Friday was the day of the graduation and the following party. The entirety of Saturday was spent at the synagogue. Sunday, she had worked, and then finally faced Diego. Monday, she worked again, and did her absolute best to work with Diego and ignore the elephant of the previous Friday. Today? Today was Tuesday. It had been four days, and admittedly, Ziva was doing a pretty decent job of not thinking about the night and what it had meant, what it didn't mean. Because, you know what? Today was Tuesday. Not Friday. Tuesday.
She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, eyes glued to the TV screen in front of her. She had an Xbox controller in her hands, and was currently lost in Call of Duty, where she was pretty much destroying the other team (singlehandedly, mind you; Lupe wasn't quite as awesome at the game as he always claimed, but she often played with him anyway, and the rest of the team was awful) and only shouting at the TV every now and then. She had headphones in her ears, too, which were currently blasting some Hebrew heavy metal; her favorite artist, in particular.
There was a lot that the previous Friday could have meant. Did it mean anything, though? It couldn't. She was certain it shouldn't. It was just a drunken mistake - hopefully, the only drunken mistake she'd ever make. Although she preached putting it behind her, it wasn't as easy as she told herself it would be.
Beside her was a mostly-eaten bag of potato chips that she had opened earlier, and a book that she had discarded when she saw Lupe come online. Her and Lupe weren't exceptionally close, but they did like to play first person shooters together, if only so they could complain about the stupidity of everyone through text later.
Edited By Creativity on 1/13/2019 at 2:43 AM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posted: 1/13/2019 at 9:20 PM
Post #302
Tuesday. Up until last week Tuesdays for Diego meant a double block of English class, PE, and elective (Home Ec, because Ziva had dared him). Now, Tuesday was just another day, or at least it was supposed to be. He should be relaxing in the living room, playing video games and relishing his freedom from high school. Instead, all he seemed capable of doing was to lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying to settle the nauseating feeling that had been churning in his stomach since Saturday morning.
Tuesday. Three days since Diego had woken up and found out what had happened between he and Ziva. He had spent most of the time trying to remember that night, but everything was mostly still just a drunken blur. There were occasional flashes of memory that left his face and the rest of his body feeling overly warm and flustered. He pressed on only because he was desperate to know if he had...done anything to hurt her, and Ziva was still refusing to talk to him about it. He had subtly tried a few times to bring it up, but had been shot down. It made him furious and upset, but he was determined not to push her.
Tuesday. Given all the time Diego had spent thinking about that night, it should have made sense to him by no but it didn't. It wasn't as though that was his first time or anything, but even his very first time hadn't left him feeling like this. He couldn't stop thinking about it (or trying to anyway), and he couldn't stop the fluttering feeling in his stomach every time he did think about it. After a while he had chalked it up to simply the fact that Ziva was his best friend, and that the fluttering was his worrying about how this was going to effect their friendship.
Tuesday. On Friday, Diego had his first summer league game coming up. His practice hadn't gone particularly well yesterday, and they had one more tomorrow but he didn't have high hopes for that either. It was as though he had lost all of his ability to focus on the task at hand, even when that task was his passion: football. It frustrated him, but for some reason he was more anxious about the situation with Ziva instead of working on preparing for his game. Things seemed almost impossible to figure out.
"For crying out loud," he said to himself, launching himself off the bed, "This is ridiculous." He felt antsy, and knew he couldn't stay in his room anymore. He walked out his door right into the living room. Flopping casually onto the couch, nimbly grabbing Ziva's bag of potato chips as he did so, he landed next to her and put his feet up on the top of cushions right behind her head. It was a familiar position, and for a moment he felt almost normal again.
"Hey."
Creativity
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Posted: 1/13/2019 at 9:47 PM
Post #303
Now, Ziva had known that, after graduation, her life would change. She'd finally be free of everything that made her a child still. Free to live away from childhood, on her own with whoever she liked. Granted, her and Diego had shared the apartment for months - ever since she turned eighteen - but they still had to go to high school every day, where there was a dress code and referrals and all accompanying child-like punishments. Now? Now they were free. She was always so excited for university because it meant being treated like an adult in an educational capacity. She had known her life would change, but she had severely misjudged how.
