(no subject)

[wrongstory]

 [so tabby. how about when a friend who's been away for a while shows up at your dressing room door with an armful of books and a dizzy expression.]

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[keepingtabs]

[a familiar voice calls out from inside]

Yes darling, I'm nearly ready, you don't have to hound me into being early every time, it's not fair to Gordeny or--

[keepingtabs]

[the doorknob turns and the door opens, mehitabel clearly ready to lean out the doorframe and into someone's space to chide them for interrupting her, when her mental brakes suddenly come to a screeching halt]

--Vincent.

[wrongstory]

[pure automation] I'm sorry.

[keepingtabs]

What--for--

[it isn't often that mehitabel lets herself express the fact that she's at a loss for words, but desperate times etc. she closes her eyes for a moment, taking it in, and tries again]

I'm surprised to see you.

[wrongstory]

Yes. Well.

I'm sorry not to have given any notice.

[keepingtabs]

[she exhales, and seems to relax a bit from the initial surprise]

It's a bit difficult to do so, considering where you've arrived from--where I assume you've arrived from.

[wrongstory]

[nods, confirming, and composing himself]

If you'd rather I come back— if you're busy?

[keepingtabs]

No, just come in. If Jean-Soleil knocks I'm going to tell him to bother Bartholomew and deal with those consequences later.

[she opens the door for him]

[wrongstory]

[walking in and just finding somewhere unobtrusive to stand, stiffly

hesitant] I'm glad to see you again.

[keepingtabs]

[she motions towards the small sofa next to the dresser]

Have a seat. I think I should still have some brandy or wine from last month's performance around here somewhere...

[finds a couple of glasses and pours a drink for each of them, with a general air of "no protests"]

[wrongstory]

[oh no he's like, draining his drink as soon as he sits down. apologetically. but just knocking it back]

[keepingtabs]

[YEP. she helpfully pours him another and then pulls up a chair to start making headway on her own drink]

[wrongstory]

[sets what he's brought with him on the sofa next to the floor and rests his head in his hands.]

I'm. [sorry. no that's not the one. breathless]

Aware this isn't particularly convenient.

[keepingtabs]

[she leans forward some, elbows resting on the top of her thighs. she speaks gently]

What happened, Vincent?

[wrongstory]

I decided to leave. I thought it was time to.

[keepingtabs]

[she nods, prompting him to continue]

[wrongstory]

[ok. reaching for his drink again]

Because there was too much to lose?

[keepingtabs]

... did you leave because you feared what would happen if the choice to leave was taken from you?

[wrongstory]

[nodding jerkily]

And— I wanted to see if I could have lived well here, after all. [awkward, not sure how to express the thought process there]

[keepingtabs]

Did you not, before?

[it's actually kind of a mean question to ask, but she wants him to get out whatever it is that seems to be weighing on his chest]

[wrongstory]

[receiving it more or less that way, with a wince but no resentment]

Not when something else was offered. But now...

[grits through a little more explanation] If I don't try here, I don't think I'll make it anywhere else.

[keepingtabs]

[she doesn't say anything for a few moments, pondering, and taking a drink]

Well, here you are. What is it you wish to try?

[wrongstory]

[getting that "contemplating bolting" look, dead pale with humiliation for a moment]

Do you still need a secretary?

[keepingtabs]

Lenore's been studying writing to take over that task, and she's made well enough progress, but if you'd like to resume your post it won't be any trouble.

[wrongstory]

That wouldn't be fair to her at all. I wouldn't mind helping her along, if she needs it, but I'll find something else.