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gasp-iwrotesomething · 4 years

Note

Could I please request some Alex Cyprus. Something angsty.

Sure thing! Thank you for requesting and I sincerely hope you enjoy!

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A simple word had driven a wedge mightier than the gods between them. Clashing and clanging, clinging to whatever ounce of contempt oozed from the other. It was fleeting, the last rays of moonlight as dawn came, replaced by the everlasting love that would shine. Gleam, twinkle--whatever pleasant verb you could think of. It didn’t matter though. That sun didn’t seem to have a dawn to climb or a dusk to fall to; just never ending renewals of an eclipse, darkness, a fog of hopelessness swirling through. Just… no redemption. MC was so drained--had she even slept that night? She took some pills meant to help with sleep but they only made her drowsy and sad; a drooping waterfall of pity and longing. Tears had soaked through her pillow, etching in a spot of her dreary night. How was she supposed to show up to work the next morning? She was bound to see Alex there--there was no way she wasn’t. MC’s eyes water at just the thought of seeing their face--so gorgeous and uplifting on a regular day--stained with the lines and bags of stress, of sleepless nights. Stress that MC herself had given them.

MC had tried to make the declaration smooth and understandable, something simple that Alex could accept no matter how hard it was to. But she’d flunked--ruined it all, gave the wrong idea that she was too naive to fix. All MC wanted was to say that she needed a break--some alone time to better herself and get over this hump she’s experiencing. But it had come out as a break up, like there was another person she wanted but couldn’t have all because Alex was there for her. MC sniffles as she recalls the moment Alex’s worried, compassionate features shattered into something even sadder--helplessness, anxiety, fear… Something wet skids down her cheeks and all of a sudden, MC was crying again. It was so consuming, something that felt uncontrollable and relieving yet ate away at herself, tearing her apart tear by tear and agonizing thought after agonizing thought. She’d lost count at the many times she’s cried--being helpless, a cocoon in her bed. When would she face her fears and set the record straight with Alex? At this rate, that was the farthest possibility on her mind. Alex’s words were burned in her memory--or more specifically, their lack of. Alex had been quiet--almost too quiet--before they said one simple word.

“...Fine.”

The way it was said wasn’t in dismissal--quite the opposite, in fact. It was requited, forced, something they said to avoid undermining MC’s emotions. The word was agreement and yet it hurt more than healed. It tore her apart more than it gave her closure. Alex’s eyes had become glassy and they were blinking rapidly--could it have been tears? A silence then slithered and hissed between them, so thick that MC believed she could choke on it. “If-if that’s what you need, MC,” the demigod had croaked--their voice was already splintering, “then… then I guess I can’t be mad about that.” Alex forced a smile--of course they had forced a smile, why would they let MC feel guilty for the way they felt? Then their exchange ended with Alex giving her a hug for good luck and taking their leave. Even when she watched their back--the dapper grey jacket they wore so nicely, MC could remember just how good they looked in a suit--MC stayed silent, maybe too shocked to come up with a reply. Maybe too cowardly to take that leap, even though she loved Alex. Gods, she loved Alex more than she could even account for.

Why… why had she let herself believe Alex was so expendable? They were worth everything and yet MC let Alex go for the sake of… well, everything.

Not even a minute later, her tears dry up and she’s left in broken heaps of misery. Misery that she brought upon herself. MC reaches for her phone and clicks it on to find that she had shut it off with her and Alex’s last conversation pulled up.

Her heart tugs at the reminder: she’d been wallowing in this misery since last night.

