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 24, 2022 20:20:41 GMT
The bride had been radiant, the groom, well…
Last night Will had shook his father’s hand, congratulating him and – oh good lord, he’d heard it enough as people had gushed over the two of them in the ballroom – Verena? Veronica? Veronique, that had been it, as they had been swept into the waiting limo outside of The Pierre. Congratulations on his latest marriage, the step mother who’d blinked at him in confusion as Dalton had drawn his blushing bride over to meet his son. She hadn’t even realised he’d existed. There’d been a sharpening in her cold blue eyes, as though she’d suddenly been presented with her competition. If she thought there was any over Dalton’s money then she was more of a fool than he believed. The prenup would’ve been carved in stone as deeply as it had been with any of his other marriages – nobody, not even his son, was getting their hands on his fortune.
Will’s smile was faint, but polite as he passed the concierge at the front desk. The man perked up instantly, gesturing towards the doors and the snow beyond. Still white from last night’s fall, turning this part of the city into a winter wonderland at least.
”Can I call a car up for you Mr Carnegie?”
He didn’t bother correcting the man, just continued on towards the doors. ”I’m fine, thank you.” His own car would’ve handled the roads, slick as they would be until the ploughs cleared them (ahead of the less affluent areas because nobody wanted a senator or the head of Chase Manhattan in a fender-bender on Madison Ave. Hands in his pockets, Will glided past the doorman with another nod. There was no point in heading for his car, not when he intended on sticking to the neighbourhood.
Cold without their gloves, Will curled his fingers around the phone in his pocket. Perhaps he should’ve made the call before he’d left the night before last, offered some explanation for where he was going, or an invite. On the road out of Mystic Falls, with his father’s cryptic, and rather desperate sounding voicemail – the one that had neglected to mention to his son that this was for a wedding – ringing in his ears, he’d considered it. How did you explain to your father that instead of moving on, as he would undoubtedly do by the time next Christmas rolled around, that you and your ex wife were …
Standing on the sidewalk in front of the Lotte Palace (of course both a church and any normal ballroom were below Dalton now), Will paused, staring down the street to where the Rockefeller Center and its ice rink were bustling with life. Was there any way to discuss the fragile ground he and Zoey were standing on? It almost felt as though just defining it would destroy it in some way, the thin shell of hope and trust it was wrapped in as fragile as tissue. The night of the auction had changed things, opening the two of them up to one another again with that whispered promise that there had been nobody during – or after – their marriage. The promise had slipped from his lips before they’d made love, the first time since …
Feeling the coal like heat kindle in his chest, Will turned away from that pool of life in the center of the Upper East side and started walking. The next move was perhaps out of his hands, and with his disappearance from town conspicuous, but he wasn’t helpless. Home still meant something in a way – even if for today it was just an opportunity to stock up before he returned back to Mystic Falls tomorrow.
The streets hadn’t changed, New York impervious to tiny things like the destruction of a marriage and two hearts. The same restaurants and stores still clustered on the street. Familiar faces met in them as he picked his way through shopping – his partners would hate the t-shirts he bought, but he’d been inspired by the mortification his own uniform had brought. They were more likely to burn these than he had his own after that night. It hung in the back of his closet, a carbuncle amongst the tailored suits and crisply starched shirts, Zoey’s scent still clinging faintly to the stretched out white cotton. A boutique on 72nd street had left a tiny silver bag hanging from his fingertips, its contents cradled in thick layers of that tissue. He’d be lucky if it made the trip back from New York to Virginia intact. The rest of what he was going to be carrying with him too.
His nose probably glowed like Rudolph’s as he wrinkled it. A car might’ve been a wise move, but it would’ve meant missing out on all those tiny stops, including this one. Steam misted up the windows of the bagel shop, as it always had done on those Sunday mornings in the winter. The door opened as he reached it, the scent of coffee and bagels fresh from the oven spilled out – nothing he put together in his kitchen ever smelling quite the same. Will smiled at the young family that spilled out, returning the boy’s chirp of Merry Christmas. ”Merry Christmas!” he called after them. The smile was still there as he stepped inside, the whoop that went up from the man behind the counter leaving his cheeks glowing the same way as his nose.
Eddie ignored the queue, slapping his back as he barrelled around from behind the counter for a hug. ”It’s good to see you,” Will promised. There were definitely grumblings as Eddie asked what he wanted. Will dipped his head slightly, nodding towards the wall of bagels. ”Half a dozen with everything and a half dozen with poppy seeds? Thanks.” The same thing he’d get every Sunday, although then he’d have them loaded up with lox and dill cream cheese.
