. regret me

[isaac mcavoy]

If he was doing the right thing, why did it feel so wrong? She seemed so vulnerable. With their faces so close together, animalistic instincts have taken over; not just lust, but the ability to sense danger, particularly on her part. His hesitancy has infected her and he can feel the atmosphere curdle around them. Gone in a nanosecond and missed immediately, he wants to go back to the hazy moment before he ruined it all.  Watching as she processes it, he wants to eat his words back up, to kiss her and sweep her off her feet. "Lily--" he starts, as if her name is the only word in his vocabulary. Unwilling to free her from the makeshift cage of his arms, he tilts his head at her, trying to get her to look at him. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, a finger finding her chin and trying to tilt her head up to look at him. "Please, Lily, listen to me. It's not you, it could never be you." He takes a deep inhale, his eyes meeting hers with genuine sadness. "I'm seeing someone. Have been for the last few months, you met her at the wedding."

[lily mccarthy]

How dare she be so naive. It's her own internal chastising that softens her stature, neither fight nor flight kicking in. Just an existential resolve, curled in with apologies because the damage was done. Even with fleeting physical contact she'd breathed it into existence, the want she felt, only to be let down. The worst part is that she's shocked by it, when she shouldn't have been. They were still on shaky ground; this would have broken the entire foundation apart. So it's why she's startled when the reason comes. Despondent as he tilts her gaze to face him, feeling the shock thaw her rigid frame. Then a steely confusion, eyes darkening in question. "What?" It's all she can ask, coming back in enough to press against the counter away from him. Turn her head the other direction out of his grasp, remove herself from the palms that had both held and broken. He'd never brought her up, not in their late night conversations, not in the rare hours when their words would dip past the thresholds of caution. Not when they held fucking hands. Finally, finally, Lily finds her breath and breaks away. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

[isaac mcavoy]

"I am telling you." It's a cheap retort, the kind he would have rigidly committed to back when he used to gaslight girls like it was his day job. She pulls away from him and something inside starts to crack, that crack deepening with every glimpse of her frustration at his behaviour. It's no good, he's no good, but he wants to be and that has to count for something... right? "I know. I'm sorry, I should have mentioned it earlier." With another sigh he leans back against her counter, running a hand over his face as he asked himself her questions, interrogated reasoning that had never been rational in the first place. "It wasn't serious, still isn't that serious, so I didn't know when to say." With his throat running dry, he takes a gulp of the fake champagne. It's too sweet, cloying even, so far removed from the thing it was pretending to be as to be almost offensive. Maybe he was too far away from the person he pretended to be too. "If I had known..." He looks at her again, his body slack, the negative outcome of anything he has to say a foregone conclusion. With that in mind, he ploughs on with the honesty, since he had nothing to lose. "I thought you'd made it pretty clear that we weren't going to happen. Are you even sure that's actually what you want? Or are you getting swept up in your new place and my sobriety?" A thought suddenly occurs to him. "Have you been drinking today?"

[lily mccarthy]

This is what she should have been afraid of. What built so suddenly comes down just as quickly, arms crossing over her chest as she refuses to react to his quick snap. Emotions scatter all over the place, fear and remorse and guilt and anger and shame, until she's left with a cloying numbness. "You could have said at any time. We're friends, we tell each other things. I could have been happy for you instead of putting us in this situation in the first place." She refuses to pick at what she suspects is an underlying reasoning, afraid to unravel them even further. Just in case. Just in case Lily changed her mind. For a split second she's glad that he didn't act on it before this news, but it fades into quiet hurt as he continues, gaze falling back to the pool illuminated by the moonlight. Trying to figure out how to respond to someone that could either break her, or watch her break herself. "Is it impossible to think people can change their minds?" Lily asks, moving to continue until his line of questioning cuts her off, eyes sharp and betrayed. "I'm not drunk, Isaac." It's a half-truth, champagne in her stomach feeling like sick guilt as she finally turns back to him. "I'm just sorry. Embarrassed, and sorry."

