FREYJA DAMASCA
Psychic
Posts: 184
Age:
28
Occupation:
Analyst at The Mystic Falls Courier
Status:
Married
Partner:
Theo Damasca
Played by:
Julia
“But it’s hard, when you’re hurt, to let somebody wreck you again.”
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 18:29:01 GMT
|
Post by FREYJA DAMASCA on Jun 24, 2021 2:33:11 GMT
 ━ they set me on fire, and i did a lot of burning ━
Would she feel this way forever? Would she spend the rest of her life waiting for small bursts of emotions to eclipse the numbness? Would she ever buck up and stop feeling so sorry for herself?
Would she be over this grief a little more by now if she wasn’t carrying his kid and couldn’t see him all the time?
She felt guilty for wondering it, though the thought popped into her mind intrusively. Freyja was grateful for this━for their baby, and the fact that she didn’t have to let him go, but it left her in a sort of limbo━and not the same one Theo was in. An incomplete state where she couldn’t completely grieve his loss, and couldn’t continue on as if he were still there, either. Frank couldn’t see him, and she had to watch herself whenever she was around Theo’s brother, which… ended up being a lot more often recently. Another thing she was thankful for.
Other than the support from those around her, Freyja would be doing this alone━physically, for the most part. Theo would be there and everybody would lend a hand, she was sure, but Freyja had to figure out a way to do this. And she couldn’t raise a kid without burning every bit of food she ever touched. Originally, it hadn’t mattered━Theo would take care of all that. But now?
Now, she was walking into one of those classes, midsection protruding enough that everybody moved out of her way━not that she wouldn’t barrel right through them if need be. Freyja had little to no faith about this whole thing━her mom was the best cook she knew, and even she couldn’t do anything about Freyja’s inability to not burn everything she touched. Even before her powers came into play, Freyja was banished from the kitchen, sent to work with her brothers on the farm.
This… did not look like a farm, nor did it look anything like her mother’s kitchen.
Freyja halted just inside the door, one hand near the base of her bump, holding it as if it’d relieve all her anxiety. And it did, at least somewhat, forcing her to draw in a slow, steady breath. It was set up like a chemistry classroom from any movie set in a high school, with two rows of short, standalone counters on each side, all facing one at the front. She could see all the necessary utensils put out on each one, and surely there had to be ovens on the inside of each counter━confirmed only when she took up residence at one in the back. Every moment or so, she looked at Theo for reassuring glances and smiles, trying to find the perfect time to say something without anybody noticing. But, just as she was turning to Theo and raising her hands, the instructor was starting with introductions. Freyja frowned, defeated, and turned back to the woman speaking at them.
“Hi. I’m Freyja, and I can’t make microwave popcorn without burning it.” She snorted, revealing her level of knowledge about this whole thing. The rest of the group laughed, but she continued, “No, I’m serious. If there was a way to boil breastmilk before it left my body, I’m sure I’d find a way. Whenever I bake anything, it’s raw in the middle and burnt on the outside.” Freyja was beaming, though, suddenly happy to amuse everybody else in the room.
“Well, I’ll be sure to keep the fire extinguisher handy.” The instructor quipped, and while Freyja joined the group in a bit of laughter, she could only think, Yeah, you definitely should.
Pasta. From scratch. And that wasn’t even the worst part━they were going to sample everybody’s at the end. Freyja was going to poison the whole group and she knew it, but there was little to nothing she could do to stop it.
By the time she had the dough kneaded, there was enough flour sprinkled everywhere to make her station look as if it’d just been invaded by Christmas in June━or a bunch of Narcos. Either way, the amount of it made it easy to hide her signs to Theo, acting as though she was brushing off flour if anyone cared to look. “I’m honestly a little terrified I’m gonna burn this place down.” Freyja smiled sheepishly, though it wasn’t the same kind of fear as that day in the woods, her abilities used to sear flesh instead of pasta. But the scab on her neck had fully healed, and a checkup with the doctor ensured their baby was still completely fine, so it was forced out of her mind━at least for now. Saved for late in the night when she woke up with a jolt, worried somebody was coming after them again. Poor Grim always jumped and then huddled a little closer, and Freyja started to find comfort in sticking her hand in the freezing cold of Theo’s image. She tried to imagine that it was the new way to feel the warmth of his body against hers, and while it… didn’t necessarily work, Freyja refused to give it up.
