Conversations Without Words.
Summary: They held conversations without words, because when it came to speaking, neither of them could ever say the right thing.
A series of one-shots depicting the various incarnations of Casey and Cappie's relationship. Some will be connected others will be standalone's.
For now the rating is T - it can always go up ( or down) with the coming chapters.
Selfishness vs Fate
She wonders whether it is selfishness or fate that keeps landing her on his door step. The bitter knowledge of her current social position in the sorority has her learning toward the former, and she's only too sure that Rebecca and Frannie would be eager to point that out. And it is selfish; she is selfish. Here on the porch of the Kappa Tau's, only hours after her relationship with Max met its demise , she sees this clearly, and with a heavy sense of resignation she mentally gives Rebecca a congratulatory handshake: " You were right Becky dear, I am nothing if not incredibly selfish". The words ring true, inside her head and muttered quietly into the cold night.
In retrospect every move she has made as been about her: Her goals, her social ambitions. It's always about Casey. Casey, Casey, Casey. And in this moment, being perfectly honest with herself, there is no one she is sicker of than Casey. Casey is a selfish, lying, manipulative, bitch, who can't step out of her own fucking bubble so she destroys the relationships around her, Ashleigh, Cappie, Rusty-even her relationship with Evan stemmed from her selfish motives.
The door behind her creaks open and she listens hard for the soft footsteps that follow. She knows it's him: She feels his presence, hears his soft sigh and wants nothing more than to turn around and take the comfort she knows he will offer.
His voice is a whisper of a caress, carrying through the air around her and she shudders. She wants' to turn around, so, so fucking badly. She wants to return his vocal touch with a tangible one of her own. But everything now seems lost in her sea of selfish motives and she becomes unsure of her own intent here. She can't risk it, can't let the selfishness win and risk the chance of Cappie waking up alone with her bra wedged between the bed and the wall. She can't be selfish and do this one more time to him, one time too many.
But she is moving before she can hear the rest of his words. Every muscle in her body screams in protest, she feels physically ill; her stomach nauseous, her chest as if something was being ripped out. She doesn't turn around, though every fibre in her being wants to.
Her cheeks begin to feel damp as the tears fall freely now. She wants to turn around.
But tonight in an act of selflessness she does not turn around, she keeps on running, and it is only on the steps on her own porch that she wonders if this is selfish too.
She wonders whether it is selfishness or fate that keeps landing him on her door step. Part of her knew that he would follow when she fled, but the other part of her had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice the sound of his footfalls as he chased after her.
Now he is behind her once again, his eyes burning holes in her spine as she burns holes in the door.
His voice is louder now, she picks apart the tones: concern, love and the tiniest bit of irritation. The latter note encourages her, she needs this, she needs his anger – deserves it after all she's done to him.
Immediately she wishes she hadn't. Confrontations were so much easier when she didn't have to hold his gaze.
She opens and closes her mouth, but her brain it seems, is refusing to supply the words needed.
Cappie says nothing; his face is unreadable, impassive almost as he peers at her. She knows he sees the tears by now, if this were any other night he'd be wiping them away by now. But this feels different, she feels different, as if her actions back at his porch had set things in motion; he must feel it too.
Several tense moments slip by, but for once she finds herself unable to take any sort of initiative- she is unable to move, save for the slight twitches of her hand as her body reacts to his proximity. He sighs, clearly aware that the ball is ,for some reason or another, in his park. Her eyes follow him as he steps forward and seats himself on the steps. She feels dazed, and it is only after a good minute of him patting the space beside him that she realizes that he is motioning for her to sit as well.
His hand makes its way to her back and although she feels selfish for wanting- needing- his care she makes no move to push him away, instead she loses herself in the motions of his hand as it moves in soothing circles. Something in him knows her too well, knows she needs comforting and knows she'll speak when she's ready. He stays silent and when her voice reaches into the night she is surprised by the words that fall from her lips, for once not over thinking each syllable, just speaking – not from the heart, she is not there yet, but just simply stating herself as best she can.
"Cappie, I am so sorry" She stares straight ahead, knowing she wouldn't be able to finish if she can his reaction. She feels it though as his hand stills on her shoulders.
She continues, taking comfort in the fact that he hadn't removed his touch entirely.
"I'm just so, so sorry. For everything I put you through"
He laughs; the sound is new to her. It is bitter and harsh and she wants nothing more than to soothe him into his usual carefree chuckles. He sighs then and she can feel him turn to face her, she doesn't turn back just yet.
"Where's this coming from Case? You've been so different lately – what's going on?"
A new surge of self directed anger fills her; here he was being attentive again and instead of feeling comforted she feels nothing but the acidic burn of her selfishness.
She tells him so, moving out of his grasp as she does.
"Don't Cappie, please don't. I don't deserve your comfort right now. I just ...I. Look I've been doing some thinking recently and fuck Cappie, I've been awful to you" She exhales deeply before continuing.
"I've used you so much, and you've done nothing but accommodate my selfishness. You don't deserve this."
He sighs and she can feel him shift uncomfortably beside her.
"You know what Case? You're right"
He sighs again and she stops breathing. His answer though necessary, though expected, was too much. She stands suddenly, unable to take it, unable to take him, herself, everything. She is shaking, hyperventilating, and the tears are coming so fast now she can't see straight.
Suddenly his arms are around her, coddling her, restraining her retreat in the most gentle, perfect way. She struggles and he holds her, she struggles and he holds her until she falls limp into his embrace. And then there is just breathing, the warmth of his breath near her ear, and the sound of her ragged gasps as she fights for her self control.
His voice breaks the pattern and she finds herself leaning into the sound of it.
"You know, you always had trouble letting me finish. Look, I didn't deserve what you did to me, no one does. But these are the things we risk for love Case. This cycle we've gotten ourselves into, it's unhealthy but it's not your fault. You may leave in the morning but it's not like I've really tried to stop you."
He laughs this time, and it is weary but free of bitterness.
"The point is I don't deserve this, but you don't either. You don't deserve to beat yourself up for something like this. The way you see yourself, it's not right. What is selfish is you wallowing inside your self pity instead of taking the help I'm offering."
She closes her eyes as he plants a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"I know I am going to get hurt, but I know you hurt too and I know I'm the only one that can stop you from hurting yourself. So this hurt..."
He pulls away, his arms holding her shoulders until she is facing, fully looking at him with nothing in the way. He is smiling softly and she thinks she feels herself trying to return it.
"This hurt is worth it. This is just how life, love, fate, whatever has decided to play its cards".
She bites her lip, not quite ready to let go her of selfishness.
"But what about-"
He pulls her in again, and she finds herself happily drowning in his embrace.
"Stop Case. Stop worrying, stop over analyzing. All I know is that we hurt each other, badly, in ways neither of us deserve. But when we're apart, that what hurts worse."
She feels ridiculously melodramatic, but somehow it doesn't matter. Nothing is fixed- she still hurts, with the knowledge that he does as well, and there is the reality of Max and Evan and all her problems that will greet her in the morning-yet at the same time none of it matters and everything is fixed.
She wonders whether it is selfishness or fate that keeps landing her on his door step. Perhaps it is both; perhaps she is just a selfish girl, defenceless at the hands of fate.
And then none of it matters. Only the feeling of his arms, of his breath on her ear and the soft sigh that escapes her as she hugs him tighter.
Thanks for reading and as always REVIEWS ARE THE BREATH OF LIFE and are always appreciated.