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r α κ ([info]flower) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2012-10-18 01:20:00


Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:octavius pepper, rose knightley

As silly as it seemed, Rose had been quite glad Kendall had made her and Thomas solemnly promise to partake in a food-orientated gathering once a month from now on. With their schedules, and everything that had been going on, she hadn't realized how sorely she'd needed a night of just.... not feeling completely miserable. And laughing, lots of laughing, because that always made things seem a bit easier to deal with. Not that--- it was just--- Rose shut her eyes and shook her head. Today was one of the first days that she hadn't woken up feeling absolutely doubtful and horrid, and she would like to keep it that way.

Sitting further into her chair at the kitchen table, Rose continued to carefully play with the package her brother had owled over earlier. It wasn't unusual, for them to send things to each other every once in a while, but this gift was especially intriguing. It was a large collection of different flavored teas, which she supposed wasn't all that exciting, but upon further inspection Rose had noticed there were some she had not seen (Muggle, perhaps?), like--- Ayurvedic? On the back of the bags there were little blurbs explaining what the names meant, and how the flavors were made, and being a Ravenclaw through and through, it did not take long for her to pull her legs up and rest her chin on her knees in a comfortable reading position.

Somewhere between Oolong and Zocolatte, she faintly recognized the sound of knocks coming from the front door. Part of the reason why she had chosen to live in this building was it's rather impressive security, so it couldn't--- it was someone she knew, it always was. Comforted by that fact, and distracted enough, Rose mindlessly flicked her wand at the door and unlocked it.

"It's open!" she called, eyes never leaving the small print. Acai? She'd never even heard of that before.



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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-18 04:02 am UTC (link)
Octavius had never been more confused over the events of his life than those of the last two months. He'd arrived at the conclusion that fall simply wasn't a very kind season to him, and he ought to quit while he was ahead.

So, naturally, he didn't.

After his birthday, he was left with a lot of unresolved feelings that he didn't understand and wanted nothing more to do with than wrap them up tightly and shove them away. But it was hard to do these things with insubstantial, intangible ideas, so Octavius was left with confronting them head on. And the biggest of all these nebulous worries and thoughts was Rose Knightley, and the terribly wretched way they had left things between them.

He hadn't expected anything from her for his birthday; he'd go so far as to say he wanted nothing from her, as it would only confuse the issue further. But, of course, she had sent him something, and moreover, they were presents that showed him why the two had found their way back to one another, why it was good between them when it was good, and this was all a terrible mistake. Of course, he also realised they had tremendous communication issues, and perhaps there were a few fundamental differences between them that would always confuse the issue, but surely they belonged in each others' lives in some fashion or the other?

That settled the matter; after agonising for days on whether it was the right thing to do or not, he left the station early, picked up a box of eclairs (as he felt silly going almost empty-handed), the thank-you note he'd written (apparently needlessly), a small stack of photographs (showing off the goods, of course), and left for her flat.

"Erm," he started, nudging the door open and starting forward a bit hesitantly. Octavius wasn't sure of his reception, after all. "Well… hello."

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[info]flower
2012-10-18 04:36 am UTC (link)
Her back twisted severely because--- surely her ears were mistaken. That wasn't--- in the past few weeks, she would be lying if she said she hadn't longed to hear from--- but felt quite mixed about--- perhaps just wishful thinking--- she felt her heart practically jump into her throat once she saw him, and Rose clutched the current tea in her hands tightly before letting it fall to the table.

"Octavius!" she squeaked, fumbling to untangle her legs. She looked horrible, what was he doing here--- Rose tugged at the end of her plait and awkwardly jumped forward at the same time, knees narrowly missing bashing into the table. How could she possibly feel overwhelmed? It wasn't, it was just--- she tucked her hair behind her ear, unable to notice the objects in his hands. Was that a bakery box? What-- she hadn't--- been expecting him. At all, frankly; she had been under the impression from their last conversation that he did not want see her until... until... she hadn't been sure.

Now feeling confused in addition to overwhelmed, anxious, and excited, Rose stood awkwardly for a moment. Um.... she shook her head, and then placed her hands over her eyes briefly. That wasn't right.

