ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Oct 16, 2021 21:40:49 GMT
 ━ nothing good is born from lies ━ september 14th
SHE HAD GOTTEN USED to not seeing Will for nearly two years but, somehow, after four months, Zoey felt like she was suffocating. He was probably the worst person she’d ever met (and she’d put away a lot of awful criminals), but it was like giving an addict another taste after months of sobriety only to force them to quit cold turkey once again. No, that was a poor analogy━she wasn’t addicted to Will. She could see things that made her think of him without being forced to pick up the phone or slip into his office━she could control herself. That last time in early May gave her a glimpse into the man that had once been her husband, and it made her dwell on things she thought she’d buried long ago, but it didn’t change anything.
And the worst part was… none of that was true.
Her birthday ripped open wounds she couldn’t bandage, treat or even kiss better. Nothing helped. She ached for him but not in the way a junkie would; she clutched his shirt at night and wished he was thinking of her, too, but not in an unhealthy manner. It hurt━everything hurt. She wanted to know if she’d been wrong, if her Will was still buried there; if there’d been some sort of misunderstanding.
Somewhere deep within, she knew there hadn’t, but rational thoughts wouldn’t stave off the heart’s cravings.
Pats on the back from the higher-ups, approving messages in emails were all supposed to make her feel better. This was everything she’d ever wanted; she’d proved to all those who doubted━even herself━that she could do it. She could be a federal agent━and a damn good one at that. And achieving her career goals didn’t mean her life was fulfilled. She’d wanted a husband, a house, a family━that white picket fence, American Dream hadn’t loosened its grip on each generation of Washingtons since they’d arrived in America. Nobody came along that could fill the William-sized gap in her life, and now, in Mystic Falls, with him, it was even harder. He wasn’t awful. He wasn’t worse than anybody she’d ever met. Part of her still loved him, but all Zoey wanted was to let go of that piece of herself.
He left her alone, at least. It was supposed to help, allow her to focus on her case, but every step closer felt like two steps back. More robberies in the area, priceless works of art gone missing and Zoey seemed always to be showing up in the aftermath. Those with precious pieces didn’t want to advertise that they had them, which was understandable━even if she’d pulled all her hair out by the end of her placement here.
She was in the middle of doing just that when Jill practically busted down her door. A sweet girl, a little green on the job, but excited to help out where she could, and she’d (somehow) taken a liking to Zoey. The agent didn’t think of herself as unfriendly or introverted, but she couldn’t understand why such a vibrant, seemingly-young-but-actually-not-much-younger girl would attach herself to Zoey’s hip. Sometimes she wondered if she’d reached ‘cranky and old’ before her fortieth birthday.
She knew what day it was. Her mind drifted back to him every so often, thinking of a game plan. A simple walk-by his door, a quick ‘Happy Birthday’ as if it were a ‘hello,’ and then a disappearing act. Or a note, perhaps? Stuffed in his mailbox, a somewhat impersonal birthday card… though, there was nothing impersonal between exes. ‘Hey, I know I’ve seen you naked a hundred times, and we’ve been with each other through the best and worst moments of our lives, but here’s a birthday card with just my name scribbled at the bottom.’ Every turn seemed like the wrong one, so she didn’t bother.
And, of course, Jill wanted to ensure Zoey was coming tonight. She’d already been invited; they were doing some sort of gathering for Will, birthday drinks... and Zoey didn’t miss Jill’s comment about how good-looking he was, the half ‘you-should-go-for-him’ and half ‘I-would-tap-that’ and all of it turning Zoey’s stomach.
“But I guess he’s married? I dunno. He always has a wedding band on, but he never talks about his wife.” Her voice dropped to a stage whisper, “Do you think she died?”
If the rest of it didn’t make her puke, this surely would. “Yep.” Zoey answered curtly and without thinking, a mutter under her breath before she hurriedly resumed, “No. I’m not sure. We shouldn’t gossip.” Jill frowned, but she didn’t protest. Her relentless pushing continued and didn’t cease until Zoey said she’d try to come. Keyword: try.
Another bit of guilt-tripping, and the girl was gone.
Zoey managed to flip-flop on the idea for the rest of her night before finally deciding━an hour later than her ‘getting ready’ deadline━to show up. She’d call it fashionably late, have a drink or two, wish William a Happy Birthday and then get home in time for a good night’s sleep. Or, at least, that was the plan… and Zoey should’ve known by this point in her life that whatever she mentally laid out for herself wasn’t due to stick.
The entire time she spent curling her hair, she was inundated by memories of him━of them. His first birthday after they’d started dating. Will was clearly the better cook between them, but she thought it would be in bad taste to make him slave away over a hot stove for his day. Zoey had debated selling her soul for a reservation at some high-brow place his father would probably approve of, but instead took him to all the hole-in-the-wall restaurants she’d grown up with. A little piece of her given to him without sacrificing his surely uppity palate. They weren’t expensive places, but the food was the best she’d ever tasted (second to Will’s, of course).
And that piece soon turned into a whole, and she was left destroyed by him.
At the last minute, Zoey very nearly hadn’t gotten into her car. She paced her living room, then stared down the door, fought off tears, and finally decided she was being silly.
Zoey’s father had already mistaken her for her mother over the phone that morning, and nothing would hurt worse than that. She was stronger than whatever shit would bubble to the surface in Will’s presence.
Or so she thought.
Though Zoey briefly scanned when she arrived, she didn’t find him━didn’t want to. She could feel him, and that was enough. He was there, she knew it, probably off stealing their mutual colleagues’ affection and flirting with that gorgeous woman in HR. Zoey saw her first and didn’t bother trying another effortless ‘search’ for Will. She found Jill instead, who smiled brighter than anybody she’d met in Mystic Falls thus far. She reminded Zoey of Adelaide.
