[FIN] Saying sorry isn't easy

[insidiousEnigma]

It felt like he never left.
He's been paying people to keep the house in pristine condition while he was away.

It felt like it'd been years since he left.
It's barely been a full year.

Andre heaved a weary sigh as he glanced around his office from his position behind his desk. It was a view he'd seen countless times before and he drew a strange sense of comfort in the familiarity in the high bookshelves stuffed with worn books, the stuffed couch off in the corner, and the painting that hung would forever hang ever so slightly crooked after the time Vincent had chased Velencia into literally climbing up the wall.

Those were happier times from what seemed to be from another life. The reality of the moment was less than ideal. He had ******** up.

The anger he'd faced when returning to their hotel room pale, sickly, trembling, and smelling of the streets and another man's cheap cologne.
The curious, but vaguely disappointed, look Zacharie had given him when he had finally seen him in person for the first time in sixteen years.

Saying he had merely ******** up was an understatement; but he was going to fix this. He had to. That was what people paid him to do and if he couldn't even manage to pull his own life out of the gutter then....
He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor with a screech that pierced the silence with a startling volume, and stalked out of his office and towards the living room. He'd heard Vincent come home hours ago, heard him putter around doing this or that while he waited for Andre to come to him. But he couldn't...he couldn't stand to think about the way the blonde would look at him when he did show his face. Would he look at him with disdain? With anger and barely concealed disgust?

...Would those bright green eyes be filled with pity?

He paused just inside the doorway to the living room and fought with himself to not turn tail and retreat to the safety of his office.  

[Venti Mico]

Anger. Guilt. More anger. Confusion, heartbreak, hatred.

And lastly, emptiness. After weeks of unstable moods and emotions, Vincent forced himself to pretend none of this existed. Their fight hadn't happened, the weeks of being separated hadn't happened, what caused their fight hadn't happened... they hadn't happened. Their house... it wasn't theirs, it was Andre's. Vincent hadn't spent nearly a decade living with the man that was most certainly avoiding him in his office; no, no, of course not. Convincing himself this was all just a chance meeting with some acquaintance... it helped Vincent keep everything in, even if he knew it was thin veil he was hiding behind. When he'd stepped into the house, seemingly empty, he remembered a time before he'd even known his... boss. Dirty, ragged, high half the time, drunk the other half, homeless and unemployed... he'd slipped back into old habits, but this time he'd gotten himself out of them. Not some random man he met on the street.

Leaning back on the couch, Vincent had put out a cigarette after only a few drags of it; a lingering cough had been pestering him for a few weeks, almost like it was telling him all this smoking was a terrible idea. Whatever. He could play the waiting game with or without it, keeping his thoughts idle by picking at scattered burn scars on his arms, some old, some fresh. But eventually, the sound of footsteps came to him...

An icy wave ran through his veins, his anger wanted to surge up, he wanted to face Andre and yell, let out all that pent up anger... but he forced it back. He stayed sitting on the couch, eyes focused on a small burn on the carpet a few feet away... and then the door opened. He hesitated, glaring hard at the carpet. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, finally glancing up with listless eyes.

His only greeting was a flat, miserable, "Hey."  

[insidiousEnigma]

The look he received was far worse than anything he could have imagined and it nearly had him backing up to make his escape.
He couldn't do this.

He could, he couldn't, he could.

He didn't want to have this talk.

He did, he didn't, he did.

His hands twitched with the aborted need to bring them up to clutch at his head. Not that it'd help order his thoughts or make his head feel like it wasn't going to split into a million fragments. His gaze flickered about the room in an attempt to look anywhere but at the blonde. Anywhere but at that flat expression. He couldn't just ignore this. "...Hello." He returned softly, weakly, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he finally met the others eye. "I...take it that you saw my...m-my folder." He made a vague hand motion, his gaze slowly dropping down to the carpet. "Of course you did, you wouldn't know to be here if you didn't..." He sighed quietly and shrugged. "I hope your trip went well enough."  

[Venti Mico]

Vincent looked away from Andre with an annoyed 'tch'. Was that stutter even real? Was it just some ploy to get Vincent to feel bad and forgive him on the spot? He wanted to be angry, he wanted to tell Andre he hated him, but guilt tugged at his conscience anyway. He couldn't do that to Andre, not now when he looked so... defeated. Vincent was every shade of hurt and upset, but he couldn't do it.