”I’ll put you together a roast beef too, just got it out fresh. A coffee too.” Eddie was scooping the bagels into bags, waving off the complaints.
Will grimaced faintly as he turned to apologise to the queue. The door was swinging open again though. No one heading out, because he’d stopped the queue dead in its tracks. In. The figure shuffling in to stop him dead. Closing his fingers around the small silver bag as it began to slip, Will smiled at the woman the bagels were supposed to be for. ”Hi,” he murmured, glancing aside as a man in the queue shot a sarcastic ’great, there’s two of them’ out. He turned away from the guy, stepping in almost awkwardly to brush his lips against his ex-wife’s cheek. ”Great minds think alike … what are you … is your dad OK?” He hadn’t been sure of Zoey’s Christmas plans for this year, after last year he’d thought maybe her dad would be coming again – although his confusion at dinner had perhaps curtailed the invite to dinner again. The beef rib was in the fridge, tradition put on hold by Dalton’s nuptials.
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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 Jan 17, 2023 0:40:48 GMT
 ━ nothing good is born from lies ━
She didn’t know if she believed him. Zoey hadn’t been thinking at the time. She’d only stared at Will, searched his eyes for the lie, and was even more terrified when she couldn’t find it. She loved him so much it hurt; her chest had exploded, lips begging to part and let it all pour out, but she hadn’t.
She couldn’t.
The shield Zoey had slipped over her heart wouldn’t allow it. Still firmly in place, she merely watched him, and eventually closed the silence with a kiss. Somehow, his admission didn’t stop what progressed and led them to spend the entire night together. Zoey hadn’t slept so well in years.
The hardest part was not hating it. Not wanting to believe him, but also unable to admit it was a lie.
Wanting to hear it again and again for the remainder of her days.
She (foolishly) thought her trip home for the holidays would take her mind off it. Their Hanukkah was relatively the same as the year before, only it was growing harder to deny the fast deterioration of her father’s health. Last year's Christmas had really proven something was wrong, but now Zoey was worried he wouldn’t be able to work in the new year. It wasn’t safe for him, but he didn’t want to hear it.
They couldn’t all be cushy federal agents, he’d teased━at the top of the food chain while lowly grunts (like him) actually got their hands dirty. He knew Zoey had worked hard to get where she was, but he thought humour would save him from her nagging. He was wrong.
And she was wrong about having a distraction.
Whenever she went outside and was greeted by the familiarity of the place she’d grown up in, Zoey could only think of two things: her dead relatives or her dead marriage. Either way, it drove a knife through her chest, and she couldn’t decide which was worse. She’d been able to grieve her mom and Addy, but that damn marriage kept coming up again and again. Rehashing the pain and love until they were completely unbearable. She was at a loss. Every path seemed to be the wrong one.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t wait to get back to Mystic Falls. Not because of Will━him least of all━but because New York was just too much for her now. She was wrong. This wasn’t the same as last year’s holidays; this was far worse.
Zoey stepped out into the blinding brightness of the morning, fresh snow scrunching under her boots. She tucked a scarf around her neck and stuffed her bare fingers in her pockets, beginning the path to the bakery. She’d decided challah would be a nice treat, never sharing her ulterior motive: the bagel place was only a few blocks down, and she thought the only thing that would cure this was some nostalgia in the form of Eddie’s warm, seedy dough and cream cheese.
Of course, it was the place they used to go, but she’d conveniently forget about that for now.
Slipping in through the doors, Zoey breathed in a sigh of relief at escaping the cold, though the oxygen quickly jammed itself in her throat. He was here. How━in what universe… what had she done to deserve this? Was Zoey being punished for something? … Did it count as pre-marital sex if they’d already been married once?
“Oh. Hi.” She mumbled. Other than her widened eyes, Zoey seemed slightly irritated by his presence. She wasn’t, though━it was just hard to talk when your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought it might explode. She resented the warmth she felt in his presence, and the love that was so incredibly clear as it radiated through her. She felt like a fucking lightning rod for William Carnegie, and him alone. Never anyone else.
Zoey’s brows furrowed, dark eyes ticking to the man who grumbled in the long line. Everyone seemed to be looking at them. Did they know, too? Was it something people could see now, plastered on her forehead like a personal billboard?
She wasn’t sure what was going on, but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to make a joke at Will’s expense━and she wouldn’t miss out on a moment like that. “You just make friends wherever you go, huh?” Her smile was warm, though━matching her insides.
The heat stayed as he leaned in, but Zoey went ramrod straight. It was probably like kissing a dead fish. She cringed internally at the thought.