It took two drinks and an awkward conversation with one of the detectives (who Zoey was pretty sure was hitting on her) before she finally found the courage to approach Will.
Already, her plan was shot to shit, and it started circling the drain as soon as she found him. God, there was no reason for him to look like that━even more gorgeous without that air of professionalism hanging over their heads. This was no-man’s-land and, other than it technically being a staff party, there was no need for their proverbial pissing contest over jurisdiction… right?
Zoey took a good swig of her third drink before moving up to him━in hindsight, a lot closer than she should’ve, but she wasn’t going to suddenly take one step back and risk looking meek or submissive. “Hey,” A smile broke across her lips before she could stop it, the greeting more of a gentle sigh. “I…” She didn’t owe him an explanation. He was nice enough to back down when it was her birthday, so she awarded him the same white flag. “... Happy Birthday.” Better. Easier. Zoey hesitated and then leaned in, fixing to only wrap one arm around him━the other stretched to the side to hold her drink out of the way━but as soon as she was near enough and… he smelled like… and his body... and… her other arm curled around Will, glass pressed between his shoulder blades.
It was like their hug in the stairwell all over again, except this time she sank deeper and faster as if a weight was tied to her ankle. She felt her chest settle against his, the puff of air she’d (apparently) held onto slipping out, a new breath drawn of just him. Briefly, Zoey forgot about appearances; all the people they knew and worked with, that lady (she was being polite) from HR, Jill, the fact that Zoey had pretended not to know him and the wife who was supposed to be dead…
Though she’d wished ill on the part of her that had loved him, it would never die. She would never not be his wife in some way, and while it was painfully obvious now, she still held on. To him, and to the piece of her that loved him on each of his birthdays before today, and every day in between.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | no notes. |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
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Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Nov 4, 2021 20:58:35 GMT
 September 14th A two finger stomp at the keyboard, less a chicken peck, more the drilling of fingers through that flimsy plastic casing. It had been as though the damn thing had taken umbrage with his abandonment of it, as though the issue was somehow on its part, not his. Will punched harder, his teeth gritting tighter with each electronic squeal from it. That was almost convulsive now, the tension that snapped muscles in his shoulders tight with the hollow click-clack of every set of shoes down that hallway. Not turning, not wanting to feel that agonising clutch in his chest when he caught sight of his ex-wife, not wanting to feel the even more painful twist of his gut when it wasn’t Zoey.Will paused, dipping his head. He didn’t see the letters on the keyboard, or his fingers resting on them, not really. The bickering crackling like static between his partners drifted away. Months ago, in the tight confines of the stairwell they hadn’t just careened off of one another with that solid wall of hurt between them. Zoey had started to tumble because of him and he’d reached right through it. Blindly. Fumbling in the dark cloud of his guilt until for just a moment, he had been holding her again. The pitch rose behind him, reaching a crescendo that made him squeeze his eyes shut. More often than not he could feel her fingers clutching at his shirt the moment he did. Will shrugged his shoulders, trying to rub that phantom touch away against the coarse fabric of the cheap office chairs. It had lingered for months, forced avoidance and as much distance as one small town could offer had done nothing about taking the edge off of those memories.Tears in Zoey’s eyes, all that pain raw and radiating grief like a third degree burn. Guilt no sort of balm for any of it. Memories had haunted him after he’d left the station that night. He’d stared into the fridge, mentally piecing together half a dozen things he would have cooked if he hadn’t imploded their marriage before her birthday, or the one before it, had rolled around. There hadn’t been candles burning across every surface when he’d set his own dinner down at that painfully empty table that night. An omelette, salad, an aim at something so plain that he wouldn’t have memories threaded through every mouthful. He’d failed miserable. Their first night together, the plate he’d brought back to bed for the two of them to share. One fork, not an ounce of chagrin on his face as he’d made it clear it had been his work and not some secret maid kept in the coat closet for moments like this. A hand shoved at his shoulder, laughing words goading him to open his eyes again before that hand reached over. The power button pushed, the juice pulled from the computer and his memories. ’Come on. Up, up, you’re not spending it here.’Insistence in the words and the prodding hands. How they’d even found out it was his birthday was beyond him, although between the two of them his partners seemed determined to pick apart every aspect of his life. Nosy to a degree that would have put Sherlock Holmes to shame and, frustratingly, just as quick minded and skilled. Will folded his left hand into a fist, running his thumb along the edge of the gold band that still circled his fourth finger. His marriage, as it had been, the ragged remnants of it now, were the one thing he hadn’t allowed them near. There was a look on the Peril’s face as he pushed to his feet but the bigger pain in his ass was already shoving his jacket at him, manhandling him into it before he was unceremoniously pushed towards the door. Drinks. A celebration of another year added to that monstrously huge form, like a ring on a tree. They had involved almost the whole station it seemed, deputies, support staff, detectives, calling out to him as he trailed out the door like a condemned man headed for the gallows. All of them vowing to be there, invites spreading along the grapevine, hanging in the air so heavy he could barely breathe as he found himself bundled into the Peril’s car.They’d allowed him to shower and dress at least. Small, feminine, utterly infuriating hands pressing clothes into his hands as he’d clutched at the towel around his hips in his bathroom. Invasive and everything in the place had likely been picked over while he’d been scalding that phantom touch from his skin again. Sat in pride of place on a stool at the head of the table, four or five drinks in with just as many littering the table in front of him like he was a man in the middle of the Sahara dying of thirst instead of a divorced man feeling his heart drop and lurch as those they had dropped that hangman’s trapdoor out from under him as his ex-wife had walked in. Will drew in a breath, tried for a smile as he looked away to one of the patrolwomen at his side. He wasn’t sure he even knew her name, but she’d been friendly all evening, an inane chatter he hadn’t heard one word in three of. Not like Zoey, not like the snatches of her voice he heard in that crowd for a painful hour.Shoulders tight again, eyes fixed on the table, the growing line of