Spacing out to messages from them; some professional, some playful, some sweet. MC rubs her red eyes. Gods, if this is what a break felt like, then MC wasn’t entirely sure she wanted it at all. Alex had been so distraught--so non-reactive, so closeted, so… opaque. It was hard to derive a definitive meaning from their words. Were they really on board with what she wanted? She kept thinking of that somber edge that passed into their features, that lingered even when they attempted to smile. That stayed even after they were gone and she was alone. That probably grew and mutated into their chest the moment MC was not looking. Was Alex looking a lot like she was right now? A mess, with no motive to leave their bed? No… that’d kill her more. MC hopes Alex is at work, doing their job, not wasting the day away worrying and fretting and hurting over MC. She hoped that this feeling and these reactions were all from her--none from Alex.

Later, she calls in sick--a rare occasion.

MC just couldn’t fathom a world where she went to work and met Alex’s eyes without breaking down. She’d confront them, in time. Not now. Now… now she was still trying to puzzle together a better resolve. Something to not hang her head in shame over. Aside from that dilemma, there were no crowning cases to take on as a field agent, everything was mostly little flukes or terse reactions. So she should be able to… take off a day to clear her mind from work. Maybe MC was manifesting excuses… maybe this was a grave mistake. Seconds lumber into minutes and minutes trudge into hours until pressing her phone on greeted her with 7 PM. MC sat at her dining table, her fork caught in the microwaved lunch she had sloppily thrown together earlier. Her appetite had dipped ever since that morning and she’d felt slightly nauseated from all of the self-inflicted worry she was harboring, so eating hadn’t exactly been on her mind like Alex was. Alex, Alex, Alex… They were seated on a throne in her mind, her thoughts bowing to their presence and the overwhelming influence they had on her aching heart. There was a space in her rib cage, a crater just below her heart that sang sadly for Alex, still wanting--hoping--to see Alex’s face behind every door she opened. She dreams of Alex’s knuckles rapping against the front door and their gentle, bittersweet voice pouring through the cracks, asking her to join them for a cup of coffee to talk things through. MC imagined what she’d do, even if it wasn’t true. She wants to believe that she’d be stable, act level headed and be an adult, but MC had the feeling that she’d lose it in front of them. If she saw even the faintest crease of worry or the slightest line of stress on their beautiful face… MC would most likely cry right then and there, letting that shame and guilt and sadness pull her under all over again. She sighs.

Later that night, she dreams of Alex embracing her tight, their lips adhered to her temple, their melody of apologies trickling into her ear. Feeding her that sense of forgiveness and reformation. When she woke, through her wallowing, MC knew what she had to do.

She typed so fast that she must have made a spelling error while typing. MC hardly cared. Alex would understand her message whether or not she misspelled a word. She starts with something simple: hey, how are you? It’s something to persuade Alex to talk to her and work their accumulated issues out through easy conversation; the enigmatic flow of cordial talking. MC rubs her eyes. She had managed to wake up an hour before she would normally wake up for work at H.E.R.A, so there was a good chance that Alex was asleep. However, the typing icon pops up on the screen just a few minutes later, indicating that Alex was awake too. Indicating that they weren’t wanting to ignore her. Good knowing you’re happy, Alex’s text reads, somehow even more barren than MC’s had been. The message felt empty, emotionless, monotone as she read it in her mind. MC felt her heart splinter and crack a rupture right down the center of it, dissecting her in two. MC wasn’t happy--was that the impression she gave them? Had the news been easier to swallow when MC had said all those things about needing a break from them? Has it been even easier to digest it that way? MC couldn’t fathom the idea of Alex convincing themself that MC was happy without their presence at her side; she couldn’t fathom it at all… Shakily, she types out a reply, are you sure?

A few seconds pass, warped to minutes in MC’s stressed tangle of thoughts, before Alex texts, should I not be?

