his own barstool and drifts off to the back of the tavern, towards their room. therion's room. he'll decide what to do later. ]
not that unusual, really - he disappears for days at a time sometimes. it's kind of the benefit of being who he is, that when he walked into this tavern, he had his whole life slung over his back, and now as he's leaving it, he has the same.
(only... he doesn't. the upstairs room where he's been staying has touches of his life - practical things like extra clothes and food, but the less practical, too. an extra set of earrings, a bottle of black nail polish. a hoodie that jiaoqiu bought that was too big on purpose, that therion stole more often than not. extra blankets for cold desert nights. a hairbrush bought specifically to deal with fur care that therion pretended he didn't buy just for himself to use for jiaoqiu, when they settled together and he'd brush out his tail despite all his complaining. and then there's jiaoqiu himself - a stolen treasure, something he never deserved to have, but the greatest heist he'd ever pulled off.)
in the end, he's gone with the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and his shitty little backpack, off into the night to go fuck off somewhere else, as far away from sunshade and as far away from what he ruined as humanly possible, like maybe that'll make it easier. like maybe it won't hurt, if he leaves it behind. he skips out of the country, the first few days. off for inter-system travel, and then disappears again, somewhere else, again and again.
a week passes with no word. a week and a half. nearly two. not a text message, not an in person sighting, nothing. primrose notices - if she hadn't noticed his general absence, she'd notice jiaoqiu. she's a smart girl, observant. and it's on the eve of the beginning of that second week that she crooks her finger and tells him she's booked him a private service at the end of his shift. something special. some of the others are giggly about it, as they often are.
but in reality, that "private service" turns out to be the private back room of the tavern, once used for any manner of seedy activities, bed and all, and is actually just primrose herself, shutting the curtains on the rest of the world for a while. whether it's successful or not, primrose insists he sit with her for a while, pulls his head into her lap and fixes his braids for him.
she'll avoid the topic for him for some of the evening but, at some point, she sighs, and pulls on a lock of his hair, and says, "I don't know what's happened between you two, but I do know this - men are stupid."
and jiaoqiu may get the feeling that perhaps this a statement mostly directed towards therion.... mostly. ]
nearly two, and it's likely the worst primrose has ever seen him, really. he shows up to work, but he's shut off. his expression is placid, a smile, but there's nothing behind it. time is a blur, and he finds himself almost fast-forwarded. in front of a stove, looking at where he accidentally burned his fingers. in bed, where he rolled over into an empty space. outside, at the edge of town - unsure how he got there, actually. when he checks his wallet after that one, he finds that he doesn't have one anymore. not that it matters. he doesn't have anybody to buy anything for, so he just stops carrying things around with him at all.
he's late to breakfast service one morning because he doesn't hear his alarm. something in him is terrified at that. the overwhelming majority doesn't care, and he sinks back into the silence, apologizing to primrose when he comes downstairs, gold eyes dead and flat. that's the day that she books a private service with him, and he doesn't have any reason to refuse. so he goes, showing up because he has no other place to be.
primrose is allowed to do whatever she wants. his hair is passable - his braids look like he hasn't touched them in a few days - but his fur around his ears and his tail, especially, are tangled and snarled. he doesn't react much as she braids it, just rests where he's curled up, head in her lap. it should be comforting, but he's distracted by the lighting on the wall. if he stares long enough, it flickers. he's not sure if it's his eyes or if it's the light itself.
it takes him a second to realize that she's said something. you're supposed to reply, he tells himself. right. ]
A wise sentiment. [ he says, voice airy and light. he's good at this. he's good at pretending. ] Women have always been our greatest benefactors. Without them, we would run the world into the ground.