empty glasses, the patrolwoman who’d been replaced by the Peril and then one of the IT whizzes, a man who seemed to take great glee in recalling every single one of his technological faux pas. Will glanced blearily at his wrist. How long did you have to make it through your own birthday celebrations before you could steal away and nurse your broken heart in quiet? Long enough that you didn’t make it out the door before she was right there. Zoey melted out of the crowd like the sun sliding out from behind a dark cloud. The smile that broke across her face drawing one crookedly out of him as those iron bands of regret tightened around his chest. ”Hey,” Will rasped. He shifted on the stool, rose steadily as she started to say something and broke off. Were those walls up again up could he… She was already doing it, one arm wrapping around him, then the other. Will told himself to remain still, not to give in that softening of his shields the alcohol had accomplished – for her too. ”Thank you.” The words hurt on their way out, his throat constricting as tight as his chest as he swallowed.In the middle of a crowd thick with their coworkers she didn’t pull away and God, he didn’t have the strength to. The subtle shift of muscle and flesh against one another, a slow dance he’d once mastered every step of. ”I wasn’t expecting any of this,” he murmured, one hand rubbing slowly over her back as he stood there, probably with every set of eyes in the place on him, head dipped down until all he could smell was the scent of her. ”Or you to come … it’s good to see you.” The small voice in the back of his head cackled, reminding him that if he’d given up the only other sure thing in his life he could’ve done every night. This could’ve been a bar back home, a team they’d once been at the centre of together around them. Will cleared his throat, lifting his head enough to be able to at least catch her profile, his lips almost brushing her cheek. ”What are you having? I should get you a drink, or at least offer up one of these.” Amusement warming his voice for a moment. At the rate they had all been going there was enough booze still on the table to send the thing crashing to the floor, more than enough to send him down after it too. |
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
|
Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Nov 23, 2021 16:40:48 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
She wasn’t anticipating it, either. Zoey felt his nose and its gentle nudge near her neck, her shoulder, his hand making slow plays on her back until━oh, God. She might turn into jello right there in his arms. “I didn’t expect to be here, either.” Zoey mumbled, and then there it was. The stinging.
He pulled away first. Of course he did. Zoey was almost embarrassed, knew it should’ve been her drawing the line in the sand and pulling away when it became too much. She almost ripped from him like a bandaid, but it was slow, a gentle, soothing burn that eventually erupted low in her belly. His lips lingered there, breath in her ear, the gentle scrape of a man’s jaw at the end of the day, only this was her man. Or… had been, at some time or another.
He felt like hers now.
Zoey couldn’t break from him as she’d wanted, stayed hovering there with their cheeks barely separated, just enough to catch his blue eyes and that little patch of brown she’d studied from close up a hundred times before. It felt like the first again now━first touch, the closing of that invisible space between two acquaintances; first hug, a shared warmth, bond; first kiss…
No. God no. His mouth was moving, and Zoey looked at it, could hear him, but the words didn’t penetrate. Not yet. She was stuck there, in this moment, while he’d seemingly managed to pull himself out━enough to speak, anyway. She might have strangled him if she could move, let alone breathe.
Her hands began to fall, the weight of her drink forcing one to fall while the other merely followed suit. Fixed on his biceps, she couldn’t even get her free hand entirely around it, stuck on the broad muscles beneath his shirt. “I’m not entirely sure. The first drink was forced on me, it was bright blue and too sugary, but if Jill actually listened to me, then this should be scotch.” Her dad’s drink. She didn’t make a move to look at the glass, just shifted it over Will’s other arm and stayed locked on his eyes. Zoey smiled, nose brushing gently along the side of his own, wondering how many millimetres there were between his lips and hers.
“... She told me I had to come,” This was too much, too difficult, and if she didn’t start to darken that line soon, one of them would kick sand over it and make it disappear completely. Her head shifted, drawing back barely an inch, enough to turn her head and find Jill on the other side of the bar, jaw on the floor, gawking at them.
“Tried setting me up with you.” They were close enough for her to whisper. Zoey rolled her eyes at the sheer hilarity, grinning. “She reminds me of a border collie. Of Addy.” Laughing gently, she found Will’s eyes again, still in necking distance but not quite as life-threatening as before.
For a second it occurred to her that William’s memory of her sister was different. His image of Adelaide was whole, alive. Zoey could never know exactly what he was thinking, but she knew that. When she looked into Will’s eyes now, she could still see her little sister happy, giggling, warming up to her brother-in-law after childlike threats to seriously harm him if he ever broke Zoey’s heart. She saw them ice skating in New York, bundled up in coats and scarves and drinking hot chocolate; getting ice cream when it was so hot out it felt like her skin would melt off the bone—or merely the dessert creating sticky messes on their hands. It pained her to see love in Will’s eyes still; family, a home that didn’t exist anywhere but here and her dreams. No matter the distance, across the bar, the station or from New York to Virginia, they were always tethered; connected in a way she hadn’t been to anyone before, and never be would again. Even if Zoey found love, they’d only know tombstones and shadows cast out by her memories, never Adelaide’s smile or her mother’s jokes. Will held her heart like no one ever would.
And he’d broken it.
She’d become drawn in again by those ghosts in his smile. Finally breaking away, Zoey found breath in her lungs again and half-turned from Will to swallow at least half of her drink. It gave her body the little kickstart it needed to put space between them again and secure that wall in the form of a tight smile. She had to remind herself that he didn’t deserve to have this part of her, though each mouthful of liquor slowly eroded her defences. “No, I should buy you a drink, considering it’s your birthday.” Her smile warmed, if only for a second. There was no need to be rude to him━reserved, cut-off, sure, but not rude. “But you look like you’re fully stocked here. Unless you want something else,” The double entendre didn’t catch itself in her mind; a gently innocent gaze flashed Will’s way, unknowingly agreeing with herself that she’d be okay spending the rest of the night drinking with him. Neither of them was up for this; she’d been a home-body her whole life and, well, then she recalled that perhaps Will had never been one as she’d thought. He certainly liked frequenting places like this during nights she slept alone in their bed.
