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Author Topic: coming undone || téo  (Read 84 times)

* Vega Nettlebed

    (12/18/2018 at 20:55)
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just before lunch
sunday 3 july 1955
téo wittington's cabin


She had managed to avoid Téo all of Saturday by finding other company (Milla, Brook; even Avery and Calvin had made the list, though she hadn't found them so much as they had found her) with whom to waste the hours away.

It couldn't last, Vega knew this much. And it felt easier, more like she was in control, for her to make the first move. At least this way, she could pretend that she hadn't intentionally spent the last thirty-something hours dodging around any signs of her dorm mate, and that her distinct absence was nothing more than a coincidence.

Without bothering to knock, Vega pushed open the door to Téo's cabin.

"Are you coming to lunch?"

Her gaze lifted just long enough to catch the other's, but it soon slid away again, apparently finding something of more interest in the blank wall opposite than in her friend's eyes.
« Last Edit: 12/18/2018 at 21:04 by Vega Nettlebed »

Maria Teodora Wittington

    (12/20/2018 at 06:16)
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Hot, midday sun streamed through the windows, bringing light to what looked like more of an art studio than a place where one lives and sleeps. There were different sized canvases resting up against walls and shelves, some blank and some not. A large easel was set up next to the biggest window, and at the moment, this is where Téo was.

Nimble fingers mixed a brush into a grainy whitish color, bringing it up to line what appeared to be a broken lamp post. It was broken at its middle, hanging onto its base by the barest fibers. The lamp post looked like a fallen tree, the inconsistent textures of bark and smooth grain finish a deathly white color, with branches coming from the top, going in every direction.

"Are you coming to lunch?"

Téo hadn’t even heard the door opening, and so did not notice the huge, fluffy beast sit up alertly on her bed. Zorro had roosted himself there in a spot of sun on a brightly colored serape blanket at the end of her bed. Téo’s fingers, the one with the brush in between them stilled, much like the feeling in her chest she was experiencing upon realizing it was Vega.

After a second, Téo lifted her gaze to Vega’s at the very same time that the other girl decided to look at her. There was an edge to dark eyes, being in the middle of her art, and unlike Vega, she held her gaze. “So you didn’t fall in a hole somewhere then.”

“And,” Téo continued, returning to her painting, adding detail to the sprawling branches, “Depends.” the brush moved fluidly, and they were becoming more and more human-shaped. “Are you going to abandon me again?”

* Vega Nettlebed

    (12/22/2018 at 14:45)
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Irritation flared, hot and sharp, somewhere inside her chest.

This was not how she had wanted it to go. She had wanted to be able to come in here, to offer something as innocuous as are you coming to lunch, and to have Téo take that as her cue to carry on as normal. She had wanted to forget about Spin the Bottle, to go back to how they'd been just three days before. It became clear, both in the glint of something in the other's gaze and in her words -- light, but not quite light enough -- that this was not what Téo wanted and was certainly not what she was going to do.

"God." Vega stepped fully into the room and shut the door behind her. Her arms folded across her chest. "You're not actually upset about that, are you?" She said it almost scornfully, as if the idea of it was absurd, as if she hadn't lain awake for the past two nights reluctantly replaying the night over and over again.

"I don't know why it matters. Milla wanted to leave." She hoped sincerely that her friend would not find out later that she'd used her in a lie just to save herself, "And you were busy--"

--kissing Thijs.

--kissing Nash.

--kissing them both.

"--having fun, anyway."

Maria Teodora Wittington

    (12/24/2018 at 05:24)
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Her hand had paused on Vega’s God, and when the door shut, she was already putting the brush down. Her shoulders had been tense when she first realized it was the other girl, but now she could feel that tension all throughout her body and found her concentration gone at the mariposas, as her younger cousin would have put it, in her stomach. Except these, she was pretty sure, were the bad kind and not at all the mushy, romantic kind Rosita was talking about.

"I don't know why it matters. Milla wanted to leave."

An eyebrow raised, in fact, Téo actually leaned to the side in order to see Vega more clearly and wondered if the what the hell was evident on her features when she did. Hanging the wooden palette up on a hook, next to four others of different shapes, textures, and colors, Téo froze the paint in place with a quick flick of her wand and spell in Spanish.

“And you were busy--"

Walking over to a wooden box that set on a stool, she flipped it open, revealing many shelving and layers within the old looking wood that appeared much too small to house such structures. Grabbing a blue rag from a top shelf, Téo took a little longer than necessary wiping the paint from her hands.