[isaac mcavoy]

What had his therapist said to do? Oh yes, count back from ten. Everything she says makes him want to react defensively, he wants to deny they are in "a situation" at all. He takes yet another deep breath, looking out into her beautifully overgrown yard as he counts back from ten in his head, thinking of nothing but the numbers. It works to calm him down. Finally he turns back to her, his tone more even than before. "I should have told you. I'm sorry I didn't. You have to know it wasn't because I wanted to embarrass you, or even keep you in the dark... honestly, Lily, my betrayal is to her, not to you." Can't she see that? Isn't it obvious why he didn't tell her when he was so transparent about literally anything and everything else? "It seemed near impossible to me that you would change your mind." He closes the gap between them, though he manages to hold himself back from touching her, scared she'll recoil. "I didn't say you were. I ask because I know the feeling of having things click into place, of wanting to keep the good things happening when they start." She says she's embarrassed and it's a knife twist in his stomach, making him shake his head. "I'm a fucking idiot Lily. I think I thought you'd rule me out for good if I had a girlfriend, but I only gave her a chance because you were seeing someone else and I couldn't fucking stop thinking about you, literally 24/7, every fucking night and day."

[lily mccarthy]

Then why? It's quick to her tongue but Lily never presses further because she knows anyway. Why he'd never say, why he'd withhold that information from her. It doesn't help the smart of betrayal in her system but she understands, because she knows the feeling well at this point. Strangled by an impossibility, never finding their footing because they're constantly on two different planes. Even though he'd nudged her from the edge this time, saving her from a graceless fall, the damage had already been done. Rejection anchors her body close to the counter, arm bracing the marble in stability as he treaded closer. "I have," she finally murmurs, half as a warning to stay away from her and half as the thick-coated honesty she'd constantly tried to give. Feeling for the woman who sounds like an afterthought to him, a back-up plan and a just in case. Because of her. Lily isn't sure what feeling races up the column of her throat at the thought - sorrow, or selfish glory."Has she helped?" The words are warm in her mouth, head tilting slowly to the side in question, eyes wide. "Are you happy?"

[isaac mcavoy]

What they had was so mercurial, Zac lived in fear of saying or doing the wrong thing and having her slip through his fingers. He hadn't expected the revelation to hit her this hard, and that's part of the problem, she was unpredictable-- or he was bad at predicting her behaviour, at least. He's not entirely sure what it is that's driving this reaction, whether it's simple embarrassment at misread signals, annoyance at his white lies, true disappointment or some mix of all of the above. In any case, he had been rebuffed by her enough to know it wasn't a fun experience. He nods slowly at her revelation. "See? I don't think I'm wrong here... girlfriend or no girlfriend, I never want you to do something you'll wake up tomorrow and regret, all because you got carried away in the moment." He pauses. "I don't want that for me either. To be something you regret." Lord knows enough women had him on their list of things they wish they could take back. Frustration at his never-ending inability to handle these situations well bubbles up within him, making him seethe at himself. Her next comment cuts through him like broken glass. "That's not a fair question." There is no acceptable answer here. His relationship was in its infancy, fun and carefree, bringing with it a lightness he hadn't experienced in years. But how could it compare to them, to this? "She wasn't a stand in for you. I was trying to live my life, like you were already living yours."

[lily mccarthy]

Breathe. She isn't sure where it comes from, but Lily sucks in air on a sharp gasp, tries to steady the tremble of her hand on the cool counter. Tries to steady the rampant thoughts in her head, sifting through the heat of betrayal and the soft waves of rejection to tug at the roots underneath. What was driving her oscillating reactions, the charged questions and the anxious jump in her chest? She was..."Scared," Lily breathes, shoulders tumbling back down. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just...terrified." Of losing you again. It hangs unsaid in the air, eyes shifting from him to the windows to the framework of the house, so quickly alive with a memory she'll inevitably wish she could sleep off. Ignoring his attempts to rationalize because she knows if she tries to argue them further, it wouldn't go anywhere good. "I'm just asking if you're happy," Lily murmurs again, running a hand through her hair. The silence creeps in on them, haunting, and the nervous shiver that courses through her body sends her further crashing down. "And I don't want to ruin what you have. So you were right...to stop me. But I don't think I would have regretted it. I wouldn't have tried if I did."