[ but he's distant and not really paying attention to what he's saying. he doesn't want to think about therion, and his empty bed, the black nail polish jiaoqiu is wearing clumsily painted onto claws, the brush that he hid under the bed because he couldn't bear to look at it. ]
[ oh, it's so bad. those dead gold eyes were a giveaway. the placid face is too. see, game recognizes game, because primrose azelhart wore that same expression on her face for the majority of her adult life. the same vapid, fake smile. it's how she knows, because she was great at pretending, too - it was one of the things that she and therion had in common, though in her opinion, he was kind of bad at it comparatively.
so, thus, jiaoqiu gets dragged off to be paid attention to. she looks down at him as she fixes the braids, undoes them with her clever fingers and combs her fingers through it, finds some of the snarls in his fur and gently picks through those, too, the best that she can. she doesn't know he needs a brush for it in particular. therion learned it from observation.
however, she does sigh when he says this. "Yes. And you are so full of pretty words, as always..."
and then tugs on a piece of his hair. "And not a single thought behind them. " because she is not stupid! she can see you moping!! and in fact, she'll let the silence rest for a moment after this correct accusation, and then add, "You're wearing black nail polish." ]
[ it's okay - she's doing her best, and it does mean something. over time, he's grown to care a lot about primrose. she's a brilliant, clever woman, and she's been through so much. she hasn't told him a lot of it, and that's fine, he never pries, but he recognizes the vapid smile the same way she recognizes his. he knows what causes that. war, of whatever kind. so - he cares for her, he picks up extra work to ease her burdens and he listens, because she is worth it. and... well, she's a little easier to look after than therion ever has been.
not a single thought, she accuses, and his tail flicks once, almost in protest. but he doesn't argue. his eyes are on the growing black hole in the middle of the room. if he reached out, he could probably touch it.
but her observation gets him to pause. ]
... Therion left it behind. [ he says, finally. it's kind of pathetic. ] I haven't... heard from him. I don't expect to.
"Yes, I thought as much." first, because jiaoqiu does not seem like an emo kid like therion does. she does not say this, but she does think it, and after the pause, she watches jiaoqiu's distant staring for a long moment, and mentally ratshakes therion because this has to be his fault.
"It's been some time, even for him." primrose starts, after a moment, weight behind her phrasing, because she knows him, too. primrose would see therion maybe once every few months, before his arrival with jiaoqiu, but the stretches were down to mere days, and he'd stay for weeks at a time. he left much more behind than just a bottle of nail polish. there's another soft sigh. "Will you tell me what happened? Or shall I guess." ]
[ it's a little jiaoqiu's fault too, because he sucks just as bad at communicating, but he has no way of - you guessed it - communicating this. he picks at the polish on his nails absently, laying limply in primrose's lap. ]
... I am a shackle. [ he says, softer, staring out across the room. ] I suggested that I find an apartment here. I invited him to live with me, and of course he wasn't interested. He won't need to play house any longer.
[ it's been like this from the start - he's always felt bad tying his chain to therion, because by nature therion was not someone who would be happy or satisfied with being stagnant in one place. he shouldn't have mentioned it. ]
[ mm. she looks into the camera like this is the office. not really but that's the vibe.
"... typical." yeah, that sounds about right. though, she glances down at jiaoqiu, pausing in her braiding, her voice as soft as always. "And did you believe him, when he said those things?" ]
a beat. jiaoqiu wrenches his gaze away from the room to look up at her. ]
I don't know what else to do, Primrose. [ he just sounds very tired. defeated. ] He won't say the words. What else am I supposed to think, when everything he says suggests I'm a burden to him?
[ not his actions, though. jiaoqiu knows, somewhere, that actions speak louder than words, and he knows the type of person therion is, but he's gotten to the end of the feeble self worth he's got. eventually, that's going to start telling him that he should stop reading love into how therion acts, no matter how genuine it is. ]
[ this time, her hands stroke through his hair instead of just braiding when their eyes meet - the gesture is affectionate, but more so than anything, it's laced with concern. she's come to care very much about jiaoqiu, in his time in this place, and watching him backslide like this is troubling. it's written on her face, a small, sad look that fades as she shakes her head.
"Let me tell you a story." primrose says, softly. "Once, Therion and I traveled together with a companion who was a pox on womankind. That man was, by far, the most charming man that I have ever known, and he meant every word of what he said - only, he never quite understood why women fell at his feet. Therion thought to laugh, when I scolded him for it.
