#canaan likes guys but then julia exists and confuses the hell out of them poor guy

[dogueteeth-fhr]

34 for whump prompt?

34. “You promised not to leave.”

(Canaan & Julia. Some night post-retibution, in a bar.)

It reminds them far too much of the old days.

Sitting at the bar with Anathema, sharing a scotch and whiskey, watching Julia dance. Complaining to Themmy how much she annoys them. Smiling when Julia looks over her shoulder to make sure the two of them are still having a good time.

Sighing and rolling their eyes before playing the hero, rescuing Julia from making a fool of herself before she starts making out on the beer-stained floor with whatever handsome fish she started grinding on in the ocean of a dance floor.

Holding her hair back as she puked into the toilet, after, hands gently stroking through dark curls as they remind her that, no, they are not Mama Elena, and yes, they'll stay with her. And they would. Stay all night. Watching her sleep on the couch, already having wiggled herself halfway off of it, wondering if it was normal to do this kind of thing for a friend. Wondering if friends were really what they wanted to be.

Dead times, and a dead person's memories. Feelings that died before they could bloom.

And yet, still. The memories and the people behind them haunt Canaan in the form of Ortega, older, more wrinkled, shorter hair and weathered eyes, giggling drunk and staring stupidly at them. She's so damn lucky she dragged Cain back into her life or else they would've called her an idiot and left already. She was always far too good at making them care.

They never should have cared about her.

"Why'de you makin' tha face, Caaaaaain?" She coos, finger aiming to poke their face and ending up in the uneaten chili chips instead.

She won't remember anything about tonight.

Not when she's like this.

She'll puke out the rot, wake up, and move on.

Just like she did back then.

"Do you remember that night at your apartment you pulled me into bed with you?"

Maybe that's why it feels safe to say this.

"'Course I do," she sniffles, finger sliding against a napkin as she attempts to sit upright. She hangs halfway off the chair, and Cain's hands stay firmly laced as she curses and almost falls the rest of the way. Her voice is oddly soft, and Canaan hates that. Who gave her the right to feel soft about this? "I don't think I could ever forget."

"How funny," Cain scoffs, shoving the chili chips back. She'd remembered to get vegan chili. "You conveniently forgot everything you said that night, though."

Every promise she'd made, delirious and smelling like beer, and maybe it says something about themself how much comfort they found in that. Words poured with liquor as if the courage they brought came with truth.

"You promised not to leave."

The words are bit, snapped, stale bread between yellow teeth. Cutting gums on the way in, leaving an after-burn on the roof of their mouth. They'd been drunk, then, too. Does it hurt more or less that Julia doesn't remember the kiss? It never meant anything.

"You promised me, and then you left me."

They just wanted to be wanted again.

They just wanted to believe that they could be cared for. Loved. Desired. Cherished.

Human.

"You promised not to leave."

There's tears dripping down their face, and the patrons have long turned to mind their own business. The dance floor suddenly is far more amusing than unsipped drinks tonight. The walls feel tight on Canaan's skin. The spilled beer smells like burnt hair. A redhead screams in their peripheral. Joyous. Frantic. They're alone. So, so alone. All of them. Every single one in this bar, so, so tired of not belonging. It's so exhausting. What if they all just—

There's lips on their forehead. Someone is shouting in the background, many someones, many people fighting, but Julia doesn't move. She's not their hero tonight. Julia's lips are on their forehead, arms cradling Canaan's shaking shoulders in a tight squeeze.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, breath reeking of beer, and Canaan sobs. "I'm sorry."

Canaan wishes that they were wise.

That they learned their mistake the first time.

That her lips weren't just as soft as Canaan remembers.

She will leave again some day.

And this time, it really will be their fault.