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Magic Box, Wednesday

Andrew knew he should probably seek out Mr. Giles at some point to apologize for his previous absence, but that could wait. Right now he was hoping for a nice low-key first day back to work after having been gone for a few weeks.

He still had a lot on his mind.

The Magic Box was open!

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Ping in here to interact with Andrew before Lunch.

Andrew slowly made his way back into the Magic Box a little over an hour late from his lunch break. He was still numb and confused over what had happened (http://community.livejournal.com/fandomtownies/2785047.html?thread=121081111#t121081111) with Liir.

He walked over behind the counter and sat down behind it so no one could see him. At least his stomach had settled, though he could really use a mint.

Not too much later, Liir trotted through the door. He looked windblown and out of sorts.

"Andrew? Andrew, are you here? Please be here."

The last was almost a whisper.

He didn't move right away, unsure of if he really wanted to face Liir at the moment. So he compromised, slowly standing up, but not turning around. More just standing there with his head in hands, still in shock over, well, everything.

He swallowed and considered what to say. Nothing seemed to be working right, nothing he said seemed to get him what he needed. His words weren't working.

So he stepped up and very very slowly placed his hand on Andrew's shoulder, as he'd touch a startled rabbit.

"I love you. And I'm sorry. And I missed you. And... that's the only important things. For me. Anyway."

Andrew flinched at the touch and instinctively took a step away, cringing, because on the most basic level, a total product of conditioning, he was expecting to get hit.

But it was foolish, as Liir's words confirmed, and it added to his guilt.

He didn't react to the move except to pull his hand away. Slowly.

"I don't want us to... stop being us. Ever. Things just..."

It didn't matter. He stopped himself.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I never, ever wanted to hurt you. I never" he swallowed, "ever wanted you to think I'd hurt you."

Andrew relaxed a bit, hugging his arms tightly to himself. He kept thinking back to his conversation with Luke yesterday and Karal all those weeks ago. "Do you think, maybe, um, do you think we got in too deep too early?" he asked quietly.

He shook his head.

Then he realized Andrew couldn't see him.

"No.

"I don't know any other way to love someone. Especially you."

"It's just that, well..." Andrew looked up at Liir. "You scared me. And I know that it was my fault, that I deserved it..." Did he?

"But I never thought I could be scared of you."

"No," he said tiredly, scrubbing at his face. "Not all of it is your fault. Things just kind of piled up and without you there..."

He shook that off.

"But I-- how did I scare you?"

He honestly didn't understand that.

It was the emotionless tone, the coldness, the complete and sudden lack of Liirness that Andrew had become accustomed to, had come to cherish. It was like Liir was suddenly an entirely new person, or, perhaps, that Andrew was seeing the true Liir for the first time. That is what scared him, his own parochial vision coupled with unexpected anger from the one he loved.

"It was..." He shook his head. "You threw your spoon. Because of me."

He utterly deflated.

"I threw my spoon because it had to go in the sink. If it was a little harder than I intended, it was because I was just..."

He closed his eyes, tried to collect himself when he felt like it was all falling apart again, a thousand little glass pieces with sharp little edges that didn't want to stay up, didn't want to stay where they were put.

"Whatever you want, Andrew. Whatever will make it better. Anything. Your laundry. Your linens. Anything you want, Andrew. Anything I can do or say or--

"You weren't talking and I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do, Andrew. I can't unthrow the spoon. But anything else. Anything else, I swear, I'll do it. I'm sorry."

Everything was a whirl of uncertainty. What if he messed up again? How angry would Liir get the next time? Andrew didn't know if he couldn't handle being the focus of it all -- walking on eggshells, afraid of making a mistake that might somehow imply Liir meant less to him than he did.

"My laundry?" Andrew's look bordered on incredulous. He almost laughed, but the tears came first. "My laundry," he whispered to himself.

What does it take to be the pinnacle focus of someone else's life? To have that person be the center of yours?

And was he ready for that?

"I-I need to think," he said softy. "I need time to think."

He took another step away from Liir, placing a hand on the counter to steady himself, closing his eyes and willing the world to stop shifting.

He swallowed.

I should have known. I should have known. I should have known.

He stepped back and looked down, not at his feet but at the backs of his eyelids because seeing anything other than blackness would break him. Anything, anything at all--

He breathed in, straightened up, and shoved his want and need and what would be a breakdown as soon as he could give it the room it deserved down into the pit of his stomach and looked Andrew in the eye.

"As you wish," was all he said, suddenly understanding how a bucket of water could kill. How you could let yourself melt and dissolve and go away. He wanted nothing more at this moment.

"You know where to find me."

But he couldn't keep it there, couldn't keep it down and it bubbled up, bubbled out of him as a tear dripped out of one eye.

"I'm sorry I can't be happy for you. I should be. You finally figured it out." His shoulders shook. "Finally" he coughed and took another step back as a second tear joined it, unnoticed by Liir, "finally believed me."

Edited 2008-05-15 12:44 (UTC)

Andrew didn't understand what Liir was saying. It just blended into the surreality of the moment, a buzzing in his ear that would wiggle down later to rip his heart apart.

"Just a little time," he whispered again, unable to say anything else.

A new truth then. One he hadn't been told, one he hadn't been given, one he hadn't heard on the wind or from a broom or from a cloak. One that came right from his heart, from the fragile tower of glass at his center.

I ruin everything.

"Follow your heart, Andrew," he said quietly as he took another step back. If he'd known who Schroedinger was, he'd have said his mind was like such a box. He didn't dare look in now.

Everything Ino had said, everything she'd told him-- wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. It was his fault. His mother's death was his fault. His father's death, no doubt, was also his fault; he could see it now, could see the intrepid Prince running afoul of the Gale Forcers when he'd sought out his pregnant beloved. Sarima, her sisters, Nor and Irji: he'd let them be taken, even the Witch had said so. And Manek... He had magic, after all. Perhaps he'd made the icicle fall even while asleep. He'd been able to learn plenty in his dreams, after all.

Another step back.

And now Andrew, looking so hurt, so damaged. His fault. Everything was his fault.

Another step back.

"Let it lead you away from me before I ruin you too..."

And with that, he fled, the broom forgotten at his hip as he pounded away and out the door on foot.

Everything dies. Everyone leaves. His truths. Forever and always his truths.

Because it's just unsightly without it.

Edited 2008-05-14 17:21 (UTC)

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Magic Box, Wednesday

Before Lunch

Post Lunch

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OOC