"Hi," she said tentatively, already feeling second-hand embarrassment for attempting something that looked like a small wave. You didn't wave at ex-boyfriends. She closed her eyes at that thought, finding it still too difficult to swallow. Rose kept close to the edge of the table, in case there would be the necessary need for secondary support.

"What is--- is everything--- what brings you... here?" she finished lamely, unable to think fast enough to use words that did not come off inappropriate or inaccurate to how she was feeling.

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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-18 05:07 am UTC (link)
She looked good, he couldn't help but think, watching her move closer. She also looked… flustered, very flustered. Seeing that response knocked Octavius out of his little stupor and knocked a bit of sense into him. What had he been thinking, showing up here like this, unannounced? What a huge mistake this could—probably would—end up being. Surely he'd hate anyone turning up without a word like this, particularly anyone of the nature he was to Rose. There was a right way and a wrong way to go about things, and he was suddenly very sure this visit was off to a poor start by his presumptions.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out, thrusting the pink box forward. "For dropping in like this, I just—I've been wanting to, and I was afraid I'd lose my nerve if I were to write you or such." Lame, these were such lame excuses, he was such a lame person—

His eyes dropped to the éclairs, and he held it out a little further, his thank-you note stuck on the top of the box. "I'll leave if you want me to, I just—wanted to give you these and tell you… just, thanks, for the, erm—for my birthday."

There was a split-second of silence before he added, even more lamely, "You still get the éclairs, though. If I leave."

Just so she wouldn't think he was trying to bribe her. But as he studied the pink box, he realised that… yeah, that was likely what this was. Witches love pastries.

(They did, didn't they?)

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[info]flower
2012-10-18 08:03 pm UTC (link)
He'd been wanting to drop by? Even through her simmering cheeks, Rose still felt her face perk at his words. He hadn't been---? She quickly buried her budding thoughts, realizing it important to not let her previous understandings take over what was happening now. Or at least, very much. All that mattered was he was here, wasn't it?

"No, no," Rose rushed, waving her hands slightly back and forth. "It's---" What was it? Well, she had no idea how to answer that. So she wouldn't. "Stay," she eased, and reached to take what was in his hands. "Please," she added, in a less flustered tone, because she at least knew she wanted that. "You can stay." She dipped her head after her words, and turned her back to him with the intent of busying herself plating whatever it was that he'd brought.

She slipped the note off to the side on the table, casually skimming it while looking like reaching for a plate, and--- he hadn't needed to do this. She had just--- it was his birthday, she couldn't not have sent anything, and it wasn't as if-- what would she have done with those things, they had always been meant for Octavius (and Gebhard), so... at the very least she could be rid her worry that he might see her gift as a ploy of some kind, or even worse inappropriate. But... Rose closed her eyes and quickly finished transferring over a couple of pastries neatly onto the plate. She pushed it in the middle of the table, between them.

Rose looked at Octavius again, and felt taken by his presence. What did he--- was there--- would that be it? But she didn't want--- "I hope you had a good birthday," Rose blurted, unable to stop herself. "And that the vest fits." Merlin, this was torturous. She waved her hands again, in the vague general direction of the food.

"You didn't need to do this," Rose said quietly, unable to let that thought go unknown to him.

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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-18 10:41 pm UTC (link)
The feeling of relief that welled up in him surprised even Octavius. She was letting him stay, this was good. Perhaps this would go well after all. When she'd relieved him of the bakery box, he sort of sank into a chair and stared at the table top, glad that this wasn't blowing up disastrously in his face, but still completely nervous. He didn't have a strategy or a script this time. Octavius wasn't even certain of what he wanted, just that there was this driving need to—what? See her? Talk with her? Mend matters between them? Reconcile? When he heard her speak, though, his gaze darted back up to her face.

"I did, of course I did," he told Rose. "I did need to, because you didn't need to do that, and you did—and," Octavius swallowed and wiped his palms on his lap, to take a moment. "And I can't help—hating the way we ended things."

He didn't like what the breakup had done to him, if it changed him on some fundamental level. Making him feel bitter towards his friends for their successful relationships, he thought, remembering how he had acted with Nora at his birthday, and being rightfully ashamed of it. That's not who Octavius was, he was the opposite of bitter and cynical. Surely this was the origin of those problems, and he needed to find a way to make it right again, for the both of them.