"I read it." He said, taking up fiddling with a thread on his jacket sleeve. "I hate boats. And now I'm here. What do you want to talk about?" Vincent asked lowly, voice unwavering and clear, enunciating his words more carefully than he ever took the time for. He knew what Andre had asked him to come here for, but he wasn't going to bring it up. That wasn't his job. Still, he'd read the folder Andre had left him, once, twice, and a third time so it could hit home... and he'd taken the first boat he could get back to Grande Ile. Like a stupid, whipped dog...  

[insidiousEnigma]

"I'm sorry."

He took a step into the room, took a step back.

"I know that simply saying that doesn't scratch the surface of what I owe you and...you may not even believe me after...everything." He hedged around the perimeter of the room, taking care not to get to close to the other but eventually coming to stand in Vincent's direct line of sight. He fiddled idly with his hair to give himself something to do with his hands. "But I am. Sorry, that is. I am sorry." He tugged, once, twice, a third time, let it go, turned his attention instead to absently moving things on the fireplace mantel. "There aren't many things that I regret. Two things, actually. Leaving Zacharie behind and well...what I've done to you."

He would have left.
Hell, if it were he were in Vincent's shoes he wouldn't have come in the first place.
But he supposed, being understanding and willing to listen had never been his strong point.

"And I don't just mean this mess I've made. You read the reports, you read...what I am." He winced before shrugging it off. "I've known what I've been doing to you since day one and I won't lie to you and say that I've always felt off about it...but these last few years..." He turned away completely. "I just wanted to apologize to you in person..."  

[Venti Mico]

Vincent furrowed his brow and glared at the carpet like he might try to set it on fire with just an angry look. Andre was sorry. Of course he was... he should be, after everything... not just the recent incident, their whole relationship, their lives together. Vincent understood the words in the folder Andre had given him, he understood it on a superficial level. Most of him still couldn't grasp it.

"You know, I grew up being hated. Unwanted. Trouble, that's what people always called me; that was nice compared to what my dad said about me," Vincent muttered, spitting out his words with bitterness. "No one cared about me, I was just a problem to everyone who knew me. Then I met you, and you were the only person who ever gave a <********> about me." Vincent clenched a fist, fighting hard against the lump burning his throat. He refused to cry. He looked down, watching Andre's feet rather than looking him in the eyes. "Almost ten years. Ten years, and I always thought I meant something to you... I'm not so stupid I ever thought you loved me. But I thought I was something, you know? And now... I don't even know what I am to you." Vincent reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He shook his head and let out a short laugh, "It's just my ******** luck, isn't it? Falling in love with someone who won't- can't love me back?" His voice cracked, but Vincent kept shaking his head.  

[insidiousEnigma]

Should he go to Vincent?
He wanted to, God how he wanted to, but this wasn't about what he wanted. It was about fixing this, it was about Vincent, and he was fairly certain that Vincent didn't want him anywhere near him.

"You are many things, Vincent....but hated and unwanted are not among them." He said it softly but his grip on a decorative orb was tight, his knuckles turning white even beneath his already pale skin. He took a deep, shuddering breath, held it, and released it as he hung his head. "I thought you knew...about what I am. I was never clear about it...looking back on it all. So that is my fault as well." He turned and took a few steps closer to his blonde, his steps hesitant steps and light as if he were ready to run at even the slightest movement. "But you must know that I...I-I," He lowered himself to his knees, just a bit away from Vincent. "I do l-love you...as much as I'm able to." He lowered his gaze to his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. "You mean so much to me...how could you not? I don't know how to tell you...how to make you understand how and what it is I feel..." He could try to explain...but he felt that it would make things worse. Anger the other male or perhaps even scare him off.  

[Venti Mico]

"Then why? If you loved- if you cared about me at all, why would you hide things from me?" Vincent asked desperately, closing his eyes. He knew that was unfair... he'd never told Andre much about his past, he'd always hid it. But still, he was angry, he wanted to know why Andre would keep such important things from him, why he'd go off with another man. "Why would you do that to me? A-any guy off the street was okay? I'd do anything for you, I don't understand why..."

