Waiting in Moments
Chapter: 7 All This Time Spent Waiting In Moments pt 1
Summary:
Cappie/Casey post season 2 finale.
"We do not remember days, we remember moments" - Cesare Pavese
A collection of moments in the aftermath of the finale.
She spends the first half hour at the party growing increasingly mad. The music is obnoxious and her costume is so half-hearted it's embarrassing. For the first five minutes she tried to convince herself that she isn't there to see him. But after turning down two requests to dance, and chucking the shot glass Wade had shoved in her hand she stopped trying to kid herself: she wants to see him; she needs to see him. Just to talk, she assures herself- although her body is craving a different kind of closure- just to talk.
She seeks him out in all his favourite haunts: the dance floor, the bar, the hot tub. She approached his bedroom with such anxiety, not sure if she could handle the sight of some girl in his bed. The surge of relief that flooded her upon seeing an empty bed was almost embarrassing and she was glad that no one had been there to witness it. It was around then that she began to grow annoyed.
She let her pride pool on the ground several minutes ago and now she is openly asking every person she sees: "have you seen Cap?", "where is Cappie". Ashleigh had shot her a knowing look and Rusty had grinned with such enthusiasm that she spared a moment of her search to call him a freak.
She grits her teeth for the billionth time this evening as yet another person admits to seeing him, but five minutes ago. So far everyone has seen Cappie, so far every person is sure that Cappie was in some room and when she inquires there she is directed to another room. The Kappa Tau house is not that big and now she worries that he saw her and bailed.
This scares and enrages her: she finds herself torn between wanting to slap him for wussing out and wanting to him to reassure her in some way, anyway, that he is still there for her in some capacity.
It's Beaver who saves the day in the end, grabbing her elbow and pointing to the roof.
"Go easy on him Case"
And she ponders the definition of irony with every step she takes.
Of course he had seen her.
His eyes half glued on the door, he had traced her form with apprehension and appreciation as she walked in. Those leopard tights clung to her legs and he hates himself a little more because he could have been the guy to greet her at the door with a kiss. He could have been the guy to hold her drinks while she lounged against his chest. He could have been the guy that held her hand while they danced. Her leopard tights, his tiger toga: two animals. He could have made primal jokes all night long, and she could have been the one to laugh against his skin, and laugh into his kiss; eyes glassy from too much alcohol, hair mussed from his fingers running through it.
But he's not. He's spent the last two weeks kicking himself, and denying himself and pretty much acting against everything he believes in.
Of course he had seen her.
She came in the door and he had pulled away from the crowd of people, determined to rectify things, determined to make it right for once. And then he had seen her sad smile and her grimace at the lights and the sounds and once again she became the unattainable and he was never good enough to begin with.
He pussied out. Majorly.
The roof has been his haven lately. He spends the next half an hour dousing himself in alcohol and counting the tiles. Just one more sip and then he is going to talk to her. He's been psyching himself up all day; tonight will make things right. Tonight will change things, somehow.
Halfway through his third beer he realizes he never thought of how. And then he's lost again because he honestly doesn't know what to say to her. He just wants her back. He just wants her.
Her arm hits the window at awkward angle and he turns around at the sound. She doesn't meet his gaze and instead pretends to focus on getting out of the window and onto the roof, although it's really not that hard, and they both know it.
She's so full of emotion right now. Charged enough that she's certain she will spark if he gets too close, or, god forbid, if he touches her. Irritation, hurt, guilt, shame, nerves and a tiny flicker of lust course through her and she doesn't know what to feel. Her face his hot and she's avoided his gaze too long now, so when she drags her eyes up to meet his face she isn't prepared to see that his expression mirror hers.
It's awkward. The silences between the two have been many things: angry, loving, tension filled, but never awkward. She struggles to find her footing in this new space between them; she doesn't know where to start.
"Hey"
He always was the initiator in their relationship. She can't help but feel a step behind, even now. She can barely mange a nod back. And suddenly she is wondering just what the fuck she is doing here. Suddenly she is wondering how a conversation can change anything. Suddenly she is wondering if they are too far gone.
"Nice costume"
She points to his toga, immediately hating herself for being a wimp and avoiding the topic.
He looks let down, but he's smiling anyway.
"Same to you"
She shakes her head and hugs her arms to her chest. It's cold on the roof but that's not why she's shivering.
"I wasn't planning on coming"
He nods. Not smiling anymore.
"I'm glad you did"
"Yeah…
She looks away. Unsure, nervous, whatever. She was supposed to get over him. She was supposed to wallow, and maybe gain a pound in ice cream, and then she was supposed to move on. She wonders why she came. She wonders why the hell she can't seem to say what she wants to say and get it over with. She wonders why she still wants him .She wonders why she can't stop.