"So I hoped that we might… talk again." It was an underwhelming statement at face value, but the phrase held a bewildering amount of significance between them. Perhaps they couldn't even be anything resembling friends, but they wouldn't know if they didn't at least try. "If you—if that's something you wanted to do, as well."

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[info]flower
2012-10-19 12:37 am UTC (link)
Rose immediately redirected her gaze to her hands, her fingers already beginning to play with her fingertips in a nervous manner. This was all happening so suddenly, she hadn't--- last time, it'd felt like she had time to think, meticulously plan out her words and loose the ones that weren't well-phrased, but now it was just... she felt the bubbling desire to convey her every tumultuous thought and feeling since they had broke up just because it was coursing through her and she felt desperate to be close with Octavius again.

But that wouldn't--- that wasn't right.

And she knew what she had been thinking for the past few weeks. During their time apart, Rose had begun to think--- that maybe staying apart would be for the best, no matter how much it made her chest ache and tears form because, in the long run, it would.... he wouldn't.... get hurt. By her inability to think clearly and act appropriately, or--- she could force him to move on, and forget about her because she had never really deserved him anyway, and---

Rose felt her face heat up substantially, despite not really having said anything yet. She was getting ahead of herself, Octavius hadn't even indicated--- just because she wanted to get back together and was torn by a secret that would most definitely result in him never speaking to her again didn't mean--- Octavius was always polite and nice.

She slowly began to nod, as she was finding it difficult to think of what to say. What could she say when everything she wanted to say would only make things much more painful? Rose looked up from her hands, finally meeting his gaze. And it struck her, his face, his eyes, his lips that she missed the most, stuck her so much so that she couldn't--- she lost control of her will, and the words slipped from her mouth before she could think anything of it.

"I miss you," Rose breathed, and her chest immediately tightened because she couldn't-- shouldn't be saying things like that. It would upset him, she would upset him again--- "I know that's not--- I shouldn't-- I just---"

Her hand moved to clutch her collar and the lower part of her throat. "I know you probably don't want to hear that," she continued quietly, "But I don't know what else--- to say."

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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-19 04:22 am UTC (link)
"I miss you, too," he said softly, bringing his hand up and making to extend it towards her before thinking better of the gesture. It wasn't that he didn't want to; it was just that pesky confusing the issue… issue. He couldn't think straight when he was touching her, and that wasn't a mistake he wanted to make just now. Octavius instead rested it on the table top and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "But before we—before anything, I have to ask you something."

Octavius thought he'd dwelt on their arguments, the ones neither of them seemed to understand, long enough to make some sense of them, finally. There was a problem with the two of them, he thought, particularly with having already dated the one time. They were missing a fundamental layer in their relationship, the real foundation that nothing but friendship could truly cement. Octavius had always believed the strongest love blossomed out of friendship, and given his rather poor track record with relationships, it was probably time to start following his own philosophy. If Rose wanted the same things, of course. He'd already established his gross tendency towards presumption in thinking he'd be welcome here, and even though Rose had just said she missed him, there was no guarantee she wanted the same things he did. She didn't need him, and he was terrified she'd think of his offer as some sort of condescension when it wasn't, not even a little.

Clearing his throat, he started, "All these days, I… I hate that you're not in my life in some way. But all that we said before still feels true, there's still so much we need to work at. And I want to, I do, and if you—if it's not selfish of me to ask, or really, it is, but you if you'll allow me to ask it," Octavius looked at her anxiously, "I would really like to be your friend, Rose Knightley."

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[info]flower
2012-10-19 07:31 pm UTC (link)
Friends? For a second, she'd thought--- Rose dropped her hand from her front, allowing it to begin fumbling with her fingers again. Octavius had come here to talk to her about being... friends. Friends. Just friends? Stepping down to friends or... using that as an aide to attempt at fixing... she suddenly decided she was too afraid to ask him to clarify, and wouldn't. She had done this before with Thomas, and while their relationship had been much different than hers and Octavius' now, that didn't change the fact that the transition over to friendship had not been easy, mildly disastrous at points, and even now--- one of their fights had essentially been about Thomas, so it hadn't even----

Why were her eyes swelling, feeling damp? It wasn't--- in the end, this was good, wasn't it? Because she wouldn't have to--- she should be thankful that he was offering an option that she'd been unable to come up with, one where she wouldn't have to hurt him, but they could still.... exist. She would not have to endure the past few weeks any further, of not speaking or seeing him like he didn't even exist. So it would be... better. Than that.

