SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. we try not to go longer than a month, but royaiweek is a blessed holiday and none other like it. We appreciate the wonderful comments and reviews so far and look forward to them after every chapter. even if we can't get to them all, the love for this is honestly... wonderful and amazing, despite the nature of this story. thank you so much again.
you are not made out of metaphors / sarah kay, the type
"You're not giving me much to work with here," Rebecca whines. "I don't understand why you can't just explain to me what's going on? Why are you moving out?" She trails Olivier around the apartment, purposely getting in the way as much as the boxes and movers are in her way. And Olivier...
Olivier is like this giant wall of ice, cold and silent, and somehow manages to replicate the properties as well. Even as the morning sun sneaks in through the windows and open front door and warms the place, the temperature inside their flat is downright glacial, creating this inhospitable environment where nothing gets said.
The shrill sound of tape unwinding fills the room as Olivier pulls on the end harshly. She doesn't even look at her when she seals yet anothercardboard box up. "I told you already. Ask Riza."
Rebecca groans, and runs a hand through her hair, grimacing briefly at how greasy the roots feel. "If I could! She's not answering her phone. I've tried her like, a million times already." She looks down at her phone: it's not even ten in the morning and the stupid thing is already down to thirty percent.
A snort comes from Olivier's direction.
"If you know something, just tell me." Her hands are thrown up and slap immediately down to her thighs. To make matters worse, her phone slips from her hands, clattering noisily on the wood floor, as if the entire universe is out to get her. She dramatically swipes it up with another frustrated groan, especially watching Olivier exit the room, and she stomps after her, unwilling to drop the subject just yet.
If Olivier is going to be an immovable object, then Rebecca Anne Catalina will transform herself into an unstoppable force as stubborn and willful as her good hair. She refuses to be beaten, especially now that there's important information dangling in front of her. She huffs. "She was supposed to see her dad yesterday and she hasn't been home yet. My eyes are literal puff balls, Olivier, literal puff balls. I don't even know if she's okay or dead or-" she gasps dramatically, pointing an accusatory finger at her vacating flatmate. "You didn't kill her, did you?" The question is geared more towards a joke, but in all honestly, she wouldn't put it past Olivier to kill someone if she felt it was necessary.
Olivier makes a face and pointedly tells her, "No. Don't be stupid."
"How is that stupid? What am I supposed to do or think or feel if neither of you are talking to me?" The whining has crept back into her voice but Rebecca can't find it in herself to care very much. She hates being left out of the loop, and the lack of forthcoming information from either of them has tipped over from being merely a nuisance to downright worrying.
She shrugs callously. "Figure it out."
"Olivier, you're supposed to be my friend."
"And currently, that friend is in the middle of moving out and busy." She turns away from Rebecca to point and instruct the men with her how to handle her belongings.
"But why? Can you just tell me what happened?" Olivier offers no indication that she's going to pay her any more attention so Rebecca calls Riza's phone once more, sends her another frantic text thats reads "u better have a good explanation why ur bringing me to an early grave!", and is absolutely beside herself to see her battery drop to nineteen percent. She grumbles all the way to her room about stupid technology and stupid phones and what the fuck, world?! Dealing with her parents and acting as a translator who never got past the fifth grade level in Creta, that was a sensible problem and anticipated headache of her break. There was nothing that could have helped her anticipate coming back to a flat half-packed up with both her friends unwilling or unresponsive to explain what had led to this new development.
Rebecca frowns entering her room, deftly avoiding the piles of clothing scattered across her floor with practiced ease. She flops on her bed to plug in her phone to its charger, and listens to Olivier intermittently bark out orders to the movers. Why won't you tell me? What aren't you saying? Riza left no note, no message, no indication of where she would be, where she was, or where she was going. It's difficult imagining or predicting where she could be for someone as systematic as Riza. A homebody to boot. Olivier was of even less help, and she was in the damn building.
She deflates, exhaling. Ignorance never settled well with her, and it pisses her off because somebody could just put her out of her misery and simply tell her. But no, all she can do is guess. She's wondered all night what could have happened, but each scenario seemed even more unlikely than the last. It would have had to been something big, something cataclysmic - but what could be that monumental, that earth-shattering that it would keep Riza away and for Olivier to make a spontaneous decision to just move out?
Her train of thought is derailed when her phone blinks from notifications from people she doesn't want know about. Set on leaving a very wordy - and possibly weepy - voicemail this time, she tries for Riza again and by a sheer miracle, it doesn't go immediately to her answering message. Rebecca springs up just to be yanked back down because of the cord but through her other ear she hears a confused voice ask, "What's... going on?"