She paused, stunned motionless. It was a simple string of words, as all sentences were, but there was something biting about this one. There was something MC could detect in the phrasing, in the moment of digital silence that walls them apart, that made a trinket of hope bloom in her. Like a tiny flash, or a sizzling orange flare in the dark. No, I want you to be, MC hashes out in swift, pithy swipes, I just think ur lying when you tell me that. It was true; Alex appeared to be tempering their emotions for her, anchoring the sadness to the floor of their vast heart. So much could fill that space, so many articulate thoughts and puzzling ideas swimming, so much unwanted space taken up… In that never ending heart of theirs, they had to have some tendril of sorrow restlessly there. Why did you ask if I’m sure, MC? You act like I shouldn’t be for you. Alex ignores her last text completely. They really wanted to know her intentions. At first, MC misconstrues their soundless tone for annoyance and irritation. But it’s clear the more she inspects that they were just concerned. She could imagine the fissures of worry wrinkling their expression, the slightest bit of tension founding their shoulders and slumping their spine. How heartbreaking that image was to her psyche. MC rids the thought; moping wouldn’t solve her issues. She chews her lip as she responds. I never said that, Alex. I can’t rest thinking you’re unhappy. I want you to prove to me that you’re really, truly happy with the decision I’ve made. Don’t hide anything from me.

MC hoped she wasn’t being brash with that message. But at the same time, Alex had--they had--to understand just how salient their feelings were to her. What was the point of finding solace in each other when neither would talk, would vent, would speak up and converse through their issues? All of this pent up tension and drawn out distance was unnecessary noise, and MC longed to prove how life wasn’t, and could never be, important without Alex. The three, menacingly fluid dots jump in an organized formation. MC holds her breath. It was a familiar pattern now, just as heart-stopping as the first time. Seeing them dance now, MC realizes just why talking in person would be the wrong move for the two of them; she wouldn’t have been able to hide behind a screen whenever Alex thought about a reply, or mulled over her words, or changed their expression… It all would have been too much for her. I still think about you alot. Probably more than I should professionally but I can’t help it. You feel it too, don’t you? It’s why you’re asking if I’m happy. You sense the emptiness.

Each new brittle sentence is sent through individual text bubbles, the change of pace deafening. MC felt that spark of ambition burn brighter, stronger. Alex knew their situation. They knew the absence of each other was more than they bargained for. They knew… they felt that same grasping, selfish greed to see each other again, to fill a void in their insignificant days. This was what her dream was woven from; thick, silky soft threads of mutual agreement and longing, the multi-colored yarn of apologies, love, and trust. Hardships and resilience. Yes, MC hastily agrees, her heart wedged in her throat. She couldn’t will her fingers to glide across the keyboard anymore, uselessly hovering over the scattered letters with no choreography to spell anything out. Maybe there was nothing left to say over the phone. Perhaps confrontation was closer than first expected. It made sense--Alex was now aware that she longed them as much as they desired her, so why not tear down the wall between them?

Then, her phone purrs in her hand for a second, and she reads the next text from Alex.

Think into your decision more then. Let me know when you’re ready and we’ll talk over coffee.

The relief that splashes her is warm and encapsulating, a waterfall of sparkling emotions.

Just know that I love you, they follow-up.

MC can’t restrain herself; she beams up to her ears, her brown eyes shining with happy tears. Thankfully, everything was mending now, scabbing over the worst of their shared gloom.

I love you too.

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Thanks again and I’m sorry for the delay!

If you want to request something, here’s the Prompt List, here are the Guidelines, here’s Who I Write For, and here is where you can Request me.

#alex cyprin #astoria fates kiss

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gasp-iwrotesomething · 4 years

Note

Hey, sorry. I accidentally exited out of the request and it sent before I wanted it to, but can you please do a Dad!Neil Dresner? Where finds out his teenage daughter has a boyfriend? I imagine him to be very protective. Please and thank you. And I love your work.

Sure thing! And thank you for the compliment, I sincerely appreciate it; thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy it, @storiesformc!

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Neil wished he had more time to prepare.