However, he was no better. I said that the two of them together, combined, could make the perfect gentleman. One who communicates too much - and the other, who seems to assume that the other party will understand his intentions without saying a single word at all."
there's a notable pause for effect as she finishes what she's saying - a bit of amusement to the story, lightly told despite it's meaning. "A problem you're familiar with. Though...I wonder if it sounds familiar for more reason that one...?" ]
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hurt comfort for irl hurt comfort
because it's not, not really. a sane and normal person would probably feel differently, or act differently than therion has recently. it's been months, now - the incident with hoolay is long behind them, and for the most part, things have been good. transient as he may be, he's made his way back to jiaoqiu. quietly, he shows his affection, learns to cope with the feeling of handing over his precious trust, bit by bit.
but lately, things have been off. it's a twitchy feeling somewhere in the back of his neck. sore old bones - it never rains in sunshade, but he takes jiaoqiu with him to a greener city along the train line and it pours, and it makes his bones ache with the weight of old injuries, with bitter nostalgia. it's looking at this good thing he has and wondering how it might break, thoughts that become more and more intrusive by the day. he steals things recklessly. sees a wanted poster with his own face on it when he hops to belobog, and in another town in northreach back here, not unusual but no less of a reminder. it's discordant, sometimes, to disappear into the shadiest parts of places unknown and return back to sunshade like he's some kind of normal person, someone with a life, as opposed to what he is. he watches jiaoqiu blossom in the desert sun and wonders how long it's going to be until therion ruins it somehow - or worse, until jiaoqiu realizes that he's not worth the attention or time he's really been given, that he's something or someone to be used. a lockpick. a stepping stone. hardly a person.
therion's barely aware of the rapidly downward spiral he's sliding down, and though he's kept it to himself for the most part, today, there's a catalyst. one of the workers at the tavern had been chattering with jiaoqiu about a cute new area of town when therion came in from his daily walkabouts, pockets a little heavier and footsteps light. he stops for a while to listen to the conversation, keeping a safe, undetectable distance, and eventually, he makes his way over to join him, greeting jiaoqiu and whoever he's talking to with a sup nod and not much else as he sits down and orders a drink. ]
no subject
it worries him, sometimes, to think that therion might not feel the same. that therion could, at any moment, decide that he doesn't want the dead weight. he wonders if the only reason they're still a thing is because jiaoqiu knows about the tavern in sunshade - that it'd be too hard to get rid of him now, because of primrose. most times he can put that away, because therion seems happy with what they have, despite all his grumbling, but. it lingers.
today, he's nursing his own drink as he talks with one of the workers. he's been thinking about this recently - primrose tells him she doesn't mind letting him live in therion's room, and he believes her, but it might be nice to have a place to himself. he misses his little apartment, sometimes. he gave up the lease to it a month or two back, but didn't tell therion. and the thing is, he doesn't notice therion listening when he offhandedly mentions that he gave up his old apartment to the tavern worker - doesn't mention, either, that he didn't tell therion because he wasn't sure how he'd react to the idea of jiaoqiu giving up his old life entirely. it's just that sunshade feels a little better. warmer, he says, kind of a joke.
the new area of town is relatively inexpensive, hoping to coax in new life, and jiaoqiu is... considering it.
when therion slips into the seat next to him, his tail waves gently behind him, as usual. ]
Hello. [ he says, affection in his tone. ] Not too horribly sunburned?
no subject
[ he says, banter for banter's sake, putting his chin in his hand and staring at him - as ever, his neutral face is unreadable, but therion's sarcasm is his normal form of affection, so there's nothing particularly strange there.
he's really not jiaoqiu. in a lot of ways. much as jiaoqiu worries sometimes that he's deadweight, therion worries that he drags him, though he'd never voice it out loud. he'd likely do better living a normal life, even if it'd be bad, at first. he's stolen him away, after all, taken him away from his niece. he never even visits. hoolay's probably gone by now, so it'd be safe for him to go back. he expects it, eventually, that other shoe that's constantly weighing in the back of his mind.
and now he's thinking about it. talking about cute little areas of towns and apartment complexes, affordable, shiny places with big, well stocked kitchens for someone who finds joy in life when he cooks. isn't that what he wants? isn't that what any normal person wants? why wouldn't they?
he regards him for a moment as his drink is delivered - a beer, he doesn't drink heavily and never will, and glances from his companion back to jiaoqiu's face. ]
What're you gossiping about?
no subject
Expansion, I suppose. [ he says idly. the worker is going to say more, but gets flagged down by a couple of patrons, and jiaoqiu shoos him off gently. glances at therion, head tilted. as usual, he's not the kind to do PDA, but he does reach over and rest a hand on therion's arm briefly. he's happy to see him. ]
You've seen the advertisements for the new apartments they're building?