“He’s… about the same as you’d expect.” It was easier than saying ‘worse than last year.’ Eddie and his family caught her eye behind the counter, and she waved and smiled politely. The falseness of the expression began to fade the moment she looked back at Will.
She hadn’t told him about the men who’d led her out with a false tip and how Will had saved her life, but he’d asked about Will anyway. In a moment of clarity, which she didn’t recognize at the time, he’d asked if she was spending this Christmas with him. And at Zoey’s patient, silent look, he’d puffed, “I’m not confused, Zoey; I know you two are divorced. But you spent Christmas together last year; why not again?” To which she sputtered through a so-called answer that was never completed. Her dad grinned the whole time.
“What’re you doing home?” Zoey asked, though she would’ve hated the same question had the roles been reversed. But she had family to visit here; Will didn’t see his dad for holidays, they weren’t that kind of family. “Did Dalton need his favourite detective son to sort out another theft on his behalf?” She was smirking now, thoroughly enjoying every word she said. “You should give him my direct line with the Bureau. I’m sure he’d love to catch up.” She wouldn’t, however, now that she wasn’t worried about being a good daughter-in-law, Zoey didn’t have to bother with the pleasantries.
Her smile was finally bright━large and pure. No longer stuck straight up like uncooked spaghetti, she stepped a hair closer, shining that big grin right up at 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
|
Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Feb 5, 2023 20:41:13 GMT
The truth had shattered the wall between them that his lies had put up, allowing the two of them to come together for a single night. Waking the next morning with Zoey still in his arms – instead of vanishing the moment he dared to open his eyes the way she had done every time he’d dreamed of the future he could’ve had – Will had known it wouldn’t last, no matter how much he wished it would. The cold light of day was always going to reveal that the way had been at least partially rebuilt. Each lie he’d told her had added another brick to it, slathering on layers of cement until it had felt impenetrable.
In the hallways at the station in the weeks since he’d almost felt as though he could reach out, brushing away the slowly hardening mortar. Another few minutes alone, with both of them tired enough not to fight the shift back together, all that remained of the truth could spill out. There’d be no rebuilding the wall after that, either it would be gone for good and somehow Zoey could forgive the way he’d constantly crossed the legal line or a grand canyon sized crack would open up between them, one neither of them had a chance of crossing. Feeling the words try and bubble into his throat every time had left him choking on them. The job had almost cost Zoey her life, if there was anything that should’ve ended it, that was it. Use that turning point. Find a way to make it all right.
That choice had hung over him like Damocles’ sword – damnation he only had to look up to see. Could he see Zoey cut by it all, for the sake of his own conscience, his heart? No. Not that way. Not after all had already cut her to the core. The way he finally cast those shields that had been held up around that part of him aside had to be done right. For both their sakes. Coming to New York had automatically slammed them tight around him. Not because of Dalton and the probing questions the man could squeeze into three minutes of conversation – it was self-preservation that had failed miserable the moment he’d started towards what had once been theirs.
Will felt it all start to crumble like week old bread as he turned to see Zoey slipping in through the door – cracks shooting through the flimsy foundations of the wall that had started to come back up too. Her fingers, probably icy cold from the walk from her … her dad’s place, she wouldn’t have been in town and staying in a hotel with the way things were with him, wedged into those cracks, either to try and hold it together, or to pull apart again just for those moments they were caught here like this.
She hadn’t expected this any more than he had, her dark eyes wide, maybe by shock, maybe by anger that he’d dared to set foot back into what he’d once made clear was her space now. It was certainly irritation on everybody else’s part, although when you were large enough to fill what probably felt like half the available floor space people had a way of backing down. A glare had the man turning away momentarily at least.
Turning far enough to leave him nothing but a broad back to stare at when he looked back, Will let his smile turn sheepish. He shrugged, a huff of amusement rolling out. ”Call it one of my greatest charms.” One of his greatest regrets with her. Zoey was smiling at least, the worry about how she’d react to him being on her turf a moment ago melting away. It left him feeling as though he could cross the line of the wall without slamming up against it. Her skin was as cold as he’d imagined her hands would be. Once he’d have brought his hand up, brushing the chill away with fingertips that were probably only degrees warmer, but now he was pulling back. His smile softening as he drew back from the faintly awkward greeting, his hand with that tiny gift bag dangling from his wrist remained at her elbow for just a moment before he let it fall to his side.