“Damn,” She mumbled, eyes glazing over the crowd. “I never thought a bar in Mystic Falls could get this packed. It kinda reminds me of home.” Zoey looked to him again, “Do you remember Eddy’s birthday? I never thought we’d escape that night. The bar was so full I thought we’d get trampled, and I lost you at least twice.” She laughed, thinking of that grungey bar they’d travelled to for their coworker’s rowdy party━and their unsuccessful plan of spending an hour there, then retreating home to pyjamas and a movie. “Oh my God, and we made a safety meeting spot and everything.” Overcome with laughter, Zoey’s head tipped towards Will, the sound trailing brightly out of it. “The out-of-commission payphone by the bathrooms! How many times did we end up using it? I remember finding you there one time looking like a puppy tied up outside a store.” And he’d looked so cute, too, when Zoey finally appeared and kissed him ‘hello,’ saving them both from spending the night without one another. She missed that. Him.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE |  |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
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Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Dec 5, 2021 19:46:55 GMT
September 14th
Clean breaks were supposed to heal easier. A snap right through and you didn’t end up with those ragged ends tearing you up or those irritating little splinters lodged in tender parts of you. The divorce had been about as clean as he could make it for her. His leaving town an attempt to let it all heal but Will could still feel those jagged ends of what they had been piercing something vital inside of him. They grated together as the two of them stood there, holding on to one another in the flood of people in the bar. Almost slotting perfectly back together but there was still the gap his betrayal had placed between the two of them. Still those jagged little pieces piercing deep enough to have him aching as they remained holding on to one another.
He should have pulled back, let that gap open wide away but he couldn’t find that strength in him to wrench it apart again. A sharp breath, the anticipation of that agony striking afresh kept him there. His face so close to her throat, his hand on her back, feeling the familiar hollows and delicate lines he had traced with fingers and mouth, the feel of them imprinted bone deep even after all this time. ”It’s … a good surprise,” he murmured hoarsely. One that was going to have questions flung at him like shotgun pellets later.
Every set of eyes had likely been on the two of them as they had stood there, locked against one another as they had once been on the dance floor of the ludicrous reception Dalton had thrown for the two of them. A room of people, half of which he hadn’t known, the two of them in the middle of if as they’d swayed around in their first dance. He had only had eyes for Zoey then and now Will could almost imagine he did again. They could’ve all been watching them and it wouldn’t change anything for now.
A trace of heat above the dark stubble of the late hour, a slide of his hand around to her hip as he glanced back over his shoulder at the drinks. Had any of them known? He wouldn’t have put it past his partners to see liquoring him up as a way to have his control slipping away. An experiment to find out exactly what was going on between him and the FBI agent. Will didn’t glance around to find the two of them in the morass of trained investigations. His eyes returned to hers, his smile curving enough to flash teeth. Her hands shifted, settling on his biceps but not letting go yet.
Will winced as she spoke, dipping his head far enough to sniff at the glass she held. Definitely something approaching scotch if it wasn’t it. He’d shared glasses of it with her dad, in that all too brief time they’d been together. A man’s talk over a drink, a father’s interrogation of the man who adored his daughter. ”After blue and too sugary I wouldn’t trust it but I can’t talk,” he admitted with a brief chuckle. ”They kept pushing them and I have no idea what I’ve had.” The sweetness of whatever had been in those glasses was on his lips now and he was almost certain if he closed the tiny gap and jammed those broken ends of their relationship back together with a kiss he would taste what had been forced on her.
That tiny brush of skin was enough to have the ache travelling north and south at the same time, thickening his throat as he tried to find the strength to stop himself from closing that gap. ”So I have Jill to thank, hmm?” Oh, and there she was. Will cleared his throat, a trace of bashfulness working through his expression as he nodded at the gawking woman. ”Oh did she now?” he asked so quietly it felt like the words were barely making their way out. They were all dimmed beneath the brightness of that grin. Undoubtedly Addy would have tried cutting him off at the knees if she’d been here now.
His eyes settled on hers, even that inch gap not enough to stop the connection from snapping. Velveteen eyes he’d wrapped himself in a hundred times, ones that had filled with hurt every time he’d pinched the words back, the ones he couldn’t meet at the end. Warm now with the thought of her sister. Her devotion to her family had always amazed him when his own had been such a ragged tangle of step-siblings and step-mothers and a father whose only focus had been on others’ opinions of him. They’d accepted him and when he’d shattered what they had it hadn’t only been Zoey he’d lost but the so much more he’d gained because of who she was, who they were.
Throat thick he smiled for her and let her ease back finally to gulp down her drink. Will cleared his throat, went to reach for his own before she had him groaning. ”Much more and someone’s going to be peeling me up from the floor in an hour or two,” he admitted. He picked up one of the glasses, squinted at it dubiously before he took a cautious sip. ”Maybe in a minute. I’m not so sure I should trust any of these. I think maybe this one’s from Jill…” He raised his brows, glanced past Zoey to the woman and jiggled the glass in the air in question. If it had been either of his partners he’d have been worried that something had been slipped into it. Truth serum most likely, looking to intensify the lip loosening nature of the drinks.
He was already close enough to that, Zoey’s words catching slowly in his breath until that ache was back. Words flared in it, wanting to burst past. An apology. Knees hitting the floor here – in front of that crowd Zoey was taking in. There had never been something new, someone new. An empty bed each morning here, the ghost of her drifting away with his waking every morning, leaving the ache of an unhealed wound sharp in his chest as he padded into the bathroom or out to the kitchen.