Time to come to terms, to grieve, to miss the little girl Marina was before she got a... boyfriend. The thought was so surreal. Even the silent monologue in his head pronounced it differently. How could Marina, the little girl who wouldn’t go to bed until you recited her favorite bedtime story up until she was 12, have a boy now? The perception of her as a toddler up to her 13th birthday is so ingrained in his head that now each time he sees her cuddled up with that boy... it’s all he can picture. That prompted Neil to be instantly protective--what kind of father wouldn’t for his baby? His wife, however, was ecstatic. She merely squealed and hugged Marina tight enough to crush her, spouting all of this motherly nonsense about growing up and falling in love. Neil was disappointed in her, frankly. MC was his defense always, even when he was slightly off his rocker. But what did he expect? The grumpy doctor fell head over heels for a rebel barely in her 20′s--who ever said gals like her would understand the feeling Neil felt when he pictured Marina and her boyfriend?

That’s right, she wouldn’t know a lick of it.

Neil grumbles as he climbs into bed the following night, Marina’s announcement a boulder in his conscience. No matter which way he pushed or which way he pulled, Neil couldn’t rid himself of that burden of a thought. Marina’s got a boyfriend, MC recites brightly in his memory, her rosy cheeks tugged into a boundless smile, you believe it, Neil? Our baby’s growing up! He buries his scowling face into the pillows while her words play over and over, a broken record in his damned head. Life was simpler when he was just raising a babbling toddler who fell over her own two feet; simpler, but not easier. He could still remember the sleepless nights, the stressful mornings, the constant chatter… Beside him, MC joins him in bed and slips under the covers with him, her once-scarlet hair now deduced to loose brunette curls down to her shoulders. He could sense her eyes on him even with the pillow’s barrier and groans into its soft depths; the judgment was already there. “Neil, what’re you doing?” She sounds stern and Neil scoffs quietly. If only silence could be the answer to every problem you’ve got...

“Nothing,” he mumbles.

MC squints down at him, his muffled words barely reaching. “Take that pillow off your face, I can’t hear you.”

Reluctantly, Neil shifts the pillow aside, the comforting fluff gone and replaced with the dreary pigments of their ceiling--that dull grey was starting to wear away his eyes more than the sun has. He was tired of the color. Maybe a lighter and more vibrant shade would do. “Honey, that frown isn’t saying anything I need to know,” she playfully nudges his arm, a grin spread on her lips, “or am I supposed to take a hint?” He sighs, head turning to his wife. She was a treasure in this bleak room, her effortless charm swamping him totally. Nowadays it was difficult to keep frowning, thanks to MC. Neil didn’t know what to think about that; be grateful or be grouchy. Either or, Neil was glad she was there to talk to--being a single father sounded like hell. “No, I’ll talk about it, just finding the words to not fight with you.”

MC quirks an eyebrow. “A fight? What would I fight with you about?”

“Marina and her new boyfriend,” Neil relents, his eyebrows slowly drawing together as his expression deepens, “I don’t think she should be messing around with no boys at her age.”

The silence that fills the air after he speaks indicates Neil was right; this would brew a disagreement between them.

MC shakes her head. “Marina’s 16, Neil, just 2 years shy of being a woman. It’s about time you give her some freedom, the girl’s got some exploring to do.” She slides under the covers while pinning Neil with a stern stare, the diamonds of her eyes glittering in the dim moonlight. But Neil didn’t pay no mind. Sure, Marina was on her way to be a woman but that road was 2 years long, which left a window open of her still being a kid--of her still being Neil’s little girl. “Maybe, but you heard her, they’ve only known each other for a week. A week! How are you not on your toes when you hear that, MC?” He gives her an incredulous glance. How was he supposed to take that expression? Over time, wrinkles and creases formed on MC’s pale face, so now her frowns always seem deeper and her smiles more animated. He could faintly see the disapproval on her lips, in her eyes, all focused intently on him. He imagined that he appeared the same way to MC. “A week is a good enough time to fall in love; say, we fell in love within the span of a couple months and look where we are now. Who are you to judge when love is love?” She hisses gently, the soothing hiccup of her accent coiling around her sassy tone. Apparently MC was caught up on the part where Marina cried “love!”, but who knows if she’s just blowing their passion for each other out of proportion? Still, even after MC’s rebuke, Neil’s opinion is unchanging. “Our little origin story isn’t comparable to this, MC. Love can form when it has enough time to grow or else it’ll crash and burn. We worked out because we let our love prosper and thrive before diving into each other’s gullets,” he remarks, gruff and headstrong, about as willing to back down as MC was.