The store probably wasn’t the place to discuss what must have been a further decline for her dad – this had been their neighbourhood long before it had been his and he doubted her dad would want the sympathy that would boil up. Will ducked his head slightly as he saw Zoey lift her hand to wave, the back of his neck feeling hot. Would the gossip mill around here start churning the minute he walked out, the way it must’ve done after their divorce? ”I’m sorry to hear that,” Will murmured, his voice low enough not to carry. His gaze met hers, the apology rising up into his eyes to convey what he couldn’t say. There’d been no miracle in the last twelve months, probably couldn’t be one at all now. Had it been used up in that warehouse, all the good karma he’d scraped from among the bad gone to save Zoey’s life?
Heat he couldn’t blame on the steamy atmosphere inside the store blazed brighter across the back of his neck, reaching his cheeks above the beard that Dalton had eyed with obvious distaste before he dipped his head and chuckled ruefully. If it had been a request to dabble workwise he’d have told his father to pick from his cadre of favoured minions – none of which had ever suspected that the source of that string of thefts was Dalton’s own son. ”I’m sure he would,” he said honestly. Just so Dalton could tell Zoey what a lucky escape she’d had, suggesting someone far more suitable for her. He’d never seen what he had in the woman who’d loved him, wouldn’t have known that sort of love if it had bitten him on the nose his surgeon had tweaked into a perfectly aristocratic line.
Will dipped his head in the direction of the hotel, the heat fading slightly. ”I was meeting my step-mother … the latest Mrs Cargnegie. The couple are ecstatic and I’ve done my part in playing the dutiful son for twenty-four hours.” He’d offer his condolences to her when Dalton eventually tired of her too, as he did all of them in the end. Cards would still go out on their birthdays, bouquets sent for mother’s day when not a single one of them had ever really been one for him. His hand came up again, the bags bumping Zoey’s side lightly as he caught her elbow, rubbing softly through the layers of clothing. ”I would’ve asked if you wanted to go but … it was last minute and I wasn’t sure if you would’ve wanted to …” To test the waters that would’ve been filled with the sort of sharks who’d seen her as nothing more than chum when it had been announced that one of the Upper East Side’s most eligible bachelors had been taken off the market that first time. It had been vicious and it had torn him up that he’d been unable to protect her from the nastiest side of what was supposed to be some sort of elevated society.
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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 Feb 20, 2023 21:02:09 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
“He asked about you,” That was something she was okay with sharing in the bagel shop, her smile growing warmer by the second. “Asked why I didn’t bring you this time. Now he’ll be mad we didn’t carpool and save gas,” Zoey laughed softly, trying to erase the look of pity in his eyes. It would only make this worse.
Her brows went up at his response━Dalton? Wanting to catch up with an ex-daughter-in-law who he never seemed to like in the first place? Well, Dalton didn’t really like anybody, and the top of that list always seemed to be reserved for his son.
“Oh, wow.” Zoey scoffed, maintaining her surprised expression. “Another marriage?” She would not make a joke about Will being just like his father that way. She would not. It wasn’t true, but it was also just true enough to sting. “Good for you,” She laughed, her dark eyes flicking down to the gift hanging from his wrist. Zoey couldn’t exactly see it at this angle, but she’d glanced at the little box when he’d pulled away earlier, and had to wonder what it was━and who it was for.
Zoey? Wanting to show up to Dalton’s wedding? With Will? She smiled again, this time like she was barely holding back another laugh. “I don’t think I could come up with anything I’d like to do less than go to another one of Dalton’s weddings,” And why did he think it’d be a good idea to invite her? Why would he want her to come and then have to answer a million questions about their relationship?
“If you’re staying in the city for a few more days, though, you should… come for dinner.” She knew her dad would be upset if she didn’t at least extend the invite. “If you want; you don’t have to.” And Zoey would rather avoid another heap of confusion and upset, but she still wanted him there. In this giant city, all she had left was these two men━they were the only ones that meant anything here; the only ones who knew her.
But perhaps Will had places to be━other people to be with. He was incredibly close, and she didn’t know what to do with this proximity. Would he kiss her again? Did he expect a repeat of the bath in the middle of the bagel shop? She settled closer anyway, leaning into Will’s side, into the touch she knew so well.
“What’s that?” Zoey asked finally, turning her head down, towards the gift, so she stopped wanting to kiss him. Well, the wanting would never disappear, but at least they couldn’t now. “Doing a little window shopping? A gift for your new step-mom? Or…” Someone else? Despite what he’d said that night, she still wondered how easy it would be for Will to find someone else━someone who would’ve said it back.