Will sipped at what he was fairly sure was a vodka and soda, breaking off into a rumble of a chuckle as Zoey slipped further back into memories, drawing him with her like they were heading back into that dance. ”I had nightmares about it for weeks after,” he admitted with a grin. ”It was like a maze. I thought as long as I could keep my eyes on you I’d make it out somehow.” He’d kept that thread between them in the packed bar, fingers finding hers in the press of people when they’d been separated, trying to worm his way back towards that payphone whenever they’d been torn apart and lost in those eddies. ”Three times, at least,” Will chuckled. ”Actually, four, the last time I pulled you out of there.” She’d emerged from the crowd like a life saver tossed out into those brutal waters for him. His hand curling around her neck as she’d eased in with that kiss, a plea to escape that last time whispered in her ear like admitting it out loud would be blood in the water.
The skim of his hand down to her elbow could’ve been another thin thread of that red now but he wasn’t ready for her to slip away into this crowd. There’d be no reaching for one another then, he knew it. Once the connection was snapped it would be gone again for months, leaving him hollow and aching, those jagged ends tearing fresh wounds every time he caught so much as a glimpse of her. ”Give me a hand?” Will asked softly, tilting his head back towards the glasses. ”Perhaps if we share I won’t be crawling out of here on hands and knees tonight.” Not physically at least, he’d just be doing that mentally. Sliding his hand down, taking hers, he led her to the bench seat behind the table he’d had pride of place at. Another two glasses arriving as he settled. A groan, as he shot her an apologetic grin. Perhaps he’d been wrong, this had been that flash of blood in the water.
They still drifted in, stopping by the table with well wishes and gimlet eyes ticking back and forth between them. At some point his partners bellied up but the Peril had pulled their irrepressible third away from the crowd in the end. Jill appeared in that growing fog, and for a stretch he could almost forget the wound even existed. Like old times, Zoey’s head a weight against his shoulder, his hand finding her knee under the table, whispered words slipping between them as he almost pressed his lips to her ear. Drinks pressed on them until it seemed as though the table would collapse with them. In the middle of it the tiny cupcake the Peril had appeared with. Heat rising candle bright in his cheeks as he’d blown it out.
Crumbs all that remained now and the crowd around them thinning. ”I’m not sure this is a wise move,” he admitted lightly. The blue and sugary had appeared, a pair of them set down like offerings. Will was sure he could already taste it, and would again before the night was out if he downed it. He turned his head again, dropped his face down until his lips were almost brushing the top of her head. ”Maybe we should rendezvous by the payphone and sneak out? It’s been an incredible night.” Even this was going to have the wound aching afresh in the morning, those ends of bone close to poking through the skin again. But worth it, every moment of this a taste of what might’ve been … a gift, even if it would be one whose treasuring would continue to bring pain after.
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Dec 10, 2021 16:38:27 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
Was this denial? Could she honestly not blame herself for the way she clasped his hand when she sat down and agreed to something she never should’ve been near? Zoey thought she would’ve known better than to fall for those old tricks: taking her hand and acting as though he couldn’t put each drink away like he used to. It took time to draw her in before; a hand in hers wasn’t enough, and she wondered if their marriage would make it easier or more difficult for him now.
In the morning, Zoey would tell herself it wasn’t difficult at all and that she was stupid for playing right into his trap—even if he was being gentlemanly and she was still slipping.
‘Helping him’ with the liquor turned into more empty glasses than she cared to remember, and after that silly cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle of it, she’d come close again and forgot to move away. As soon as her head hit his shoulder, Zoey was drawing in Will’s warmth, finding her spot there as if it’d only been a short adjournment—as if she hadn’t been missing his body for a year and six months.
The tingle in her lower stomach never ceased━a traitor just like that little voice that was supposed to tell you when you’d gone too far. As a detective, she was in tune with that voice—or she was supposed to be. Perhaps it was broken now. Perhaps she’d stopped trusting it, and it fled after a year and six months.
In any case, the alcohol didn’t help. She’d wrapped a hand around Will’s wrist, the one that rested on her knee, and wondered whether she was stopping it from rising or desperately begging her hands not to drag his fingers up herself. On more than one occasion, she nearly bit the bullet and just went for it. Maybe he was toying with her, but she’d get to see if he really had any intention of taking this further. However, the worry that he might make her look foolish was too strong.
‘I’m not sure this is a wise move.’
Finally lifting her head from his shoulder, Zoey took a moment to centre herself with gravity again, blinking slowly until the blue slushies came into focus. She wasn’t drunk enough to pretend this was a good idea—the slushies. Will was a bad idea that had worked itself straight in her mind, and she didn’t bother to worry over it yet. But if it was a spur-of-the-moment night, then she’d start with the blue… gunk.
“You’re no fun.” Neither was Zoey, and she thought that’s what had made them such a perfect couple—steady and in it for the long run. Apparently, he hadn’t wanted that, so maybe she’d beat him at his own game tonight. Grabbing the cold glass, Zoey downed half of it before she had to stop herself. “Brain freeze.” She groaned, face scrunched up while she blindly put down the drink as if it were an active bomb. Soon enough, the pain passed, and those brown eyes were trained on his, finding the tiny piece of her in them. Zoey was (somehow) still grinning wildly when she found his shoulder again, settling in like his warmth would melt the drink right out of her.
His suggestion came just in time; she’d give anything to turn the clock back to the night of Eddy’s birthday—when things were still good between them, and her family was whole.
“I think that’s your best idea yet.” Zoey laughed, hand sliding up from the crook of his wrist to Will’s elbow, squeezing gently. “It doesn’t have to stop being incredible.” The mumble was barely audible, though she was feeling bold enough now to hope he’d heard it.