Her fingers cancel the call and a rush of excitement washes over her along with a strange prickle of uneasiness. She slows down in the hallway when she can make out two voices talking angrily to each other, but there's so much noise from the movers and the truck outside that she can't make out the words, only the tone. Rebecca quietly enters the living room, now much emptier than before, except for the couch. She easily spots Riza, disheveled and puffy-eyed herself, in the middle of a glaring match with Olivier. She's never seen so much ire out of Riza; the only other time Riza came close to that body language in the past was the one time she felt excessively competitive in recreational archery, and that moderate-to-high level of contempt from Olivier is usually reserved for useless drivers in traffic, but never at ...friends.
"- can't hide where you've been. Where'd you get the sweater from, hm? Professors R Us?"
The last part is lost on Rebecca but she doesn't catch its meaning. She's still processing the scene before her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say there's a hint of a snarl on Riza's lips. "Yeah. It helps when I have to deal with the frigid bitches around here."
The smile curling on Olivier's lips is devoid of any remaining affection and it hitches in a way that exposes her teeth. "Remember what I said. Don't come wailing when it's a mess all around your feet and you've managed to get Rebecca involved in it. God knows you'll be sorry then."
Riza mirrors her strange not-smile. "Thanks for the legal advice. Say hello to Alex for me."
Olivier lets out a derisive grunt and turns her nose up and away from from the other woman. The difference in their heights and body language make it look like an excerpt from some comedy sketch or children's dramatic play...but Rebecca doubts that this is some elaborate prank.
Rebecca jumps when her name is shouted in the booming voice only Olivier can have, but rarely uses. "What the shit, Liv. I'm right here."
Riza sees her lingering where the living room wall corners into the hallway. "Becca." She says her name softer than Olivier. The meekness isn't a surprise, but it's how quickly she managed to change her expression, like she didn't expect Rebecca to be there to see her like this.
Olivier looks around the room before rolling the sleeves of her sweater down as she walks towards the front door. "I'm going now," she announces loudly, scooping up her Hermès bag up off the set of drawers in the entranceway. She looks back at Rebecca one last time, fingers curled tightly around the heavy wooden door. Olivier pauses for a moment, almost as if she were hesitant, but any lingering doubts disappear from her face as her eyebrows are drawn tightly together once more. "You have my number in case you need a place to stay tonight."
And then she leaves, the door shutting behind her in the familiar way Rebecca has heard countless times before.
A jarring silence is left behind, hanging over the common room. She can't say it's uncomfortable, but it's definitely unfamiliar for both of them to be in the same room and not speaking as they were. Riza is still, looking at her as calmly as she can manage but Rebecca knows her well enough to know when some of that is merely a front. "What... is... happening?"
"Rebecca, I can promise you I didn't expect anything like this to happen." Riza's voice is fast - not frantic, but with enough emphasis to make her pause. It didn't take long for the front to wobble, but it's still there.
Rebecca nods slowly, walking over and resting her hands on Riza's shoulders. For a split second, she notices how tense she feels under her palms. "I sure hope so! I've been worried about you all night! You weren't answering your phone. Olivier refused to say anything. I'm left in the dark. Where have you been? Did something happen with your dad?" She impulsively grabs Riza's head and pecks a kiss on her forehead, relieved, in the middle of her questions. "What are you wearing? Is it your guy? I'll kill him but you gotta tell me first."
Riza blinks slowly. "Olivier... didn't say anything?"
Rebecca shakes her head firmly, drawing Riza in close and rubbing her back affectionately. She steps back to expressively tell her saga. "No. It's been killing me since I got home yesterday. Imagine me, exhausted from jet lag and a weeklong trip with Mr. and Mrs. Catalina. And then - boxes lined up against the wall. For a hot second, I thought I was getting evicted. Then, I saw you weren't here, so I thought you were getting evicted. But it was just Liv's shit. I asked and I asked and I asked and she would only give me vague answers and tell me to talk to you. That you were hiding something, that you weren't being honest, that I'd be in trouble because of it."
Her friend closes her eyes with a sigh, shoulders sagging. Quietly, she says, "Hopefully you had a good trip."
"That doesn't even matter right now." She swipes her hand across the air to gesture the topic of her trip off the table. Riza's reaction does nothing to reassure Rebecca of her worst conclusions. "Is it true... have you been hiding something from me?"
Riza looks up, an expression akin to shame cresting over her face, and Rebecca might as well play the lottery today because that's another expression she rarely sees on her. Riza nods slowly, chewing on her lower lip.