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 Mar 11, 2023 17:19:46 GMT
He’d looked for her in the knots of people that had studied the ballroom. His anchor in those turbulent waters, appearing with the flash of dark hair and a smile that had been all for him. Fingers brushing as they’d passed, waiting for the moment when they would grip and together they could escape that rip tide. This time he hadn’t found her and Will had felt that loss like a hole burrowed clear through his chest. Polite smiles and small talk had been made, but as soon as the bride and groom had been driven away from the curb, he’d made his own escape back to his hotel room and an empty bed, wishing he were back in Mystic Falls. Had Zoey felt that same hollow inside of herself here? Believing that he was back there instead of only miles away? It was a question he wasn’t prepared to ask, not when there were already other hollows cut through her, ones that he was powerless to fill. Will’s lips twitched as he saw the polite smile, the expression rapidly fading. Her father was one of those hollows, a good man who was slowly becoming a shell of himself, the one part of her family that Zoey had left. The smile rushed back on a wave of warmth that had more to do with Zoey’s laughter – a relief from the pain he imagined had carpooled with her from Mystic Falls instead of him – and less to do with the fresh rush of steam from the back of the store as a batch of hot bagels appeared. ”Not too mad I hope. Send my regards, wish him a Merry Christmas.” He’d have gone through another Christmas like last year if the circumstances had been the same, cooking until the table was heaving, putting aside the ache in his heart to give Zoey’s dad another good year, if that was possible for him to do. Family Christmases filled with that same warmth would never have happened with Dalton. Even in the days when he’d woken to a stack of gifts under the tree – purchased by whatever poor soul had ended up the commissioner’s personal assistant that year – there had never been any heart to the celebrations. It wasn’t a family occasion, just a revolving door of whoever the wife de jour was. Catered, the meal tolerated just long enough to keep up appearances. As he’d grown older it hadn’t even been that. Dalton would happily leave his son back in the city to enjoy a cabana in Cancun or Tahiti to escape the snow. He saw Zoey’s brows rise at the thought that Dalton would’ve wanted her there at the wedding. His disapproval hadn’t exactly been well hidden, although the saccharine sweetness had tried to cover it up. It had probably been a relief to her that she wouldn’t have to tolerate the man any more once the ink was dry on their divorce. Will hummed in agreement to her question. ”Yet another. Just when I thought the last was going to break some sort of a record.” There hadn’t been a single one to hit double figures yet, Dalton’s attention span simply didn’t stretch to an entire lifetime of loving one woman. Unlike his son. Will’s smile softened as he spread his other hand on his chest to take a slight bow. Turning up for this would unlikely satiate Dalton for long, but it would buy him some reprieve as Dalton flew out for his honeymoon. That smile would’ve shone through the dour sycophantic crowds at the wedding like a lighthouse calling home. Even when that light was dim, and the rocks were waiting to tear him to pieces, she was the one he would come to. ”Now you know my pain,” he said, amusement dripping from his words. ”Each time I hope that this is the one that’s going to stick so I can avoid another wedding.” And each time history simply repeated itself. He refused to believe that his own life would be the same. He’d done everything possible to avoid being the man his father was – had he ever actually succeeded? Yes. Will felt the warmth slip over him, like a blanket tugged into place on a freezing cold day. God, he wished he could say yes, clinging onto it a little longer. ”I’m due back at work the day after tomorrow,” he said, apology already in his voice. ”But if I can, I’d love to. I’d offer to …” Cook. Like he had before, but while the hotel room was plush, it wasn’t set up for that and he wouldn’t make it awkward by calling for room service as the three of them sat awkwardly around the small table. The awkward break in what he was saying expanded between the two of them like a balloon, restricting his breathing as they stood there. His fingers still lingered at her elbow, the jostle of the people slowly being served behind them falling away as Zoey eased closer. He could dip his head, find her lips with his own again, lose the world entirely, but what sort of jack-in-the-box would that open here? Will satisfied himself by settling his other hand at the small of her back, ostensibly to ease the two of them out of the way if necessary. He felt that hollow slowly filling, knowing he shouldn’t allow himself to revel in it. Her question had his gaze dropping between the two of them. The gift, the one that would have been sitting on her desk after he’d returned home, waiting for the moment when Zoey would come back to her office. ”I did take the opportunity …” he admitted before laughter spilled out. ”Oh God no.” The latest Mrs Dalton Carnegie would’ve looked at the delicate glass ornament like it had insulted her. ”It was for you actually,” He offered it to her, leaving the plastic bag containing the hideous t-shirts dangling around his wrist. The crystal globe with its microcosm of New York inside, complete with snow that would whirl around when it moved was probably sat right on the border between expensive and tacky, but it had caught his eye, reminding him enough of the city when their lives had been good to tug at his heart. ”I was going to leave it on your desk but I suppose I can hand it over in person now. Merry Christmas.” His throat going thick, Will murmured the last two words as he pressed a kiss to the side of his wife’s head, as much as he would allow himself here. |
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