“This pasta is gonna taste like shit.” Freyja laughed in her throat, keeping her mouth closed to muffle the sound, though resumed intense focus on the pasta. The recipe was simple, and she had no trouble following it, though that never made meals turn out any more edible. Despite her jokes, Freyja was trying, because once their child started eating solid foods, she didn’t know what she’d do.
THEO DAMASCA | my loves  |
|
THEO DAMASCA
Banshee
Posts: 179
Status:
Married
Partner:
Freyja Damasca
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 20:33:58 GMT
|
Post by THEO DAMASCA on Jul 1, 2021 22:43:34 GMT
One way or another he would’ve been here.
The intention had been there, when he’d handed the gift, to get himself a set of the vouchers too, or steal or two from the stack. Turning up in support, to flash fry steak next to Freyja in a show of complete ease in the kitchen … or just to prevent one of those slips that was gonna leave someone stretching up with a towel flapping at the air to try and shut the shrieking of the alarm off. Support. Laughter rolling between them. A gift given with love. And used with that seemingly endless pall of sadness clinging to them now.
Undoubtedly Frank would keep on delivering those little packages of food even after the baby was born, Uncle Frank continuing to step up the way he had done since the night he’d fallen onto his knees in the freezing cold woods, screaming for his …
Theo cleared his throat, trailing behind Freyja and the bump that could now part the way like Moses and the Red Sea. It was hard to keep his brain off of what had happened, of the near repeat out in the woods when the hunter had come to track her down. So close to losing her and the baby until the sight of her bump and the shriek that she was pregnant had driven him off, still smoking from the flames Freyja had used to protect herself. Not entirely unlike the ones that were likely to spring up today.
Hazel eyes raked the room around her as they always did now, looking for some sign of a threat against the two of them. Trust cracked didn’t heal easily, even if she was never alone now. Theo pressed his lips together, let them curl as they stopped at one of the kitchen counter spaces at the back – out of sight of most. He leaned against the counter at her side, in full view of her as his hands moved. ”You’re gonna do fine,” he promised. ”Gourmet chef in no time.” Maybe they were gonna have to be happy with, not burning down her apartment or his as she tried to cook for their girl.
The frown cut her brow as what she was going to say in response was cut short by the instructor called for introductions. He wanted to reach out, as he always did, to smooth it away with his thumbs and a laugh but short of the times he’d been able to join with her he’d been unable to actually touch her. Theo grinned at her words, nodding away like something was totally explained one. One dark brow rose at her. ”Hot milk on tap? The baby’s gonna love that.” That heat that had almost taken care of the hunter dialled back to a warmth he’d seen and felt for all those months they’d had together … before. ”Hey, I’m sure they’ve always got one ready. You can’t be the only pyromaniac chef here.” He pretended to look around though, like he was taking the instructor’s joke seriously, lips pooching slightly as he studied the space.
If he’d been able to reach out he’d have settled a hand over hers, drawn her in for a moment to soothe with a slide of his fingertips down her back and a kiss just deep enough to pull her out of her head. She was going to do great, he had faith. Although, maybe the fire extinguisher shouldn’t have been the only thing to hand. A phone with 911 on speed dial might’ve come in handy too.
At her side he’d watched Freyja start to put together the dough, keeping his winces for when she was preoccupied by the tasks the instructor was setting out. Once, as flour had plumed up in his direction he’d ducked back but the tiny white motes had sunk through him like he wasn’t even there. So much more than just the invisible man, at least he’d started to appear when you’d covered him in stuff. He shifted back in, as close as he could get without either one of them shying away – that still wasn’t getting any easier. ”I believe in you,” he promised. His lips curled again, that small smile that had been just for her from the start. ”No damage done yet. Just keep listening.” He tapped his finger against his ear and then flicked in the direction of the instructor.