Her head came up once more, slowly, lips closing the gap when his couldn’t. She didn’t kiss him, but they brushed over the edge of his lips and scraped the stubble she’d felt earlier. To hell with it, she thought, What was the point in justifying her actions now? He was so close she could practically taste him again—part of her wondered how she hadn’t forgotten it by now, but she supposed some things never died. “Let’s go home.” Praying he knew what that would mean, and that he wouldn’t choose this moment to reveal his master plan of embarrassing her, Zoey planted a featherlight kiss where she’d barely met his lips.
Leaving was a blur, as was the taxi ride and the arrival at his building. Zoey’s heart pounded so hard in her chest that it drew attention away from everything but his hand—still secured in her own—and Will’s presence beside her. They were so close in the back of the cab, warm thighs brushing against one another, little touches bringing back the memory of their love. Was she pretending this was a night like any other before things went south? That tingling, the buzzing in her belly was leading Zoey now, and she was afraid to think about where it would take her.
What was past slipping? Zoey didn’t often curse when it wasn’t needed, but fucked seemed to be the apt word.
And that part of her brain—the same one that drove her to drink that blue thing—hoped she would be soon.
She was too… everything right now to worry.
Squeezing his hand before she finally released it, she turned to Will and forgot about the numbers ticking by on the way to the penthouse—ugh, really?—while that same palm pressed to the centre of his broad chest. She wanted it off already, to be stripped bare with him again in a million different ways, but sex with her ex-husband in his apartment building’s elevator was a new low even Zoey couldn’t talk herself into right now. The opposite hand gathered the hair at the back of Will’s head in a fist, and she kissed him until her face turned as blue as the thing that had undone them.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
|
Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Dec 22, 2021 16:36:33 GMT
September 14th This was going to pay him back later. When Zoey’s common sense finally slipped out from under the fog thick cover of liquor and Jill’s encouragement and she realised that she’d tumbled back into their old ways with her ex-husband. The quick snap of sense and regret in dark eyes would cut him to the quick the way it had once done before. He’d thought it was a mortal wound before, one that certainly hadn’t healed clean but a second cut after he’d exposed that vulnerable flesh might just do him in entirely. The line for it had already been dotted through him like a surgeon marking his dissection. The part of him that loved her still so much that each shift of her expression in his peripheral vision drew his eye and squeezed that wound in his heart tight, the part of him that had lied to protect her, the Will who couldn’t give up trying to right his father’s wrongs. He didn’t want to take his hand off of her to feel that line opening up with fingers probing at a chest that had vibrated with laughter as the night had settled into a repeat of what had been. Soon enough Zoey would sober up and scramble away from him and he wasn’t sure he could take it. God, he might not even be able to take this. Her hand had closed around his wrist, fingers cool against skin that seemed to burn hotter as she lifted her head from his shoulder, blinking like the liquor had definitely already sunk too deep. Had it taken away both their regrets for a time? Wiping the slate clean for a single night like the wish he’d made on the last birthday they’d had together had just taken its time coming true. If it hadn’t been then the delivery of the blue drinks might just have taken the last swipe at what remained of that gulf, threatening to fill it in with booze and sugar. Mumbling about its dangers had Zoey chiding him lightly. Will made a low sound in his throat, dubious and considering. The alcohol had already undone more of the divorce decree than he’d ever expected and had salted the ground for those fresh recriminations, Zoey’s almost inevitable bolt from Mystic Falls when she couldn’t face him the next time. His hand squeezed her knee as she went for it regardless, half the glass disappearing in a gulp that screwed her face up. He couldn’t help but chuckle, grinning at her as she looked up at him. ”You’re crazy,” he breathed, a thousand more emotions in those two little words. Admiration, love, luck, grief, the tiniest morsel of hysteria. Sucking in a breath, he whispered his suggestion against her hair as she settled back in. He hadn’t even needed the slushy to get it out. Risk – more than he’d taken in years. Shields gone and some part of him looking at the branch of the future that could maybe be all of this. One where all of his notes, his plans, were sent on to others who did this legally. A Sliding Doors moment. Will’s throat went thick as she laughed, Zoey’s hand gliding from his wrist, up to his elbow, squeezing just enough that he had to stopper another of those groans in his throat. He was the one who could still stop this but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Zoey was lifting her head, her lips so close to his it felt like a single hard beat of his heart would have them meeting. He knew the way they fitted against his own, the way need would rush through him tidal wave fast if they did. His breath emerged ragged, his hand squeezing her thigh lightly, rising a few inches before he stopped with the press of her lips against his skin. Not direct, but close enough to leave his lips pressing together as she eased back. ”It’s a good thing there are cabs in this town,” he breathed against her hair. He took a steadying gulp of the drink before setting it aside and rising. ”Hold on. They’re gonna be like a pack of rabid animals. That’s it ladies and gentleman. Thank you for coming … and for all the drinks. Much appreciated.” Working his way through the pack to the door, Will avoided as many eyes as he could. This was going to be plastered all over the station like the FBIs most wanted come morning. Anticipating the stab in the pit of his stomach that would come then, Will tried to swallow down the bitter precognition as they slipped out into the cool night air. It steadied him a little, enough that he made it into the taxi without the threatened face plant at least. Nerves buzzed and fizzed like static beneath his skin as they sat there in the back, close enough to touch, each bump in the road tossing them a little closer, adding another inch to the bridge that would all crumble come morning. Run, Will, run. It would’ve been for Zoey’s own good, to protect her from her alcohol erased loss of judgment but he couldn’t. All the pain later would be worth this and then maybe somehow everything would heal in a less painful way. Maybe. Hope bloomed hot in his belly as they headed up in the elevator, staining his cheeks as he’d thumbed the button for the penthouse. Pretentious? Yes, but it still wasn’t a patch on the smaller apartment they’d shared together. Everything that had been brought here of them had been tucked away, too many prying eyes in the form of his partners. Now there was no one there to watch Zoey turning into him, a palm on his chest, a hand in his hair, pulling him down into a kiss that seared as he’d imagined it. Zoey, her name whispering prayer soft through his head as he wrapped his arms around her, fingers curling into the dark, silken tumble of hair. Need rumbling in his throat as he steered them out of the elevator when the doors pinged open. Those fingers tugged just enough that he could drag his mouth down to her throat as he came up for air. The other hand let go just long enough to fumble his keys out of his mouth. ”I’d … have cleared up if I’d known … it’s …” Will lifted his head, wincing faintly as he chuckled. It wasn’t a home. It was a show apartment, all that he would allow any of them to see on the surface, all that truly meant anything locked away, as hidden as it had been since his teenaged years. ”Can I get you anything?” The offer he cut off with a tiny groan at his own ineptitude. Home didn’t mean anything domestic now, a single kiss hadn’t put a ring back on Zoey’s finger. All it meant was that he was getting one more night of what had almost killed him to let go. ”Sorry.” The single word whispered against her mouth, his hands coming up again, one cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth before his lips had taken hers fiercely, the other scraping knuckles lightly down from her throat to the V of her blouse, snagging at tiny buttons that would all too easily scatter across the floor. |
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
|
Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Jan 8, 2022 17:10:49 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
It hurt. She hurt, but his lips warmed the ache in her heart, gentle fingers going exactly where she needed them to. They’d done this before, the passionate scramble to bed without breaking their necks, but this time was different than any other in the history of their relationship… because they weren’t in one.