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Yeah. [ nonchalant, as ever. his gaze flicks to the hand that was on his arm and comes back up - he takes a drink of his beer, and raises an eyebrow, a non verbal "go on". ]
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I'd thought about seeing what one would cost. As generous as Miss Primrose is, and as comfortable as I am in our room, I wouldn't mind having an apartment here. [ a beat. ] Though I'd hope she'd still allow me to work in her tavern. I enjoy it.
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there's not any reason to feel bad about it, but that black hole feeling gets even worse - widening, threatening. he glances away from jiaoqiu, back at his drink, expression unchanging, but to jiaoqiu's trained eye, there's a tenseness to him that's rising slowly as the conversation carries on. normalcy. a regular life. a reminder, that they live in the top room of a tavern as a favor, though therion shares profits with primrose and does her favors in exchange, the age old back and forth they've always had. something given, and something taken.
easier that way. ]
Sure.
[ laconic as ever, therion. he takes a long sip of his drink. ]
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a beat. ]
I would like it if you would live with me. [ he says, tentatively. ] ... It's just a thought. I haven't decided.
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I've got somewhere to live. [ a pause, as something occurs to him, and he glances sideways. ] You gonna pay double rent?
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silence, for a moment, as he looks down at his drink. ]
... No. [ and he brings said drink up to knock back the rest of it. ] My lease for my previous apartment lapsed, and I did not renew it. I don't have any desire to go back. I suppose that makes me between homes, for now.
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he looks at him for a moment, silent, taking what he said in. he didn't renew his lease?
there's a huff. guess that's not really that surprising. he did almost die there. ]
Makes two of us. [ he doesn't even really seem mad, is the thing. he just seems off, or at least he seems like he's put up all his walls, again, the iron curtain he had when they first met. ] If you like one, then get one.
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but therion is off. therion is closing off from him, and jiaoqiu does not lose his patience very often, but - maybe tonight, he does, because he doesn't understand what he did or said wrong. this is the last landmine he can brush off - and more than that, his feelings are hurt. so, tone sharp, a lash of a whip: ]
If you would take my offer without biting me first, for once in your life, you could have a home.
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for once in your life, you could have a home, he says. it stings, and the scowl deepens. this could be that turning point, as so many turning points have been passed between them, a place they could reach together, but he's thinking about cliffs and falling and he's not able to make that step. therion keeps his voice low, turning his head to actually, properly look at him, and he says what he knows is going to hurt. ]
I don't want one. [ point blank, just as sharp. mean. jiaoqiu's right; he's a mean dog that bites, even still. ] You ever think of that?
[ it's a lie. it's a self-protecting, desperate lie, selfish words from a selfish little parasite. of course he wants a home. of course he's - having one, having something close to it, has made his heart ache in ways too big for his ribcage, and he's given himself over to it, and he shouldn't, he knows better. ]
I'm not interested in playing house.
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i don't want a home, i don't want to play house, and most of all, i especially want to do neither with you. it's a lie, but it's very easy for someone as worthless as jiaoqiu to believe. it's such an easy, open path to the idea that jiaoqiu has overstayed his welcome. that explains why he never says, out loud, that he loves jiaoqiu, too. it all makes sense. therion's a good person. he wouldn't lie about something like that just to save jiaoqiu's feelings. he'd dodged around it before to stop jiaoqiu from sinking back into the void, obviously.
a pause, clutching the drinking glass tightly. ]
No. I didn't think of that. [ ... ] Then I suppose I must be nothing more than a shackle to you.