His eyes stayed on Freyja though, the way they so often did now, a reassurance that she was safe. That the hunter hadn’t gotten over his shock and came back. Theo could almost feel the threat like an itch between his shoulder blades, even now here, his back to the door. Dipping his chin he turned, studying the dough like he could tell from a glance alone. ”Have faith padawan. There’s not much here that can go wrong. You only put a pinch of salt in right? No eggshells … I guess, even if you did, it’s just extra crunch right? This one … just a pinch when it gets to the filling.” Bending over the counter, he flicked his finger at the little ramekin of seasoning. Frank had always been the gourmet, despite his time in the field meaning that nine times out of ten he was eating that probably looked like it’d been made by Freyja and tasted just as bad.
|
|
FREYJA DAMASCA
Psychic
Posts: 184
Age:
28
Occupation:
Analyst at The Mystic Falls Courier
Status:
Married
Partner:
Theo Damasca
Played by:
Julia
“But it’s hard, when you’re hurt, to let somebody wreck you again.”
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 18:29:01 GMT
|
Post by FREYJA DAMASCA on Jul 11, 2021 20:35:46 GMT
━ they set me on fire, and i did a lot of burning ━
Once the flour was incorporated with the wet stuff and something that resembled dough (Freyja didn’t trust it) began to form, she lifted it from the bowl and let it flop to the flour-covered counter. With the heel of her palm, Freyja began kneading it; another glare sent Theo’s way as he pointed out the ramekin of seasoning. “She didn’t say to use that.” But Freyja was reaching out anyway, grabbing it and leaving a flour trail on every inch between the dough and the shelf that once housed it.
“If your dough is sticky, add more flour. If it’s tough, it means you’ve added too much flour,” The instructor was looking over the whole group until the last line, where her eyes landed on Freyja, who was covered in flour. She smiled kindly, but it didn’t make Freyja feel any less embarrassed. “Whisk another egg and a tablespoon of water together, then use your hands to sprinkle it over the dough until it’s easy to knead again.”
Freyja smiled sheepishly, frowned at Theo to share in the feeling with him, and then set on doing as she was told. Egg, water, dough. It’s not hard, she mentally repeated to herself, though that didn’t make it any easier.
Finally, the dough was malleable again. A proud smile graced her lips for a moment before focus took over, brows beetled in concentration. Once it was kneaded correctly, and it sprung back when poked, then it could be set aside to rise. Freyja did just that while they started on the sauce, confident, though she knew the worst was yet to come. The actual cooking part was where she struggled, not the preparation. And, with bits of burnt, black gunk in her sauce, Freyja trudged on, with loving glances to Theo along the way. “I know it looks bad, but nothing’s on fire yet, so that’s a good sign.”
The dough was even rising correctly. After thirty minutes, they were told to remove the plastic wrap and poke it again. Carefully, and as though it was a piece of porcelain, Freyja did just that, blissfully surprised when it came out exactly as it was supposed to. She should’ve known, however, that all this good luck had to end sometime.
With the pasta cut and rolled, Freyja dumped it into the boiling water, grinning at Theo━until it spilled over the edge. She mopped it up with a dish cloth, completely soaking the thing while trying to pretend that if she didn’t look up, nobody else would see her fuck up.
That wasn’t even the worst of it. Everything was fine━by Freyja’s standards━until the pasta was in the pan. She would’ve jokingly compared herself to Seamus Finnigan from Harry Potter if it weren’t so true. Within moments of putting the pasta in the pan of sauce, it burst into flames like an actual movie scene. Freyja gasped and stepped away, smacking the ‘off’ button on the touch-controls, though that didn’t make the fire die right away. She tried to control it, to will the flames down with her abilities, but it continued in its little blaze until the teacher saved her with that aforementioned fire extinguisher.