Zoey tilted her head back and gasped softly at his mouth on her throat, forgetting all about the hundreds of women he must’ve done this with while she waited up for him at home. It was just them now, only Will’s lips and tongue and teeth, and only Zoey’s skin and breath and heat. She wanted him everywhere for the rest of the night━for the rest of their lives━but there was only one option anymore.
Glancing around only when he mentioned it once they spilled into his apartment, Zoey broke her hand from those dark curls, holding both his arms instead. “It looks fine.” She puffed, “Flashy, but fine.” Teasing with words before doing the same with her lips, they could have nearly resumed without any hitches before he spoke again. Zoey’s head jerked back, brows knotted at Will in a silent questioning of his intelligence. Did he honestly just ask her━
‘Sorry.’
Yeah, you bet. It would’ve been spoken aloud if he hadn’t immediately captured her again, and if Zoey hadn’t willingly sunken into him just as easily as before (if not more so). The backs of his fingers gliding over her sternum set every nerve alight, ones she hadn’t felt since before their marriage went up in smoke. He was everything she remembered, just as deft and… God, perfect. Zoey normally prided herself on her vocabulary’s complexity, but this whole night shot everything to shit, and the worst part was she wasn’t even mad about it. Not yet, anyway.
She couldn’t focus on anything but him; she didn’t care about anything but him. How he smelled, the same as always, though there was nothing in this apartment that reminded her of him. Perhaps if she could inspect the kitchen with a keener eye… no, not now. In the morning. She’d find some piece of the man she married then, but for now, her focus was on them━as a pair, as one.
With her goals fresh in her mind again, Zoey matched the fervour in their kiss, her own digits working artfully on his shirt before giving up altogether. Allowing Will to tear at her blouse━another article of clothing ruined in his presence, just like that skirt━she shed the fabric down her arms and dropped it along the floor, letting him lead her to his bedroom. Even that couldn’t bring her back to Earth. His clothing was next, the top half before Zoey gave way to the mattress prodding at the backs of her knees. Dropping down, she didn’t let it separate them for more than a second, lips treading that familiar trail over his chest and down, capturing his waistband with her fingers once she’d arrived. Instead of stripping them off right away, she used her hold to tug him down and over her, dropping to her back in one fluid motion.
This was it; either the biggest mistake of her life (if marrying him wasn’t already that) or a night to fix all the ones spent without him. Or, perhaps, just one she wouldn’t regret.
They seeped in once Zoey shimmied out of her dress pants and into the rigid angles of him she recognized so well━she settled for only a moment before they tore through her━regrets. Critical thinking. Heartbreak.
Her question nearly spilled out, the one that would make this real and take them so far over the line they wouldn’t be able to tug themselves back. They’d always had protection stored in the top drawer of the nightstand━the one on Will’s side━and it suddenly dawned on Zoey that she didn’t know if he would here because she didn’t know him anymore. This wasn’t their apartment; this wasn’t the home they’d made together because he ruined everything they had.
He was definitely stocked up; there was no doubt about it. Fierce pleasure shifted into pure anger, and Zoey drove a knee into his side. “Get off me.” She managed gruffly, pushing at his chest with a forearm splayed across it. Her head turned to the side to prevent any more kisses and, when her eyes came back to find his again, they were stinging. “I wouldn’t want to catch anything.” It was easier this way━everything was. If they didn’t sleep together, then the hatred that’d grown in the familiar spot of their love could remain in the place where Zoey found it comfortable. Nothing would change between them.
