invisibilitea | IC CONTACT

Annie.

[He shifts his hand a little, so it's more of a grip.]

You're real. Jesus, Annie, you're more real than anyone I've ever-- I've never had anything like this. It's never been about love, it's come close, but it was never like this. This, this, and you, this is what I need. It's all real.

[She just goes quiet, and holds his hand]

I still wish I had met you then.

[She doesn't like being dead. She knows she doesn't have as much to complain about, but she doesn't like it.]

[Then I would have killed you, or gotten her killed, maybe--and he should just say it, but he can't. Fucking coward that he is. He can't say it to her, not right now.

Instead, he touches his other hand against her cheek, far more carefully--and then he leans in, all at once, and kisses her. It's a good kiss, more sweet than hungry. He's so tired of being hungry anyways.]

[She kisses him back like he's air, and she can breathe him in and survive, and runs her fingers through his hair.]

I love you, I love you so much-

I know--

[He mumbles that, between kisses--not that either of them really need to take breaths, but the instinct is there anyways--]

I know, I love you too, Annie--

[So much so that just saying the words seems somehow inadequate, like there's something else that can prove it to her. Everything he's said has been true. He needs her, just like this, just her--and George, too, but that's nothing like this. When he kisses her, it's cold and steadying; when he's with her, and there aren't any threats, there's no one else--just them--then he hardly thinks of feeding, of hunger, because she's everything. He can put it all to her instead, and he kisses her again, his fingers clenched in her hair.]

[His fingers are in her hair and knotted in her curls and her hands are in his, cupping his skull, and finally, finally, she just leans her forehead against his.]

Please, please trust me, please trust me to stay for you-

[His breath, when he lets it out, is long and ragged; he leans against her, hard, clutching at her, like that's going to be enough to make her stay, to keep her here.]

I can't.

[It comes out low and miserable. He squeezes his eyes shut, his teeth set together. He trusts Annie and George, more than anyone--almost more than he's ever trusted anyone--but in the end, when it all falls away, it will only be Mitchell. Because it will fall away. And there are things they don't know, things that he has to protect them from--both of them--]

I can't, Annie, there's always some part of me-- God, I want to. I want to. I can try.

You have to trust me, Mitchell.

You have to.

[She says it with a need - she needs it, she needs him to do it, because Owen didn't trust her and it killed her - literally - and she can't go through it again, she can't.]

Then you have to help me.

[He doesn't pull away, at all, he holds tightly to her, his eyes still shut. God, what is wrong with him? When did it get to be like this.]

I can try, but I can't-- I can't do any of it alone, Annie. Just tell me what to do. Please.

First, let go, Mitchell.

[She means that she can't do this with him attached to her, and also, she wants to look him in the eye.]

[As first steps go, it isn't difficult. He lets out another breath, just as shaky--but he pushes back so he's looking at her, and drops his hands from where they're gripped at her.]

[She touches his face, fondly, for a moment]

We're work on it, all right? You and I. Together.

[There's doubt--there's always doubt, in him, but when she looks at him like that, he nearly feels convinced. He smiles at her, quietly, and presses his hand to hers, pressing it close.]

Together.

[She takes his hand and squeezes, and kisses him on the cheek]

Come on, let's go back down, and I'll be cross at George.

[Annie being cross can be pretty legendary--so despite himself, despite the fact that he feels slightly sorry for George--he has to smile a little. Or maybe it's the kiss.]

Ah, go easy on him. Think he was even more pissed than I was.

He didn't go easy on me! It's a lesson - don't get so drunk you can't handle yourself, honestly-

Really. You've never been so drunk that you've-- said things you didn't mean t' say? Got so drunk you couldn't shut up? Come on, I know you have. Everyone has. It's like, part of bein' human.

He's not eighteen!

So? There's no age limit on gettin' pissed and saying stupid shit. Believe me.

Are you saying that because you hit a hundred something like ten years ago?

[Well?

Are you????]

[He opens his mouth--squints--and then shuts it, and shakes his head.]

I'm not answering that.

I am a woman, Mitchell.

I can be cross as long as it suits me.

I thought you were through with bein' cross with me! No, look, I'm just-- it's a right of humanity, t' get stupid drunk and say things you regret. Everyone gets that right, regardless of age.

[A beat.]

And the fact that I've had a hundred odd birthdays only strengthens that argument, thank you.

We should have a birthday party for you soon.

[oh my god but he actually just laughs (for now)]

We are not having a birthday party for me.

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