Not once had she ever even come close to guessing she'd be in this situation. She'd never have guessed she'd have done what she did with Diego that night... Her life had changed, and she wasn't certain it was for the better. While that night had been...fantastic... There was too much at stake. Diego was her only friend, and she couldn't let her own stupid little crush or drunken actions ruin that. They just had to put it behind them...
"Hey!" she complained as Diego suddenly bombarded her comfy couch position and stole her chips. She took her headphones off and shot him a brief glare - not a mean one, but a familiar one that she tended to use with him whenever he'd interrupt her gaming.
However, Diego hadn't really been this casual with her as much as usual. She knew it was because of the tension of that night, the awkwardness that ensued. But just as she wished that night never happened, she wished that tension wasn't there. But now, it could be any other Tuesday. They could be joking about math class and his football team. Just for that, that casualness, she decided to give Diego her full attention.
She closed out of the current CoD game she was in with Lupe and set her controller down, wiggling a bit in the seat to face him. With an eyebrow raised questioningly, she reached forward to steal the bag of chips back. "What is more important than my Call of Duty? I was in the middle of killing people, you know," she questioned in a fake-angry tone, though there was a small grin on her face to let him know she was teasing.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posted: 1/13/2019 at 11:30 PM
Post #304
The feeling of being able to just lay on the couch, eaten the confiscated potato chips and bantering back and forth with Ziva, was at the same time the most amazing and most painful feeling Diego could recall in his entire life. On the one hand, it was incredible to be able to feel even a small level of normalcy between them for the first time since the party. However, on the other hand, there was still this dark cloud hanging over the two of them, a painful reminder that this normalcy was almost a lie.
"Not anyone we know I hope," he said with mock seriousness, his grey eyes managing to shine with with her jokester spirit, "You know I have a bad back. Burying that last body almost crippled me." He grinned a cheeky grin and then popped a handful of potato chips into his mouth.
This was what Diego missed so dearly. The easiness they had with one another when it came to talking and hanging out. It was a relief to know that it was still able to exist, but that churning in his stomach was still not going away completely, and he was beginning to fear that it never would. What he was having the most trouble understanding was the fact that when he thought about whether or not he wished he could go back in time and change what had happened...he couldn't bring himself to regret it at all. He couldn't remember much more than random images, mostly just feelings and that was enough for him to know without a doubt that it had been utterly amazing.
"So...," he said, tapping his foot rhythmically behind her head in the way he knew drove her crazy, "My first game with the summer league is this Friday. Can I count on my good luck charm to be there?" He gave her a significant look, his signature smile spread across his face.
Please, please say yes, he thought to himself as he waited for her answer. At the end of the day, all of the tension, all of the awkwardness, all of the stomach churning in the world couldn't destroy the fact that Ziva was his best friend and his biggest fan. If she refused to go because of what had happened...well, he didn't really want to think about that.
Creativity
Level 71
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Joined: 3/4/2013
Threads: 253
Posts: 5,852
Posted: 1/14/2019 at 7:42 AM
Post #305
It was easy, the conversation. Light and casual, very effectively burying what neither of them wanted to think about back in the darker recesses of their minds and memory. It was nice, Ziva thought. This was normal. It was almost as if the previous Friday had never happened at all, and that's what she wanted. So, she grinned at Diego's banter and took a couple chips from the bag, tossing them at him. "If you're not careful, you'll be next," she taunted.
When Ziva had first been moved to Spain, due to a strange anomaly in the foster system that no one had an explanation for, she'd been terrified. She knew no Spanish. She knew nobody there. At least, back in Israel, she knew people. They knew what happened to her. She had gotten picked on when she was younger, but those four years she was in the Israeli foster system, the bullying had gone down. In Spain? She had a target painted on her back. If it weren't for Diego... She didn't know. She had been depressed and anxious when she came to Spain. If she had spent much more time alone, if Diego hadn't come along... She didn't know.
She wrinkled her nose a little bit at the way that Diego's foot tapped behind her, but she didn't do anything about it at first, only tossed the bag of chips back to him. She cocked her head a little bit at his request and looked directly at him. "When have I ever missed a game?" she teased.