“Defining what you think is ‘true love’ isn’t going to help you win this. Everything’s different for everyone.”

“No, maybe not, but if it keeps Marina safe then I’ll be cracking open my damn dictionary.”

MC scoffs, pinching him quickly, “who said you couldn’t watch her back? You’re her daddy, Neil, you can look out for her while letting her live a little!”

No one speaks after her brief exclamation, the tension drawn tighter by the evident frustration the both of them faced. They never argued like this. Usually they’d disagree, talk, and smooth over the wrinkles, but now… Now they were determined to rough up their resolve before they even tried to be civil. After a couple seconds more of deep, stabilizing breaths, MC relents with a quiet sigh and cuddles up to Neil, her features now softened into a concerned furrow of her brows. She braces her hand on Neil’s chest, her fingers warm and tender to his flesh. “Listen, honey, I know how you feel--believe me, I do--but you’ve got to be more realistic. Whether you accept it or not, Marina’s getting older and closer to being on her own, she’s got to learn to think for herself. She’s a smart cookie. She’ll make for a fine independent woman, thanks to you. But now, I think you should give her a shot; see how this ship rocks with her new fella, you know?” MC pats his chest, a small assuring smile on her face. Neil mulls over her words. Maybe she was right in a way; maybe… maybe he was being a little too overbearing at times with Marina. But you couldn’t hold that against him, he loved his daughter. She was his world from the first breath down to these very seconds. Nothing’s changed except that she’s older, maturing, expanding into new walks of life that wouldn’t have suited her then. Marina was still his bundle of joy and he was still her caring, grouchy, sarcastic dad.

Even if it meant handing her away to some boy, Neil had to be supportive and at least mindful of her wishes, her desires.

Sighing, Neil winds an arm around his wife’s shoulders and brings her closer to him, close enough to smell the serene aroma of her berry-scented shampoo. She relaxes into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “...I’ll think about it, MC,” he could feel her cheek move as she smiles softly against him, “but it’s going to take some time for me to… adjust to this whole ‘growing up’ thing.” It was true. Daily, Neil would see Marina at the dining room table and wonder just when in that 16 year gap she grew taller, prettier. Marina wasn’t very tall but she reached Neil’s collarbone standing beside him. She was a brunette--go figure--with most of her prize-winning features taken directly from her father, Neil. Maybe that was why he was so protective and nurturing to her, they were so alike side from her mother’s energetic personality; well, that and she’s their only child.

He always had a feeling that she’d grow up to be beautiful, and seeing that unfold now, Neil was right in every facet imaginable.

“Thank you,” MC murmurs under the blanket of the shimmering moonlight, “I can tell this isn’t easy for you but I’m proud of you for trying.” He rubs her arm soothingly, allowing the tension to dissipate and fall into the background as he kisses her head. “I’m not exactly volunteering to do this but… I appreciate the sentiment, Mrs. Dresner.”

That claps the silence between them right where it stands, the both of them dissolving into a brief fit of laughter. Even if it would probably take the soul right out of him, Neil was willing to try--for his daughter and his wife.

He just hoped no no-good meathead would have to ruin this bliss for any of them, or else the doctor might have to shed his nurturing duty for a little bit.

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Thank you again and I’m sorry for the wait!

If you want to request something, here’s the Prompt List, here are the Guidelines, here’s Who I Write For, and here is where you can Request me.

#neil dresner #speakeasy tonight

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