“Wow, I thought you were kidding.”
With tears in her eyes, she glanced up at the instructor, trying not to look so upset. The woman caught it anyway and started cooing to Freyja that it wasn’t a big deal, and everybody had trouble sometimes. Being babied made her feel worse, as did the realization that everybody was staring.
And then she looked to Theo, and Freyja felt her heart breaking all over again. How was she supposed to take care of his baby, of the little piece of him they’d all been betting on? She wondered if Theo would’ve ever actually chosen her to have his children if he'd known how useless she was at simple tasks. The one growing inside her wasn’t intentional; neither of them had planned to have kids this early on in their relationship, and was he now worrying that she couldn’t do this on her own? Was he only sticking around to make sure she didn’t accidentally light their kid up like the pasta sauce? Would he tell her to pass their baby on to somebody else━somebody who’d actually be able to care for him?
Freyja made a beeline for the exit, tearing through the classroom with her head down━as if the tears weren’t obvious from her dramatic escape. She griped on herself for that, too━nobody needed to see her hormones blazing about.
Was that all this was? Just pregnancy hormones? It didn’t feel like it as she found her way out into the hall with her head in her hands, tears still pouring out. Freyja finally slowed a few feet from the door, and eventually looked up, a sad smile pulling up the edges of her lips when she spotted Theo. She didn’t deserve him━Freyja knew that much already. He was too sweet for her, even if she’d just proven she was pretty much a lost cause.
“I don’t know how I’m going to look after our baby if I can’t even boil pasta.” She swallowed, shaky hands lifting to roughly wipe at her cheeks, only adding to the red splotches. “I always wanted to be a mom, but I can’t do it by myself. And I know you’re here, and I have Frank and my parents and…” Freyja shook her head, finally saying what she needed, even with the fear she might upset him. Surely he’d been upset enough by her display in here. “But they’re not gonna live with me. It’s just gonna be me and our baby alone, and… this wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a family, I wanted you,” She sobbed, rough and painful in her throat, hands clutching at her necklace until she needed them again.
“I should’ve burned that hunter alive. He never should’ve touched you.” But he had, and this was their future. No amount of happy, little moments could change the fact that they’d never be married and could never have any more kids.
But God did she love Theo, and even through all this, she still wouldn’t want to change a thing. She didn’t regret a second of time spent together, least of all the moment they met.
THEO DAMASCA | end w yours? |
|
THEO DAMASCA
Banshee
Posts: 179
Status:
Married
Partner:
Freyja Damasca
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 11, 2024 20:33:58 GMT
|
Post by THEO DAMASCA on Jul 26, 2021 17:18:57 GMT
He’d pictured them side by side at this thing in a different way. Him hamming it up, getting every damn step of the recipes right, catching those glares and cutting them off with a grin. Slipping in beside Freyja at her counter, hands over hers, guiding, coaching, nudging her away from being on constant speed dial to the fire station. He could belly up now but Theo knew he couldn’t have closed that distance to wrap himself around her even if he wanted to. Inside of her, but not against, not around. The torture of that hadn’t let up since the scan, it never would.
Theo’s lips curled faintly at the glare, hazel eyes narrowing just enough to have them crinkling at the corners. He could practically feel that dull ache in the heel of his own hand as she began to need the dough. Joking his way through the first part of the lesson, he’d tried to lift that stress off of Freyja’s shoulders, from the eyes that showed everything. Maybe it had worked just enough, her glare drawing a shrug out of him. ”Call it improvisation. Trust me, it’ll taste great.” Better than Freyja anticipated anyway. A glance over his shoulder showed the instructor studying them all, that little smile on her face probably supposed to reassuring but he didn’t doubt for a moment that it wouldn’t soothe Freyja the way his own could’ve done.