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it doesn't make him feel better. in fact, it mostly just makes it worse - but hey, that's how it's supposed to be, right? what did darius ever do but use him. he's no better than that. that's what he needs jiaoqiu to see. he needs him to understand that therion's just as shitty, just as bad, that he doesn't have sharp teeth and toxins and god only knows what else, but all he knows how to do is hurt.
and yet, there's something about that that sticks. a shackle? no. no, he doesn't think that. that's the thing - and no, therion couldn't ever say "i love you" because he was scared. and here, despite his current attempt at pushing him away, he can't bring himself to deliver the final blow. yeah, that's it. just a shackle.
the words are there, but he can't, because he doesn't think that, because despite everything, he's never felt like a shackle. because he's never trapped him - he's only ever offered him safety. comfort. love. he's respected therion's boundaries, his nature, and if therion was a smarter person, he'd stop trying to push himself away from the one thing he actually wants. but all he can do is not choke out the last, cruel phrase, and push himself up from the barstool. ]
Think whatever you want.
[ he pushes the rest of his drink away, back towards the bar, and drops some cash down with it, turning his back. whatever. he doesn't need this. he doesn't need a house. he doesn't need a life. to have those things is just to lose them. ]
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but he is broken, and he is critical of himself, and it's not therion that's at fault, it's just that this is how his entire life has gone. not enough.
(you should sit down, the general and the crow are--)
cunning and patience will get you nowhere if the rest of you is worth less than dirt. so. he watches therion get up and turn his back, and says nothing. he just slides off his own barstool and drifts off to the back of the tavern, towards their room. therion's room. he'll decide what to do later. ]
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not that unusual, really - he disappears for days at a time sometimes. it's kind of the benefit of being who he is, that when he walked into this tavern, he had his whole life slung over his back, and now as he's leaving it, he has the same.
(only... he doesn't. the upstairs room where he's been staying has touches of his life - practical things like extra clothes and food, but the less practical, too. an extra set of earrings, a bottle of black nail polish. a hoodie that jiaoqiu bought that was too big on purpose, that therion stole more often than not. extra blankets for cold desert nights. a hairbrush bought specifically to deal with fur care that therion pretended he didn't buy just for himself to use for jiaoqiu, when they settled together and he'd brush out his tail despite all his complaining. and then there's jiaoqiu himself - a stolen treasure, something he never deserved to have, but the greatest heist he'd ever pulled off.)
in the end, he's gone with the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and his shitty little backpack, off into the night to go fuck off somewhere else, as far away from sunshade and as far away from what he ruined as humanly possible, like maybe that'll make it easier. like maybe it won't hurt, if he leaves it behind. he skips out of the country, the first few days. off for inter-system travel, and then disappears again, somewhere else, again and again.
a week passes with no word. a week and a half. nearly two. not a text message, not an in person sighting, nothing. primrose notices - if she hadn't noticed his general absence, she'd notice jiaoqiu. she's a smart girl, observant. and it's on the eve of the beginning of that second week that she crooks her finger and tells him she's booked him a private service at the end of his shift. something special. some of the others are giggly about it, as they often are.
but in reality, that "private service" turns out to be the private back room of the tavern, once used for any manner of seedy activities, bed and all, and is actually just primrose herself, shutting the curtains on the rest of the world for a while. whether it's successful or not, primrose insists he sit with her for a while, pulls his head into her lap and fixes his braids for him.
she'll avoid the topic for him for some of the evening but, at some point, she sighs, and pulls on a lock of his hair, and says, "I don't know what's happened between you two, but I do know this - men are stupid."
and jiaoqiu may get the feeling that perhaps this a statement mostly directed towards therion.... mostly. ]
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nearly two, and it's likely the worst primrose has ever seen him, really. he shows up to work, but he's shut off. his expression is placid, a smile, but there's nothing behind it. time is a blur, and he finds himself almost fast-forwarded. in front of a stove, looking at where he accidentally burned his fingers. in bed, where he rolled over into an empty space. outside, at the edge of town - unsure how he got there, actually. when he checks his wallet after that one, he finds that he doesn't have one anymore. not that it matters. he doesn't have anybody to buy anything for, so he just stops carrying things around with him at all.
he's late to breakfast service one morning because he doesn't hear his alarm. something in him is terrified at that. the overwhelming majority doesn't care, and he sinks back into the silence, apologizing to primrose when he comes downstairs, gold eyes dead and flat. that's the day that she books a private service with him, and he doesn't have any reason to refuse. so he goes, showing up because he has no other place to be.