[isaac mcavoy]

"Don't be. Nothing has changed." Easier said than done. Overcome with the urge to pull her into his arms, he manages to maintain control of himself, sure she'll want space. His head is swimming with thoughts of how this could have gone differently. What if he'd been honest earlier? But then she would never have made any advances, and he would be in the same place he was before, so sure that she wasn't interested. What if he hadn't told her at all? Well, she'd have found out eventually, and this reaction would seem like nothing. The more he thinks about it, the less he regrets the option he went with, as ill thought through as it was.  Watching as her dark eyes cast around the room, he wills her to move on from this. He doesn't want this place to be steeped in the feeling of this moment, imbued with regret that would inevitably serve as a reminder to her to never try that again. Not that she actually tried anything. "Do you want me to be?" The tension is eating at him, making his skin itch with a desire to wrap the conversation up, to put it in a box and bury that box for good. No chance of that. "I wouldn't have regretted it either. Which isn't fair on Hazel, so that's something I'll have to think about." A sigh. "I need a smoke. Will you come outside with me?"

[lily mccarthy]

Nothing has changed. It's almost an echo of that New Mexico desert, her eyes roaming the vast emptiness of sand with the same fluttering heartbeat she now felt at home. Nothing has to change...as if it's that simple. Just reversed this time, the implied confession a kiss that never came to be. It's almost funny if she thinks about it, being on the opposite side of it this go around. He'd pushed, she'd held fast; she pushed, he held steady. Unexpectedly, a laugh tumbles from her lips, light and quick with the hints of exasperation. God, she probably sounds crazy. She even feels it, so focused on the situation that inevitably, existed all in her head. "Of course I do, with or without me," she breathes and it's the first honest thing that feels right. Lily had always wanted the best for everyone, even if it was to her own personal detriment. She'd make herself miserable to make another person happy, the fatal flaw of second, third, fourth chances personified in front of her. But he was so much more at this point...her mind muddles again, proximity and the tension almost cloying in their wake. "Yeah, just...I need a minute." She motions toward the back door, waiting until he passes through before taking another swig of the champagne then unceremoniously pouring it down the sink. Letting herself settle for a second, keep breathing, before wiping away tiny, hesitant tears and following him out. It's balmy, and beautiful, calm outside after the storm inside. Lily settles into one of the lounge chairs that remained, air tinged with the brewing smoke and dewy evening. "Are you going to tell her about this?"

[isaac mcavoy]

On the surface nothing had changed between them. They were close friends, confidantes, professional collaborators. They went to the same diner, drove in the same cars, hung out with the same people. They had never gone on anything that could be considered a date by any traditional definition, had never spent the night with each other, twisted up in bedsheets. But the subtext between them was heavy and getting more so by the day, a tumultuous rollercoaster of a relationship that lived in the words unspoken and the glances that lingered too long. He had committed a cardinal sin by dedicating a song to her out in the open, desire made literal, though he had intentionally picked one by a lyricist famed for his indecipherable intent. If he'd wanted to be obvious about it, he'd have opted for RU Mine by the Arctic Monkeys, and it was a nuclear option he had paid some thought to. She laughs and it's his favorite sound. "I want to be happy with or without you too, though I'd rather it was with you." There it was, the familiar mutual flow of honesty. He feels lighter for it, though he can tell she's still grappling so he leaves her to her thoughts. Beside, he liked his alone time, a fundamentally solitary person despite his consistent string of other halves. Outside the air feels crisp, the moonlight reflecting in the pool as he can still distantly hear Bob Dylan, up to 'One More Cup of Coffee'. The A side would be finished soon. He lights up a cigarette and takes a deep drag, enjoying the rush of nicotine that floods his veins, a lingering vice that felt all the sweeter for being the surviving one. As she steps outside, he hovers beside her, not taking a seat. The answer comes out of his mouth before he even realises that's the decision he'd come to. "I'm going to break up with her. If she asks why, then yeah, I'll tell her, but she might not. D'you want a smoke?"

[lily mccarthy]

Within the sparse seconds of the house, Lily gathers herself. Takes stock in her senses - hears the crackle of Bob Dylan skipping to the next song, sees the pool glittering on the windowpanes, sticky champagne sweet and sharp on her nose. Touches the cool marble, tastes the lingering words on her teeth. Feels the tick of her heart steady, then slow, breath deep in her chest. It'll be ok, she thinks, as she opens the door. No matter what, they would be ok. It's only further confirmed when he stands alongside her, dark hair spilling across the lounge cushion, eyes fluttering closed once more. "Me too," she echoes, wind cooling the salt now drying on her cheeks. Lily was silently proud that she hadn't broken down too openly, forced something out of compassion or the urge to stop her tears. If this was something they both wanted - eventually, maybe, someday - it hinged on that honesty and trust they'd slowly put into each other. One she hears now, eyes flying open to his frame lingering above her, palm curving her gaze as if it was bright outside. "Why don't you think she would?" Lily chooses to ask, maintaining her stare as she gracefully reached for her pocket with her other hand, cherry vape casually pulled to her lips to answer his question. The smoke mingles with his in the air, nicotine and sickly sweet. "And are you sure that's what you want to do?"