It suddenly frustrated her that she was letting her emotions get the best of her, and Rose quickly began to blink frequently to hide away any signs of it. This was... would be for the best. It would.

But could it actually work? That sinking thought had already begun to creep so steadily in the back of her mind, even before she had formally decided to agree to his request---

"Do you really think we can just be friends?" Rose asked quietly, not condescendingly, but honestly because she simply wasn't sure if it could work. He could have bloody suggested anything at this point, and she would most likely agree to it, but understanding, even a little bit, was important.

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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-19 08:20 pm UTC (link)
With a sigh, Octavius gazed down at his lap, admitting, "I don't know." He gave a little laugh, chock-full of self-deprecation, and looked back up. "I suppose we won't, until we try."

There seemed to be one simple choice to make, one simple path to follow, but Octavius couldn't make himself do it. The unknown block he'd spoken of the last time was still there for him, still preventing him from saying, "Forget this all, let's get back together." And it wasn't fair, he knew that, because either Rose wanted more, or she didn't want him in her life at all, yet here he was, trying to weasel his way back into it. Never in his life could he think of doing something as selfish as this, and there had been quite a lot of selfish moments in Octavius Pepper's life.

It didn't mean that he didn't think it could be true, though. Either as a way to mend their romantic relationship, or discovering a new way to stay in each other's life, surely she must see that.

Octavius leaned forward, propping both elbows on the table as he said earnestly, yes, but mostly a little desperate, "Isn't that better than nothing?"

Wasn't it better than too much?

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[info]flower
2012-10-20 03:19 am UTC (link)
She didn't--- have anything remotely impressive to say. And, Rose felt her eyes threatening to swell again, which only made her feel--- stupid, and emotional, because Octavius was obviously perfectly capable of having this conversation, where she felt she could barely keep herself proper enough to form a response. Respond! She had to say something, didn't she? But what could she---

Rose didn't think this was a good idea in general, and certainly didn't think it would work--- but she was too selfish to say that. It would be lying to say that she wasn't desperate to keep him in her life as much as possible, so, she supposed.... he was right. At least; attempting was better than nothing at all, but that didn't mean--- she would not have high hopes. It wasn't-- she had never thought of him that way, and honestly never wanted to. But if that was what he wanted, and he thought it might help....

Rose pressed her palms down on the table, and closed her eyes for a couple of moments to compose herself. "I will try," she spoke firmly, because it was important to do so. But on the inside, even she could not deny feeling her heart break a little with her words.

"I don't know if I can do it, but--- we can try," Rose finished, sticking her chin out and opening her eyes again. Did this mean their conversation was ending? Would he leave now? Or would there be some immediate attempt at some friendship-like activity? How could she feel so torn about wanting Octavius to stay, and wanting him to leave so she could properly cry into her couch?

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[info]dinglealltheway
2012-10-20 04:00 am UTC (link)
"All right," he said softly. And it was. It was good enough—after all, he'd just admitted to himself he didn't know how this would all end, either. It might be the best decision they ever made, for a multitude of reasons, and it could just as easily be the worse, but at least it would be something. Something better than fizzling out.

In a way, it was sad. The first utterances acknowledging they were no longer a couple. No longer was it unsaid, no longer was there vagueness to the classification of their relationship. But he felt a growing happiness amidst the sadness and the desperation, that there was now an excuse to see her, to talk to her, in a way that still let him learn how to mend whatever seams had come apart on them. And that was a very great thing.

"I shouldn't stay long," spoke Octavius after a moment, trying hard to divert the subject. "I cut out a bit early, and left my sister with the goat, and—" He shook his head, trying hard not to think of the disaster that would undoubtedly be awaiting him at home. Instead, he fished in the pockets of his robe and drew out a slightly crinkled envelope in which he'd tucked some photographs. "I thought you might like to see these, though." He slid them across the table to her, and rested his chin in his hand. "He favours the red and gold, so we're pretty certain he'd be a Gryffindor, but he also likes to put it in his mouth, so—though admittedly, not as much as the Jimmy Buffet…"

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