primrose is allowed to do whatever she wants. his hair is passable - his braids look like he hasn't touched them in a few days - but his fur around his ears and his tail, especially, are tangled and snarled. he doesn't react much as she braids it, just rests where he's curled up, head in her lap. it should be comforting, but he's distracted by the lighting on the wall. if he stares long enough, it flickers. he's not sure if it's his eyes or if it's the light itself.
it takes him a second to realize that she's said something. you're supposed to reply, he tells himself. right. ]
A wise sentiment. [ he says, voice airy and light. he's good at this. he's good at pretending. ] Women have always been our greatest benefactors. Without them, we would run the world into the ground.
[ but he's distant and not really paying attention to what he's saying. he doesn't want to think about therion, and his empty bed, the black nail polish jiaoqiu is wearing clumsily painted onto claws, the brush that he hid under the bed because he couldn't bear to look at it. ]
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so, thus, jiaoqiu gets dragged off to be paid attention to. she looks down at him as she fixes the braids, undoes them with her clever fingers and combs her fingers through it, finds some of the snarls in his fur and gently picks through those, too, the best that she can. she doesn't know he needs a brush for it in particular. therion learned it from observation.
however, she does sigh when he says this. "Yes. And you are so full of pretty words, as always..."
and then tugs on a piece of his hair. "And not a single thought behind them. " because she is not stupid! she can see you moping!! and in fact, she'll let the silence rest for a moment after this correct accusation, and then add, "You're wearing black nail polish." ]
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not a single thought, she accuses, and his tail flicks once, almost in protest. but he doesn't argue. his eyes are on the growing black hole in the middle of the room. if he reached out, he could probably touch it.
but her observation gets him to pause. ]
... Therion left it behind. [ he says, finally. it's kind of pathetic. ] I haven't... heard from him. I don't expect to.
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"Yes, I thought as much." first, because jiaoqiu does not seem like an emo kid like therion does. she does not say this, but she does think it, and after the pause, she watches jiaoqiu's distant staring for a long moment, and mentally ratshakes therion because this has to be his fault.
"It's been some time, even for him." primrose starts, after a moment, weight behind her phrasing, because she knows him, too. primrose would see therion maybe once every few months, before his arrival with jiaoqiu, but the stretches were down to mere days, and he'd stay for weeks at a time. he left much more behind than just a bottle of nail polish. there's another soft sigh. "Will you tell me what happened? Or shall I guess." ]
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... I am a shackle. [ he says, softer, staring out across the room. ] I suggested that I find an apartment here. I invited him to live with me, and of course he wasn't interested. He won't need to play house any longer.
[ it's been like this from the start - he's always felt bad tying his chain to therion, because by nature therion was not someone who would be happy or satisfied with being stagnant in one place. he shouldn't have mentioned it. ]
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"... typical." yeah, that sounds about right. though, she glances down at jiaoqiu, pausing in her braiding, her voice as soft as always. "And did you believe him, when he said those things?" ]
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a beat. jiaoqiu wrenches his gaze away from the room to look up at her. ]
I don't know what else to do, Primrose. [ he just sounds very tired. defeated. ] He won't say the words. What else am I supposed to think, when everything he says suggests I'm a burden to him?
[ not his actions, though. jiaoqiu knows, somewhere, that actions speak louder than words, and he knows the type of person therion is, but he's gotten to the end of the feeble self worth he's got. eventually, that's going to start telling him that he should stop reading love into how therion acts, no matter how genuine it is. ]
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"Let me tell you a story." primrose says, softly. "Once, Therion and I traveled together with a companion who was a pox on womankind. That man was, by far, the most charming man that I have ever known, and he meant every word of what he said - only, he never quite understood why women fell at his feet. Therion thought to laugh, when I scolded him for it.
However, he was no better. I said that the two of them together, combined, could make the perfect gentleman. One who communicates too much - and the other, who seems to assume that the other party will understand his intentions without saying a single word at all."
there's a notable pause for effect as she finishes what she's saying - a bit of amusement to the story, lightly told despite it's meaning. "A problem you're familiar with. Though...I wonder if it sounds familiar for more reason that one...?" ]
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