poly_chromatic | » 6; audio

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bones - angela montenegro

» 6; audio

Just because the lights are on doesn't mean anybody's actually home, or in this case, the shop's actually open. Sorry to break your little precious hearts, but there'll be no Visitors' Day specials today at Passione. Yes, I understand other shops are doing it, but not this one, mainly because we're closed at this hour of the night.

[And currently there are a lack of employees and such other things a business requires.]

Feel free to stop by and tell this lone worker hello if you care to, maybe bring me a coffee and a donut, maybe a late night dinner too. Just saying. It'll be your good deed for the day.

[ooc: Action/Audio welcome since she's at the shop. Everything is fair game except anything past S4 of Bones. Anything else she can easily forgot by *~*magic*~*.]

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[He holds the bags and drink containers up as a peace offering.]

You mentioned being hungry. I hope I've remembered your favorites.

[So now he just stands there, not knowing what to do. Composed on the outside, terrified on the inside. Hardly any time's passed for him, it was literally yesterday since he saw her last, but for her. He can now remember months. Lonely, lonely months when he was alone between these visits and now... now it's her. And his heart aches for it.]

[It's been exactly thirty days for her. A whole month of an emotional rollercoaster where Angela's just coming out of the shakiest car and finding her footing on solid ground again. How he looks so calm, she'll never know because her own eyes are open wide and a range of feelings cross her face. Good feelings. She's happy to see him, even for this feeling moment, but in between that are lashings of worry about will he be gone tomorrow, will this be the last time she'll ever see him?

But all of a sudden, Angela laughs completely out of nowhere.]

It's your office. You don't have to wait for permission to come in.

No, I seem to recall leaving some very explicit instructions about who's office this was to be after I was gone. I'm not here to step on toes.

[But he is going to come inside anyway, a slight smile at the edge of his lips at her laugh. Better than tears, which are what he feared. But to keep the tone light, he's going to busy himself setting out the food on the desk, being careful not to move things around too much or pry.]

Well, we kinda fudged those instructions so technically, it's still yours since we actually haven't gotten around to doing anything yet.

[Or more like she hasn't felt like doing anything until recently. Packing up his belongings, touching any of this designs always felt too soon, too disrespectful. If he looks closely at the desk, he will notice that everything is still as he had it, the only exceptions being an empty coffee cup and her sketch pad.

With his back turned to her, Angela loses herself for a moment and rushes toward Cinna, wrapping her arms around his waist, just to feel him against her one last time. If he pushes her away, she'll respect that. Different times, different worlds. Whatever they had is probably over now and there's just no need to hold on to what's not there anymore.]

I'm sure you will eventually. I know you, if I didn't think-

[As always she takes him by surprise, but with the memories still flooding in, he reacts as he always does, placing his arms over hers and holding her in return before turning to pull her into his arms properly.]

It hasn't been long enough has it? It's all too fresh for you. I'm so sorry.

You left on the first. Today's the thirtieth.

[Before the City, Angela's never been one to count the days with any sort of precision, but she's been marking off each one on a calendar for as long as she's been here. With just a glance, she can tell you what even happened on which day.

Some dates, particularly days that put her through the ringer, she has committed to memory.]

It's not your fault. Are you happy?

[Back at home, she means.]

Back home? I should think so. I just showed of the design of my lifetime. It's all anyone's talked about today.

[And he knows it's his death warrant. Knew it from the moment the conceived it, the moment he realized that Katniss would be returning to the arena. His signature. His final masterpiece. Well, maybe not final. He has a few things tucked away. A little something he plans to give to Plutarch before the games actually begin. Before his usefulness as a stylist is outweighed by Snow's desire for revenge.

But none of that shows. He's been hiding himself for so long, it's second nature. Even his time here didn't dim that.]

Ah, you should have seen it, one gown, hidden beneath another to be revealed when the top one burns off with... [He tries to spin Angela out as a demonstration, he thinks it will make her smile.] ...the twirl of a lovely young lady.

[It does make her smile. His happiness is infectious.]

Who's the lucky model?

Katniss, of course. I know she didn't seem it when she was here, but she is a beautiful subject.

[He loves to see her smile, to be able to make her smile.]

[It's a temporary one, but it's there. Even then, Angela feels like she hasn't smiled like this in years.]

Is she happy too?

I don't know that happy is the word I'd use.

[Far from it, so very far from it that Cinna doesn't even know where he'd start to explain, even if he could.]

She's doing what she needs to be doing, I guess.

[He spins her again, pulling her back into his arms and starting a slow dance. It feels manipulative, this distraction, but this isn't a topic he wants to pursue. It's not one he can at the moment.]

[She can tell. But it all works out because Angela doesn't want to talk about it anyway. Let her play ignorant right now, pretend he doesn't have to go home in only a few hours.]

How long has it been?

For me - no more than a day, darling.

[He pulls her closer, comforting, just existing in the sphere of her arms and the scent of her hair.]

I imagine it's been longer for you.

A month.