[isaac mcavoy]

The sky above them is flecked with stars, little shining dots fighting through the Los Angeles light pollution. Zac looks up at them as he continues to smoke, each cigarette a mindfulness break, a chance to reconnect with his surroundings and stop thinking about what he was about to do next. "She's chill. She probably wouldn't be that interested in the answer." Hazel, whose earliest real experience of him was attending his ex wife's wedding - whom he'd cheated on - where she spent most of the evening watching him dance with Lily, whispering in her ear, and then sulkily drinking the rest of the night away. Watching Isaac watch Lily. It hadn't seemed to bother her, so he couldn't imagine this would either. The smell of artificial cherry wafts its way up to him and he scrunches his nose up in disdain. "If I were president, banning vapes would be top of my to do list." The tip of his cigarette glows in the darkness, a more romantic notion than the artificial dot of light that appears when she inhales. Finally he sits on the lounger next to her. "Yeah. Not really fair to keep going when I have this level of feeling for someone else. I either need to get over that," he squishes the cigarette out on the ground, crushing it under his heel. "Or I need to pursue it. Nothing in between. I'll pick that up by the way, don't you worry."

[lily mccarthy]

Selfishly, Lily wished she'd spent more time talking to Hazel at the wedding. Whether it was being caught up with Sam, blindsided by Zac or her stirring, harbored jealousy, Lily had offered pleasantries but not very much further. She barely remembered leaving, hand tied up with Sam's but mind stuck on a champagne glass being swiped off a tray. How it must have looked. Though generally considering herself a good person, Lily knew those optics probably hadn't been the best. Neither would these, if anyone saw them. Luckily tucked in the privacy of her backyard, Lily blowing more smoke into the sky in emphasis. "Unfortunately you're Canadian, so you're outta luck. They taste better anyway." Lily pulls her legs back up to make room for him, chin resting easily on her knees. Staying in the moment, eyes tracing the edge of the pool, brightness of the stars, the hint of a smile coming back to her full lips as he laid it out. Her gaze shifts mercurially back to him, holding a second too long before she takes another drag with a laugh. "You better - no littering, rule number 3." Warming to the silence as she studies him, pale light refracting off the planes of his face. "So what's it gonna be?" Lily's voice is low when it finally comes, as if any second now someone could hear them, refusing to break her stare, shift her body, exist anywhere but this small space in this big world. Until a familiar noise trickles past the doorway, smile turning sly and quiet. "A Side's finished."

[isaac mcavoy]

Hazel, Hazel, Hazel. Her general lack of intensity was what had attracted him to her in the first place, though in reality it may have been a relationship driven by his chronic need to have an other half. Since he started dating Chloe at age eighteen he hadn't spent more than three months single, a fact that his therapist constantly wanted to discuss further but he wasn't particularly interested in. "Nothing unfortunate about being Canadian," he grins, glancing over at her and noting how perfect her skin looks in the moonlight. "Maybe if you had a maple one I'd change my tune."  The mood has shifted and he feels a deep sense at relief now that they seem to be in calmer waters. Even with the drama in their very recent past, he makes a point of committing this moment to memory, knowing he'll want to relive it later. As much as he looked at her, her eyes on him make him shift where he's sat, feeling somehow exposed. Her question is laced with challenge and it's unsettling having the ball in his court, his mind racing all over again as he tries his best to think of how to play this. Finally, a crackle rings through the house and into the yard, breaking the tension. "Speaking of changing tunes."  Collecting his cigarette butt, he goes inside and disposes of it inside the empty champagne bottle, heading to the record player and flipping the record over. As he carefully places needle against the disk, he goes and downs his faux champagne, feeling light headed enough to pretend it was real. "I think I need to talk to Joey."