But then she rolled her eyes at his little nickname for her. "Don't call me that," she argued weakly, and then turned around and shoved his foot off of the top of the couch. He knew she didn't like being called his 'good luck charm', it hyped her anxiety a little, but it was just another one of those things that he'd do to purposefully annoy her. If she didn't want him to do it, she'd stop him. But she didn't mind most of these little things he did, so she'd just obligatorily put up a weak argument to show him she wasn't very serious about it.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posted: 1/16/2019 at 6:52 PM
Post #306
There was nothing Diego wanted more than to stay in this moment with Ziva forever. It felt like it had always had between the two of them, just easy and comfortable. He smiled with genuine mirth, he laughed with sincere amusement, and for these few minutes of the day everything felt normal. The dark cloud had lifted and the sun shone on them both for this brief time on the couch. He put a few more chips into his mouth from the bag which was now being tossed about like a volleyball, and was about to say something when a stray thought popped into his head as Ziva rolled her eyes, catching the light as they did so.
She has such pretty eyes..., and just like that the cloud was back, Diego's smile faltered and his hand hovered ever so briefly in front of his mouth, holding a chip.
"Yeah," he said quickly, trying to cover his momentary lapse, and then realized that his response made no sense, "I mean no, you've never missed a game, but that was in school so I just was making sure you'd be there for this one." He tried to smile, but he almost knew it wasn't as sincere as it had been earlier, and he hated himself for it.
The problem was that no matter how hard he tried rationalizing that night, Diego couldn't just move past it. He could put on a convincing face, he could lie and play act with the best of them, but inside he felt as though he had been fundamentally changed. It would be bad enough if the change were just simply negative, but it was it was incredibly confusing for his teenage boy brain to realize that the change didn't feel bad. He was having trouble making sense of it all, and he worried about the status of their friendship while he worked on solving this.
"So," he said brightly, a dazzling smile on his face as he looked right at her, "You ready for a proper challenger, Z?" He winked at her with one grey eye and plucked the other controller up from the coffee table.
This strained confusion would just have to do for now. At the end of the day, they were still best friends...no matter what.
Creativity
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Threads: 253
Posts: 5,852
Posted: 1/16/2019 at 9:14 PM
Post #307
This past week had been far too akin to times of long past, in Trace's opinion. When she was first brought to Capsule, after her failed attempt to escape from Manibus, it was always the first few days that had unnerved her the most. Those days, she had been left alone, ignored. The only indication that the scientists, quacks, and guards of Mantis even knew she was there was the measly food deposited in her cell every other day - something, she had noticed, occurred less often than it had in Manibus. In Manibus, Mantis wanted to use her, but in Capsule, they wanted to break her.
Though, in this quarantine room, they were fed every day. It was arguably more comfortable and relaxed than her Capsule stone cell. But it was all the same. The people watching over them like hawks, they were always the same, no matter if it was Pes, Manibus, or Capsule. Mantis was always the same.
Over the past week, though, Trace had gotten to know Howl better than she had known him before. She found, he was actually a rather interesting person. He didn't speak too much - he saved his breath if it wasn't necessary for him to speak. He could make five words say a thousand. And from what she could tell, he really cared about his familiar. Well. More power to him, she supposed.
The two of them had both initially argued for the couch, but then they had agreed to a switch-off. And, well, Trace had never really appreciated until now how quietly she woke from most nightmares. The worst ones would cause her to lash out or possibly scream, but most, she was very quiet. She'd merely wake in a cold sweat with her heart racing erratically and blood rushing in her ears. She was grateful she'd only had lighter nightmares recently. She didn't want to have to deal with Howl catching her in the middle of a bad one.
Regardless, she was getting antsy in here. There didn't seem to be any exit, and she was itching, for once, for the freedom of the compound at least, if she couldn't get the freedom of the real, Mantis-free world.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,034
Posted: 1/18/2019 at 9:47 PM
Post #308
Sleeping heavily was one of Howl's few quirks...besides the always hungry thing. He could pass out anywhere, and on anything. The bed in quarantine was extremely comfortable, and he had slept on it begrudgingly when Trace finally compromised with him about their sleeping arrangements. They decided to switch off between the bed and the couch. It wasn't what he'd wanted, but he had let her have the victory because arguing with her wasn't worth it to him. She could have the couch for the night, and then he'd make her sleep the next night on the bed.