"--having fun, anyway."

Until that.

“Busy.” Téo repeated, voice incredulous, as she threw the rag, rather roughly, back into the box. “Having fun.” Turning to fully face Vega, she held her arms out at either side. “Seriously? You call leaving me to your sister’s mercy fun?”

Nevermind that Nashira had been not at all horrible and surprisingly shy, which had oddly endeared Téo, and the kiss had been… Well. Strange. Not awful, but at the same time, she had found herself feeling uneasy afterward. The problem was, she hadn’t figured out if it was because it had been a girl or because it had been Vega’s sister (she wasn't really trying too hard to figure it out either way).

* Vega Nettlebed

    (12/24/2018 at 17:16)
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"Oh, please."

Blue eyes flashed; with her shoulders straightened and squared and her chin lifted a little, Vega cut a haughty figure up against the bare wall behind her.

"You enjoyed every moment of it."

It, kissing Thijs; it, moving forward to kiss Nash. And even if Vega hadn't seen Téo kiss Nashira, for she hadn't wanted to hang around long enough to witness it, she had certainly seen her kiss Thijs, had certainly seen the way she'd -- the way they'd both -- lingered. That had stung far more than she cared to admit.

Even now, two days later, she couldn't quite figure out why, exactly, it had struck her so hard and so painfully; but then, she hadn't really let herself think about it for more than a moment at a time, because thinking about it stirred uncomfortable feelings in the pit of her stomach and dreaded whispers in the back of her mind.

I would also like you on my canvas, Téo had said.

Vega had a sudden, inexplicable urge to stalk over to those same canvases, to search for Thijs's nervous hair and his uncertain eyes painted in bold strokes; she wanted to tear him to pieces and to leave him there, trampled into the floor.

She didn't move. She stayed where she was, her hands curling into fists at her sides, and waited for Téo to deny her accusation.
« Last Edit: 12/24/2018 at 17:17 by Vega Nettlebed »

Maria Teodora Wittington

    (01/02/2019 at 09:10)
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This was the first time Téo had experienced Vega’s anger towards her, and likewise, her being angry with Vega.

She didn’t particularly care for it.

Leaning back against a paint-stained table, Téo gripped the wooden edge with both hands, watching Vega. There were many things that had gone wrong that had her tense and ridiculously disoriented, as if fighting with Vega, not having her by her side in the morning or evening, essentially, not having Vega at all was unnatural.

But she still couldn’t work out why Vega had just up and left her. Why she had been avoiding her.

“You enjoyed every moment of it."

"Jesus," she breathed out, frustrated, "That was the game. What was I supposed to do? A nice, firm handshake?"

Then, it was as if the other girl's words echoed back to her, having fun and enjoyed every moment. Frowning, Téo straightened up against the table at that, and she could almost feel the look in her eyes changing from irritation to concern. Uncertain concern. If Vega was talking about her sister, Téo felt that she’d just out and say that. But she might not come out and just say it if…

“Vega,” she started, voice quiet, almost surprised, “Do you like Thijs?"

* Vega Nettlebed

    (01/09/2019 at 23:26)
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She was being ridiculous. She knew this. Still, her anger had flared, and still, it refused to subside.

Yes, she wanted to say, yes, a nice, firm handshake would have been better than kissing them both. She didn't say this, because Téo was right: that had been the game, and it didn't mean anything; or, rather, it wasn't supposed to mean anything. What it had ended up meaning to her, Vega wasn't sure. All she knew was that it had surely meant something, for it had meant nothing, she wouldn't be standing here now, unable to shake the pooling sense of dread.

“Vega,”

"Téo."

“Do you like Thijs?"

"I--what?"

For a moment, she simply stood, unable to do much more than stare across at her friend. "Thijs?" It was something she had considered when she'd stalked out with Camilla Carstairs, and later too, when they'd lain together on the bed, and after that, even, when she was alone again. It was a thought that she'd tried to entertain, if only because it was a better alternative to what she had begun to suspect was the real reason, and had decided against.

Vega Nettlebed did not like Thijs Märchen, not in the way that Téo meant it.

"God," she said again. "That's not--I don't--you're not even..." The words weren't coming out right. "No," she tried again, and this time a steel edge flashed in her gaze. She stood a little taller, "No, I don't like Thijs. And if that's what you think, then it's like...it's like you don't know me at all."

Something trembled in those final words, like a flame threatening to go out.

She was not going to cry.

Instead, "I'm going to lunch."

She made sure to slam the door on her way out.