Rebecca pulls her over to the couch that Olivier left behind for some unknown reason - the TV or console that used to be in front of it now on the back of the moving truck, going places unknown. "How bad is it? Is it that bad?"
Riza exhales noisily, smoothing out the fabric of her jeans. She's nervous too - not a good sign. "Potentially? Yes." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "If things were to play out in the wrong way, the ramifications could be…" she raises her eyebrows "...enormous."
This entire time she's been cautious and mindful of Riza's little tells, but it's taking a great deal of willpower to not blurt out "what the fuck did you do?" She tries a gentler approach, hopefully one that will be reassuring to them both despite her own simmering unease. "Okay… as long as you didn't kill someone - well, even that is up for debate. I don't know, I'm just - I'm here for you. More importantly I am worried for you. So just tell me."
Riza lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. "What is it with you and killing today?"
"I'm amped up from all this." She gestures vaguely in the room. "Let me live and also tell me, because otherwise I'm gonna explode."
Riza hesitates, twisting her fingers together tightly and flicks her eyes at different points in the room until she settles on her knees. "You obviously remember the guy."
"Yes, yes. Is he a mob lord? A trafficker? A -!"
"'Becca."
She swallows the guesses down. Now is not the time to scare her off. "Sorry, I'm trying to be patient."
"I know." Riza shoots her a quick, hesitant smile. "I appreciate it."
"But I am thirty seconds away from shaking it out of you."
Riza fights back a grin. "He's not a mob lord or anything remotely heinous." Riza sighs once more, her knuckles blanched white with the pressure of curling her fingers in. "He's…a professor. My professor."
The gears turning stop and for brief second, Rebecca experiences the out-of-body moment people talk about when they say they need to sit down. Good thing she's already sitting. Her jaw unhinges slowly and she sits there gaping at Riza while she's turned away. "Is it...the … horse guy? The textbook dick - the naps. In the cafeteria - the-the Chem Lit one?" She's not making sense, but what she's hearing doesn't make sense either. Riza gives her a cursory glance and confirms it with a nod. Rebecca covers her mouth and her mouth still goes on despite the muffling. "So then - the three orgas-" She shakes her head, ridding herself of the mental image. "Mm, don't want to go there. But - but the lingerie, the blowjobs, the - everything we talked about... It was… for him?" This is...completely out of left field, unprecedented, especially from her best friend. This is the sort of drama she'd expect to see on the late-night soaps, with b-rated acting and a c-rated plot.
It's not the sort of thing she'd associated with Riza Hawkeye under any circumstances. A gut punch to who she thought Riza Hawkeye was. A low blow that she wasn't trusted enough to be told the whole truth.
Riza nods again. If at all possible, she sinks further in her seat in what looks like shame. "Yes, and I've wanted to tell you -"
"Aren't you working for him?" It sounds more accusatory than she intends it to be.
"Yes. I am," Riza answers firmly, her fingers curling into fists on her knees. "And you can save your knee-jerk reaction to that."
As soon as she said that, Rebecca could see the walls forming around Riza again. It dawns on her then. This must've been the conversation - or the fight she had with Olivier and well...Olivier was never one to mince words. It doesn't take much to figure out exactly where the root of that fight would've stemmed from. Armstrong would've tried to strong-arm her opinion and morals right out the door, with hardly any compassion or any consideration that this is coming from Riza, one of the most sensible people she knew.
"Okay," she pinches the bridge of her nose with either side pressed with the tips of her fingers. "Okay, okay, okay. From the top. No more hiding and don't you dare leave anything out." She twists to face Riza properly, gripping her hands tightly in her own. "Believe me when I say I love you and I will always do my best to support you but I need to have the whole truth so I can do that. Capisce?"
Finally, a smile. "All right."
The entire retelling of her saga seems unreal. Like she's orating someone else's story, someone else's gossip. Rebecca listens and even tries to keep her interruptions to a minimum; this tells Riza she's actively trying despite her nature to interrupt and ask questions at point-blank, offering no comments but vague noises and the occasional gesture to encourage her to continue speaking. In some ways though, it's more worrying. When she's finally finished recounting the events that led up to what she dubs the 'couch incident' in her head and the event of the night before with Roy, Rebecca has practically withdrawn into herself.
Riza doesn't know how to read the small lift on the corner of Rebecca's lip. She shifts to the corner of the couch to look at the cushion as if the image of them will reappear and shifts her attentions back to Riza. "No wonder she left the couch behind," Rebecca finally says. "Though she'd be pissed if she knew what I had done on it."