He swallowed hard, trying for it as he reassured her again with his hands that she was doing great. It was cold comfort at this point since she had no choice but to do this alone. He wouldn’t be able to reach through the veil when the baby was crying to soothe his daughter, he couldn’t just roll over at night to draw her into the harbour of his arms when exhaustion pushed her to the brink of tears. Just that hover at the side, pride on lips that couldn’t tell her a damn thing. ”I knew you could do it. It’s looking great.” Theo felt his belief burn bright just lone enough for Freyja to start in on the next step. The black spots swimming their way into the sauce had him inwardly wincing but he couldn’t let a bit of it show. There was plenty of time for the flames to start, that stab of anticipation in the pit of his stomach drawing him up straight. ”A good sign that nothing’s gonna go wrong here, baby.” Trust that it wouldn’t was clutched onto with metaphorical fists.
Until that slow simmer of unfortunate possibility boiled over with the pasta water. Scalding water slopping over to be mopped up with Freyja’s head down. Pasta drained and added to the pan before the flames leapt. Theo’s heart lurched in his chest, his body stiffening as he tried to move in. What the hell could he do? It wasn’t like he could stick a hand through the flames to smother them or even snatch up the wet towel to toss over it. Freyja slapped at the controls, the gasp that’d slipped from her lips tearing at him as he brought both hands up to cover his face.
The teacher rushed in to the rescue but with a comment that only tipped those scales further. Throat working, he wanted to reach out, to ease her head down to his chest with those quiet rumbles of assurance, arms around her, cheek against her hair. Skin burning with it she looked up at him and Theo was pressing his lips together with that sick feeling. He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes, hands already coming up to sign. ”Baby, it’s OK…” It wasn’t though, was it?
Death had cut him off from the life he should’ve had. Left them both adrift in this pain with a baby on the way, even if they wanted to let go, they couldn’t for the baby’s sake. He wouldn’t. The love that had gripped him so tight after that first night at Di Marco’s tethering him to her, to their baby. For them Theo would tolerate an eternity of this, battling what tried to shatter that life. Hearing the murmurs he hoped hadn’t reached Freyja’s ears, he trailed her, rushing out in her wake until she stopped just outside the doors.
Stopping in front of her Theo desperately wanted to open his arms to ease that heartbreak. The smile he mustered up was tinged with just as much sadness. Promises that it was alright dying on his fingers because they were empty. Who knew? He always would’ve said they’d get through everything together but the hunter had turned that into a lie. ”You will,” he promised, the words echoing as he mouthed them to her. Fingers itched to catch her wrists and pull her in but all Theo could do was shake his head right back. ”Being able to cook isn’t everything,” he promised. ”You’re incredible, you’re going to be incredible for her. A mother who’d fight for her, who would do everything in the world to protect her and take care of her. Baby, that’s all that matters. It’s all she’ll ever be able to ask for.” The tears started to roll down his cheeks for her, for the baby, for him. For all that had been taken from them.
He eased in as close as he could, hands rising as though they could settle on her arms for a moment before he dropped them. No touching, no brushing away her tears, just the promises his hands could spell out and the promises written in his eyes as he dipped his knees to meet hers. ”It’s not the way either of us wanted it, but I’m going to be right here, you’re never going to be doing this alone.” The hunter had almost made sure she wouldn’t do it at all. Freyja’s life and the baby’s in his hands as he’d cornered her. Only the sight of that faint bump and the sobbed claim of pregnancy driving him back. ”It wouldn’t have changed a thing. We can’t turn back the clock, no matter how much I want to. We can do this though. You, me, the baby, we’re gonna be OK. I promise you that, baby. We’re gonna be OK.” He couldn’t guarantee that any more but the promise tripped off of his tongue anyway as he dipped his head down next to hers as though proximity alone would be the reassurance touch couldn’t be. ”Let's go home, OK?” Hands moved in that small globe of space between them, the space he should’ve been able to close to settle his hands against the bump, to soothe the life they had created together. Slowly Theo drew away, offering up that reassurance in a slow smile as he tilted his head towards the entrance, hand extended with fingers that curled towards her, just a hair's breadth away as they made their way out, leaving smoke and the lingering fear of failing parents behind them.
|
|