[It's so unfair. Here he had to spend six months without her and she gets off easy with only four weeks. Why is everything between them always so uneven? It makes moving on harder than it usually is. She knows she'll have to eventually, as long as he'll be back in Panem and she's here, but right now, Angela just wants it to be them again. Just for right now.]

I'm glad you're safe. [The words that she doesn't say is that she's glad he's still alive, that while her arms are wrapped around him, she can feel the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart, the scent of his cologne that her nose can pick out of a crowd anywhere.] I haven't moved anything.

You should. None of it's mine anymore.

[Fingers reach up to card through her hair, cupping her face to turn it up to his. He doesn't want her to wallow, he wants, needs her to move on because he knows there will come a time when he won't be able to come back. He'll be too far away. He'll be dead.]

[She knows this. There used to be a time when Angela could just pick up her things and move on without blinking, but she just isn't like that anymore. She doesn't know why or when she changed. Maybe it was with Hodgins. What they had was never broken off cleanly either and her method of moving on from him threw her into a forced celibacy that just made her sit and think about what she'd done for over a year.

Now here she is doing it again, this time with desire for other people burning, but wondering if she should try and be as behaved as he was. They're two different people, that's for sure. Something has to give now.]

We can't keep doing this, Cinna.

[Yet, she doesn't pull back from his touch. Even Angela's giving herself mixed messages.]

I know, I should leave.

[He stops moving, kissing her forehead lightly. It isn't fair, it's never been fair. And it won't be fair to her if he keeps showing up and dragging up all these old feelings.]

Make sure you eat something, love.

I didn't say leave.

[No, she certainly did not, sir. She just said they should stop. She didn't say right this moment either, at least not like this. This isn't a proper goodbye. Angela's not going to let this man kiss her like a small child and walk right out of her life for the last time without her putting something into it.

So it should be absolutely no surprise to him when she grabs him by his belt and presses their lips together harshly, like he's the air she needs to breathe.]

[He responds as he always does, kissing her back with a passion that always surprises him. Reaching up to bury his fingers in that hair he could smell in last night's dreams. She's probably damned them both with this, because he doesn't want to leave. Not like this.

But it hurts him, too, knowing that there's no future in it. That it's this night, maybe part of the next and he'll be back in Panem. Facing his death as like as not.]

[Not for the first time ever, Angela finds herself crying as she continues kissing him, fingers tightening in the folds of his clothing. This is it. This right here is their actual goodbye. Unlike the time she came for a visit or the time she came for her return, this time, it'll be the last time they'll hold each other like this. Every touch will matter more than the last because it will be the last time she'll touch him or the last time he'll ever be touched with care or love behind it.

And that last part is the one that makes Angela pull back and rest her forehead against his to sob softly. He's alive now, but if he comes back to visit, she's pretty sure he won't be and even then, she still unsure on exactly why.]

[He doesn't tell her not to cry, he knows that will be a waste. Instead he holds her, rocking her gently, running his hand over her back as soothingly as he can. He doesn't know if this will be the last time, or if it is merely the first of a series of hollow and ultimately painful encounters.]

I'm so sorry love, I don't know what to do. Do you want me to stay? To go? I'll do whatever you like, you know I will.

I don't know.

[She doesn't actually know if she should send him away or let him stay here with her or make love to him one last time just to feel the finality of it all. Angela used to be so sure of her next move but love just confuses her nowadays and he's so warm against her that right now, the only thing she's sure about is not letting go.]

I thought you'd be dead. I don't know why. I just did. I had nightmares of you being back in Panem, being miserable and I know being back home is all we want here, but I wanted you to be happy and alive. I didn't want to be selfish.

[Most of all, Angela didn't want to be alone here again, but in the end, she will be. It's different here than it was back home. Being on the move always was her choice but the people she knew were always a phone call away. Here they leave as soon as she gets comfortable with them being around and then she has to begin again.]

Come, sit with me. Just... sit for a moment, will you?

[He gently pulls her towards the couch, site of more spent nights than was strictly necessary. Both with Angela and without, and now he just wants to curl up with her and tell her the truth. Pieces of it at least, while he still has the time to. Nothing that will affect Katniss or Peeta or Rue Or Finnick should they return, but enough so she knows... he's made his choices. And he has no regrets.

So she knows why.]

[When he asks like that, all she can do is nod and follow, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. Angela has no idea what's to come next and she's not even starting to wonder. For once in her life, her mind is completely blank except for conflicting emotions fighting for the lead.]

[He pulls her close once they're settled on the couch, continuing to stroke her hair. Pressing a kiss to her temple he takes a moment to enjoy the feeling again. The scent of her. The simple joy of having this life for a moment, parallel to the other. But he has to do this and the sooner it's done, the sooner they can get past it. If there is getting past it.]

You're not entirely wrong, Angela, to think that I should be dead. I fully expect to be in the next few days. [Or worse, but that's not something he's ready to dwell on overlong, despite the precautions he's taken.] You know home isn't a pleasant place, that there are things I'd like to change. And they are changing. After so long... I've played a part and the government knows it. They need me alive, in public, but not for much longer and when the cameras go dark on my portion of the Game... [She doesn't need him to spell that part out.]

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