The tension tapers off, starting with Riza's hands, when she sees a teasing smile grow across Rebecca's face. "It's best we don't bring that up, or she'll set the entire place on fire."
Relief doesn't begin to describe it. She knows she shouldn't want a validation for this; she has no qualms admitting how much she is lacking, morally and ethically, in her actions. Still, after Olivier, she doesn't want to venture into the hypothetical scenario where Rebecca walks out the door too. It was one thing for Olivier - a friend of a friend first and foremost, who she more or less got along well with. Her strong reaction and even stronger departure stung, she wouldn't lie, but Riza's known to let go of acquaintances and almost-close friends before.
But Rebecca? Her first real friend? The girl who had stuck it out with her through thick and thin, the only one not to abandon her or change the way she treated Riza in the wake of the fire? It doesn't bear thinking about. She'd sooner die of a broken heart than exist in a world where Rebecca couldn't look at her.
Riza makes note to apologize later for her delayed teenage rebellion with all this, though it wasn't. Not really. "Well." She waves a hand across the emptied room, trying to find a thread to tie this conversation up nicely. "Here we are. I didn't think she'd go to these lengths. At most I expected judgemental, disapproving glares and radio silence until the lease was finished."
Rebecca snorts, curling her knees under her. "Olivier doesn't work in shades of grey. It's black or it's white for her and I can see where she's coming from. If this goes tits up and I mean, really fucks up Riza-"
"Don't worry, Olivier made sure to explain. I've gone through the outcomes in my head several times. It's confusing because logic isn't prevailing where it should. I keep thinking of how things could have been different if I had done something, but I didn't."
Rebecca watches her carefully, as if there's a new light shining over Riza. Perhaps there is if she can't even make sense of her own actions. Olivier certainly saw her differently at the sudden revelation. No, the way Rebecca is regarding her isn't laced with disdain or contempt or something equally condemning; rather, Rebecca looks at her in the way she looks at her grades when they get released: sheer disbelief mixed with pride. Then, her eyes narrow. "This isn't just fucking, is it?" She scooches closer. "You are genuinely invested in… this."
Riza looks away with a guilty smile crosses her face. "In my defense, we didn't intend for it to get to this point."
Rebecca grabs a hold of her forearm and leans over into Riza's line of sight, the damned knowing smile still on her face. "I never thought I'd see the day," she teases again, but not unkindly. She brings her elbows in and there's a small wiggle in her seat. "I have never known you to catch feelings. In all my years…" she trails off, as if she was a wisened matron. "This is surprising, even for you, y'know."
Riza scoffs, with an honest loss of words. "That makes two of us."
Rebecca settles back. "So what did you in? What's so special? Unless his dick is just that magical."
Riza laughs; she can't help it. There's relief that Rebecca isn't immediately disapproval, that lowers the chances she's going to walk out on her, and it's only just hitting her now. The glee bubbles up in her throat and she decides to tease her back, "I mean..."
Rebecca cackles loudly, throwing her head back. "Stop! Okay! Oh, my god. No need to brag. Seriously though." she leans in closer, eyes wide and imploring. "I do trust you Riza. You're an adult and you're also one of the most responsible people that I know - which makes this so
strange because it is unlike you."
"Trust me. If I could choose to have it under different circumstances, I would."
Another grin, she knows what she's thinking, but it isn't voiced. Instead, she says, "In the end, it's your choice. I haven't been sold on this one hundred percent, but-!" she holds up a hand as Riza opens her mouth to interrupt, and then rests it over Riza's. "I don't want you keeping this from me, all right? I wouldn't want you to be alone in the event he decides to be blind just how lucky he is. Sometimes a second opinion is a good thing, especially with magic dicks involved."
Something hot prickles behind Riza's eyes and she looks down to Rebecca's hand. "Thank you."
"Now, I'm curious as to how this magical dick wizard managed to capture the feelings of the hardened, elusive Riza Hawkeye."
She closes her eyes involuntarily at the invasive mental image of magician's cape and nothing else on Roy. "Becca... it's embarrassing."
"Oh, no no no, missy. This is an exclusive and I want the full scoop on this." She jumps up from her seat. "I'll get the liquor."
Riza blinks away the tears from the sudden change to levity. "It's not even midday, Rebecca"
Her friend stops herself with both hands on the threshold to the kitchen. There's a mischievous aura around her. She shrugs with a toothy grin, before disappearing and announces, "Then we'll have mimosas."