Vincent Amorason (
vincent_amora) wrote in
nextgenerationmarvel2013-01-08 03:06 pm
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Picking Up The Pieces
So... that was it. He wasn't an Avenger anymore. Vincent felt very uncertain, about almost everything. He'd already spoken to Bruce, and consulted with his academic advisor about temporarily scaling back his course-load. He had an appointment with Stark at the end of the week to discuss his position there. Audhild was going to be well-educated and provided for. He'd even worked out a grocery list for the next few weeks and fully cleaned the apartment.
He'd done everything he could think of, he'd been so intent on putting this off.
He picks up the phone and dials a number that he'd resolved not to for some time.
"Hello... Roxanne."
He'd done everything he could think of, he'd been so intent on putting this off.
He picks up the phone and dials a number that he'd resolved not to for some time.
"Hello... Roxanne."
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But no. Instead, there was 'someone else'.
He swallows hard, trying not to look away from her.
"How long?"
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"We're...there's always...since we were kids, there was always this affection between us, and then he showed up one day at the Mansion and, I don't know. That affection - that connection - it was still there. It was something that I feel the two of us were not trying to act on, but sometimes it's difficult to deny what's there." Yes, this was all likely something that Vincent didn't want to hear, but if anything, Roxie owed him the truth.
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More than that... he'd been too late. If 'Joe' had only come around recently, maybe if he'd been ready sooner, if he could have spoken to Roxanne sooner-- But no. Of course not. Why should it go that way? One of his fists, kept carefully out of sight beneath the table, started to clench, but the tension carried all the way up to his shoulders. Pain mixed with anger and frustration. Not at Roxanne; never at her. At himself, mostly, since it was childish and futile to hold contempt for someone one had never met, someone who had not technically wronged oneself.
"I see." Is all the words that his swirling emotions manage to forge themselves into. He's quiet for a long minute. He will not cry. He will not scream. Such things are beneath him. Really.
"I still love you, Roxanne. When you ended it, you told me you still loved me... when did that stop?" He says it, not thinking it will change anything, but wanting to say it nonetheless. He needs to know.
Oh please... are you sure you didn't just say it in the hopes that it will make her change her mind? Feel some pangs of guilt and come running back to you and cradle you to her bosom? You're using your words like a weapon.
Well done. It's what he would do. It's what Mother would do.
Shut up! It's not like that!
It's not... it can't be.
"I have enough lingering pride--" he starts again, dragging his eyes back to hers, since he's not sure when he'll get to see her again. "--not to outright swear that I'll 'wait for you', but... if things run their course, and I'm still single... well... yes."
Oh, of course, because that sounded so much more dignified.
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This wasn't an easy conversation for her to have, partially because this was the first such conversation that Roxie had ever had in her life, and secondly, because she was all-too-aware of how Vincent was in a fragile place right now. She didn't want to make that worse or, and here was a terrible thought, send him teetering over the edge. This was, after all, the child of Victor von Doom and Amora the Enchantress.
"Vincent," Roxie said, finally, deeming that maybe an explanation of her current love life wasn't exactly in order. "I expected better of you than this. Trying to guilt me this way. That's not fair."
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His mouth hangs open slightly as the words hit him like a slap in the face. "No..." He says quietly. "That's not what I was trying to do. I just wanted to know... I'm sorry if... if that was rude to ask." He lowers his head in apology.
Could... could she be right? Was he really just trying to play her because he desired to have her back? No. He refused to believe it. He was better than that. Now, at least. He had not fallen that far.
He swallows again and searches for words. "I think... I think this is the part where one of us is supposed to say 'Let's still be friends', but I don't think I can do that right now. It... seeing you is..." He clears his throat and just gestures with one hand. "If you ever need my help with anything, you know you can ask, but I think it may still be a while before we can just hang out casually.
I don't begrudge you anything... you're just giving me the truth, so that's all I can give you. It hurts, incredibly so, yes, but... but if he makes you happy, I'm glad for you." That's the point at which he can't meet her eyes anymore. Not after the accusation of a moment ago. His wounded pride won't let him go so far as to say out loud that maybe Rogers can offer her something he can't, that maybe people simply can't be solved for 'x', but it's something.
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However, the annoyance cuts off quickly as he's surprised by her next comment. "Lena?" He blinks. "I... I haven't seen her in months. It might make me sound like a bad friend, but she's hardly even crossed my mind... What makes you think of her? I told you, what was going on with her before we got together was just... casual. Benefits, I believe is the prevailing term."
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He opens and shuts his mouth once, then again. Finally, he just shakes his head and reaches for his wallet, leaving cash and a generous tip for the food. "No... I don't have anything else." That statement in itself rings through his head like a tower's bell. "Goodbye Roxanne. I sincerely hope he makes you happy." He gets up, bowing his head gently, and starts walking out.