Wriggling out of bed and to her feet, she quickly restored her pants and gathered what was left of her blouse, finding her newly-sobered state an uncomfortable and sudden shift. She’d get out quickly and without turning around, he wouldn’t see her cry━not again.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | |
|
WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
|
Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Jan 23, 2022 20:03:29 GMT
September 14th She’d stripped him bare even before the alcohol had washed away the wall of bitterness between the two of them. Will knew it was temporary. At some point reality would rush back in to this frozen blue bubble the two of them had slipped into. It would pop and the same acrimony that had settled in as their marriage had started to break up would seep back in. The pain in those dark eyes taking the place of that teasing glimmer. He probably shouldn’t have let himself trust in it, knowing what was going to happen when they sobered, but for now, for those last couple of hours of his birthday Will wanted to let himself wallow in this. The scent of her shampoo was going to linger on his fingers after, on his pillows, catching him unaware to have those thorns dragging at his heart again. Now it was as warm on the air as her skin was against his lips. There hadn’t been another to erase the imprint of her on him but this was a fresh stamp of it, leaving the feel of it all echoing on him as he’d lifted his head to stumble through what would once have been an easy trail he could follow blind through their apartment. He hadn’t popped that bubble with it at least. Will’s cheeks heated, his head tilted as he glanced around the apartment. It was ostentatious. The whole top floor of the building, glossy and plush in a way that suited the persona he’d shrugged on after the divorce. He still would’ve apologised for it again, found some explanation but Zoey was catching his mouth again for that brief moment before he apologised. Christ. Was some almost inaudible part of him determined to stop him from tearing this wound open for both of them again? If it was he wished it would shut up. He wanted this, still wanted her so badly he’d felt it with every breath since he’d seen her at that crime scene. Maybe it was trying to protect him from himself but it was a mistake that had cost him this before and he’d struggle through another for just one more taste of what he’d been foolish enough to let slip away. There it went again with the offer, an apology that her jerking back from him, the frown cutting across her features. He grimaced, feeling the cringe so far down that it could’ve cracked the gleaming boards of the floor open and swallow him whole – perhaps it would’ve been the favour he actually needed here. Sorry. The word echoing through his head until he forced it back with that kiss. Not just a deep enough to wallow, this was a drowning. Fingers fumbling between those buttons, each caught on a blunt fingertip until it wasn’t enough. Another apology would come later, the glitter of buttons across the rug in the morning another surely agonising reminder of what he’d regained so briefly. Will worked his hand beneath the front as it draped open, helping to push it back from Zoey’s shoulders. Fingers skimmed down the lean line of her spine, scooping beneath her to pull her up against him as he eased them out of the hallway and into his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes, felt the softness of the Audubon rug at the end of the bed beneath his feet. Will dragged his mouth his mouth away from hers just long enough for his shirt to dragged away. Need left him feeling clumsy as they tumbled back. Will chuckled hoarsely as he caught himself, bracing his knees against the edge of the mattress. His head hanging, a hoarse groan on his lips as Zoey began to ease down, her lips tracing that burning line down his chest as she continued to dip lower. ”Careful,” he crooned as the grip was used to tug him down on the bed. He tumbled forward, catching himself on his hands and knees over her. Blue eyes went darker, pupils blown as he let himself study her. His touch gentle as he propped an elbow close to her shoulder, brow furrowing faintly as he dragged his knuckles over his ex-wife again, down the line of her throat, the dip between her collarbones where he lowered his head to follow that familiar trail with his lips. Zoey was moving under him, pants kicked off, leaving only his and a scrap of fabric between their bodies. In moments they would’ve been gone as well, all that had kept them apart for more than a year gone for just a few hours. Will felt the thud of her heart against his mouth, the kick in his own ridding his heart of that ache for just a minute before her knee was coming up, sharp enough to cut through that soft warmth, driving him back up from where he’d been letting himself drown in her touch. Letting out a ragged sound, Will scrambled higher. Body caging hers, as Zoey shoved at him, Will frowned. He lifted a hand, tried to grip the forearm pressed to his chest. ”Catch anything? So you think you’re just the fresh notch on my bed? Is that all you think I’ve done since you left?” The news stories that had leaked out in those weeks it had taken him to leave New York relentless and filled with the sort of falsehoods he’d carefully built years before. A ragged breath in through his nose and Will was rolling away, giving her the room. He sat on the edge of his bed, hands curled uselessly between his thighs, bare shoulders sagging as the wounds he hadn’t expected to open up til the morning split wide now. ”Zoey, please.” The hoarse plea was torn from his throat. Pushing to his feet slowly, Will knuckled at his mouth. He could still taste her skin, the need that had burned between them only moments before. ”There hasn’t been … I don’t know what you thought I was doing tonight but you’re not … if you’ll just let me explain …” What good would that do? The sobering had come faster than he’d expected midnight not even coming around before this spell had broken and what had almost been shattered like those buttons. Slowly he extended a hand to her, trying to catch her by her elbow to pull her in but he already knew that the walls were back up, built in ragged lines atop his heart to crush it anew. |
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
|
Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Feb 3, 2022 0:06:29 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
“I know it is. Move.” It took him a moment, but, finally, she could slip out and start clutching at the scraps of clothing like shreds of her decency. Zoey had scraped herself together when her skirt tore, and then again on her birthday, but this was the last time. She wasn’t sure if she had anything left after this, and it was high time she stopped letting her ex-husband (of all people) humiliate her. He ruined their marriage with the biggest embarrassment possible, but Zoey had recovered from that—hadn’t she? It was all he’d do, what he was best at, and she couldn’t understand why she kept falling victim to his traps.
Frantically gathering herself together, feeling like her brain was filled with smog, she struggled to make sense of this with eyes that wouldn’t stop going fuzzy no matter how many times she blinked. Unaware he was moving until she felt his fingers on her elbow, Zoey snatched her arm away from the blaze of heat, feeling almost as if he’d seared right through her skin.
“I don’t want to hear it, William.” Zoey hissed, head snapping sideways to meet his gaze, teeth clenched together. She could feel the sobs building in her throat, and each time she spoke was another step closer to completely falling apart. “You couldn’t open your mouth in the end to give me the answers I deserved, so what makes you think I want to hear them now?” She almost did. She wished he could start talking and bandaids would come out in the form of words, sealing and soothing each wound until they didn’t hurt anymore.
Perhaps that was her problem. She couldn’t let go of the notion that seeing William again meant everything left undone could be fixed, that loose ends could be tied—that she wouldn’t necessarily get back the years wasted with him, but she could get some form of closure. Was that what kept bringing her to him?
If it was, she didn’t want to want it. Not anymore.
Turning, Zoey slipped on the sorry excuse for a blouse and rushed out, slamming the door behind her. Putting an end, she hoped, to everything that was before.
But as long as she had to live and work in his vicinity, Zoey wasn’t sure this could ever end.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | the end |
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