"So, we need to talk Casey... Don't we?"
A feeling of self loathing grabs hold and seems to choke her: that was supposed to be her line; she was supposed to take control. Nowhere in her head had she imagined this shivering little girl, silent and confused and not at all proactive.
She forces out a reply. And her heart screams "I want you, I want you, I want you"
"Yeah…"
"I can't get over you Casey. I can't ever seem to get over you, or get away from you. and I tried, believe me but I can't get over you and I want you."
She looks up at him sharply. She can't pretend she's never wanted to hear those words, but they don't sound hopeful or loving or even kind. They sound bitter and jaded and even a little sad. Fear seems to take hold and suddenly there are words on her tongue and suddenly they are tumbling out of her mouth faster then she can register.
"Then why did you say those things Cap? If you've wanted me for so long why the hell would you turn me away?"
Her body feels more alive now. For the first time in two weeks she is feeling something. It strikes her as odd that it is anger that is getting her going but it feels good to feel anything again, and her body clings to the sensation.
"You don't understand. What happened at the party that was a mistake. I was trying to convince myself that I could move on. And I can't Casey, I can't and I know I never will"
He looks sort of lost and sad and irritated all at once. And he's trying to explain things but she seems stuck on the fact that he rejected her.
"No, Cap. You don't get to say that. Every time I rejected you. I was with somebody else. I had a legitimate excuse and I regretted it every time. You have no excuse. I wanted you so badly and you said no. You didn't have an excuse Cappie"
He looks angry now too and somehow she knows neither of them had planned on it ending like this. But she can't seem to control her anger; it floods her veins and pulses through her and right now it seems like the only language they both understand.
"Clearly you don't get it either. 'Every time I rejected you?' That was pretty much the problem Casey. I rejected you once. Once! Sorry if I wanted to save face just one time. So don't give me that bullshit about having no excuse. There was no excuse for how you treated me."
"How I treated you? Do you even remember why we broke up in the first place?"
She can't seem to stop. This isn't what she wants to say at all but the words seem to keep tumbling out of her mouth and nothing can seem to stop them.
"How can you try and save face when I was the one giving myself to you. I went to the party; I broke up with Max for you. I-I told you I wanted to try us again and you said no. Don't feed me excuses from the past. You did this. You were the one who said you didn't want me. I still want you Cappie. "
He doesn't answer. His face is a mask and she can't read it. Her breath comes out in pants, and its cold enough to see the dispelled air float away. It's too much. Maybe she isn't ready for this. Clearly he isn't ready for this. He's probably drunk, she probably will be soon. Maybe they won't ever get the timing right.
By the time he breaks the silence she's already prepared to take the blow. It's almost skilful, the way she shuts down completely. These past two weeks she's felt numb and sad, and it's almost like stepping back into some comfortable place: she cocoons herself in it muffling the world around her, shutting it out. He took all those rejections in stride. But she can't, she can't deal with another one, so she flees before he has the chance to hurt her again.
He's speaking to her but she's already turning around and leaving. He's speaking to her but she's not listening. She can outrun this she thinks. It was stupid coming here. It was stupid and embarrassing and she just wasted the evening yelling at someone she never wants to yell at. She just spent the evening hurting someone she never wants to hurt. So he doesn't want her. She can't take it now, but she will take it somehow, someday. She just needs to get out of here; she just needs to get as far away from him as possible.
She misses his words as she climbs in the window.
"I want you too Casey. I still do"
But she is already gone.
He watches her leave. Already the argument is cold and sour and he knows he didn't mean a word of it. He knows he just wants her. Alone with his breath and the dull noise from the party below, he lingers, torn between the solace of the roof and the danger of the chase. It would be so easy to pick up another bottle, and nurse the hurt and settle back into the routine of what could have been and never will.
His fingers twitch, as if accepting the bottle before he even grabs it.
He clenches his hand instead, for once easy isn't so inviting.
Heart thumping, body tense, he rushes toward the window.
He's not letting her get away this time.
So so so SO sorry for the delay. Job, school, life, midterms, finals, papers and all that kind of crap got in the way. And then they got together on the show and I was so happy about that it was kind of difficult to get back into this angsty little state of mind.
Anyways. I hope this chapter turned out okay, I had to force it in some parts. It was longer but I've decided to split it into two parts. the next chapter will be the last and I'm almost finished it whoooo!
(Shameless self promotion here but I've written some Casey/Cap oneshots so feel free to check them out , and if you like Vampire Diaries i've been dabbling with some stories there too. )
I hope I didn't lose all my readers by taking so long. and i apologize if i did.
please please please please review
it will make my day.
XOXO