Why the scientists had only given them one bed instead of two was beyond him, and if he was being honest he wasn't actually sure he wanted to know the answer to the question...if there even was one.
"Morning," he greeted Trace through a yawn, running a hand through his semi-long dark chocolate hair, "Sleep well?" The question was automatic, he didn't really expect much of a response from Trace, but he still smiled at her while he got some water.
Quarantine wasn't as bad as it sounded, but the fact that this situation bothered Howl much less than Trace had already been established. He had food, clean water, clean clothes, and a bed to sleep in (but only every other night). As far as he was concerned, life was comfortable. For the cherry on top of the sundae, getting to spend this much time by himself with Trace was quite enjoyable. The only thing that was missing was his familiar, Chap. He missed his lupine companion, and he only hoped he was somewhere safe and well fed.
"Did you eat?" he asked Trace as he sat down with his water glass, "I hope you at least for some sleep." He took a sip of water and then yawned again and stretched his lithe arms above his head.
Creativity
Level 71
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Joined: 3/4/2013
Threads: 253
Posts: 5,852
Posted: 1/18/2019 at 10:20 PM
Post #309
It was, admittedly, weird to be sharing her new living quarters with Howl. Trace had not shared a home with any man besides Erik since she was sixteen and living with her brother for a couple months before she left the house. It almost felt like a little bit of betrayal, but she knew that her Erik would understand that it wasn't by choice. Howl was... Well. He was just... He was... She sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. Howl was a friend. There. That... That seemed accurate enough...
Her Erik was the one person that was there for her when it seemed the whole world had turned against her. Her parents were dead, crazy scientists wanted to torture her, she couldn't get in contact with her brother, and she had found out she had an nondiagnosable, terminal heart disease. But there was Erik. Waiting for her, it seemed. There was no one she loved more than her husband.
But then, why would she be so strangely comfortable to be sharing a room with Howl? It was...strange. But she felt like she could talk to Howl easily; he wouldn't judge her, or harm her. He'd just listen. It was a strange, rare quality he had about him. Communication.
"I slept," she answered with a shrug, and then gestured to her empty bowl of rice. "And ate. As always, I don't know why it matters to ya," she gave him a pointed look. It was the same look she gave him every time he asked about her well-being, but it was filled with no anger.
She was sitting at the table provided for them, working on chipping a corner of it with her fingernails for no good reason. "Though at least I don't have the mutt. That's the only good thing about being in this bloody place."
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,034
Posted: 1/19/2019 at 5:37 AM
Post #310
For Howl, sharing space was not a concept that he was unfamiliar or uncomfortable with. After all, many of the alleyways he had called home as a child were constantly packed full of various bums and vagrants. You either learned how to share space and cope with your lack of privacy or you quickly found yourself on the outskirts. He never usually needed any sort of assistance from other, but he never felt the need to go against the majority and risk getting on someone's bad side. Look where that had gotten the original Chap...
But you said you weren't going to think about that anymore... Howl scolded himself, quickly trying to think about something else.
"Any dreams?" he asked without really thinking about his question, pulling his breakfast tray towards him as he spoke, "I mean...I usually just dream of food." That was a lame save and he knew it. He only hoped the question didn't end up upsetting Trace too terribly.
If their time in quarantine had taught Howl anything, it was that Trace was one of the most remarkable people he'd ever met. She was beautiful, dangerous, smart, and her tenacity for life still stirred something in him which he had never felt before. He knew about her husband since gossip and such information always spread through the compound like wildfire, but he felt indifferent about this fact. For the time being, they were both stuck in this room, and if or when they were let out they would still be stuck on this island.
Enjoy Life's gifts when they come, because Life is a cheapskate... Howl smiled briefly as he thought about Chap's Golden Rule number five, but the smile was brief.
"Hmm," Howl vocalized noncommittally when Trace spoke about, what he assumed was, her familiar, taking a bite of toast while he chose his words with care, "You mean Kutta?" He had already been bothered before by her lack of affection for the bloodhound, and he wanted to try and suss out the reason. However, he knew he needed to proceed with caution.
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