Had he done something wrong? Not done enough? Andre had given him all that information, so many years after they met, telling him about his condition. When he read it, so much made sense, but it didn't feel real. But now Andre said he loved him, the one thing he'd never once uttered in the decade they'd been together. Vincent leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands covering his eyes as he started tearing up. "Y-you've never said that to me, not a single time... how'm I supposed to believe it? I gave you everything and you turn around and... and..."  

[insidiousEnigma]

Andre reached out, tentatively touching the others shoulder before shifting to his knees so he could shuffle forward and wrap his arms tight around Vincent. "I didn't know how to tell you...what if you left?" He couldn't help the desperation that laced his tone and his grip tightened so much that his own arms began to ache. "That...that wasn't about you...or them. I was being selfish, I'm always being selfish but that...I was crashing and desperate and..." He shook his head before burying his face into Vincent's hair. "How could I tell you when I knew you would leave to find someone better...someone that actually deserves you?" He murmured as he drew back, his hands once against twisting together anxiously in his lap. "If I had said it before and you found out what I am later...you would think I said it to control you. Even now...." He gave into the urge and gripped his head tightly between his hands, his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain.

It all hurt so badly.

"I couldn't tell you because you deserve better than what I can give you...but I don't want you to leave."  

[Venti Mico]

Vincent flinched at Andre's touch, finally breaking down and letting out a shaky sob. His shoulders shook, and he tried to wipes his tears away before they could roll down his cheeks. He shook his head again, slipping of the couch and onto his knees in front of Andre. "S-stop, stop... you'll hurt yourself," he mumbled quietly, trying to lower Andre's hands down to his lap again. "You're r-real stupid, you know that? I wouldn't leave you, I can't, I... you're everything I've got, Andre."

Vincent wrapped his arms around Andre's shoulders, hiding his face in his neck. "You're so stupid... I don't want to leave you, I don't want someone else, just you. Even if you're selfish and... god, Andre, j-just don't ******** do that to me again- we can figure out what to do with the rest, you're smart enough you can always solve things... you're smart, but you're stupid, alright?" He sat up and looked Andre in the eyes, then leaned in and kissed him. "I love you, you big ********' a*****e..."  

[insidiousEnigma]

He let his hands fall limply back into his lap, "I'm an idiot." He agreed quietly with a slight nod. Only when he felt the others arms wrap around him did he open his eyes, though he let his cheek rest against the others shoulders. "I promise it won't happen again." He murmured, bringing his arms up to wrap firming around the blonde. "You're mine and...and I won't let anything ruin what we have. Never again." He promised, clutching tightly at Vincent's shirt. "We'll fix this together a-and it'll be fine...it'll be alright again." He wasn't sure which of them he was trying to comfort and as he looked up into Vincent's eyes he wondered if he looked as lost as he felt. He'd never well...felt so much all at once. Was this how ordinary people felt all the time? "I l-love you too, Vincent." He said, almost shyly, against the others lips.  

[Venti Mico]

Vincent reached up to cup Andre's face with his hands, thumbs brushing over his cheeks slowly. Andre rarely got so emotional, so distraught; part of Vincent hated it, he didn't want Andre to look so despondent. Another part of him was relieved, like it was proof of his sincerity, proof he meant everything he said. Even the smallest part of him that thought, I shouldn't forgive him so easily, was drowned out; he didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. What mattered was in front of him now.

"It'll be alright again, and... and we can go back to normal, right..?" He said, blinking to shed stray tears from his eyelashes. "You remember the first place we went out together? The restaurant... you cleaned me up in a gas station bathroom first, took me to a nice place even though I looked like a stray mutt," he said, pressing his forehead to Andre's with a quick kiss. "I wanna go there again. I could even go roll around in an alley first, for nostalgia's sake." Vincent smiled, leaning in for another kiss, then pulling back and ducking his head with a raspy cough. "Geez, ruining the moment... I'm romantic, right?" He looked up again once he'd stopped coughing, sheepishly smiling still.  

[insidiousEnigma]

Andre smiled a small, shaky smile as Vincent's gently caressed his face.

He was forgiven.
He didn't deserve it and he didn't know how he had managed to be so lucky, but he was forgiven.

"How could I forget? You smelled absolutely revolting." He cupped the others face in return, pressing numerous, quick, sweet kisses to the others cheeks and forehead. "Anything you want," He chuckled lightly as he wiped away the last few tears from Vincent's face. "Except I think we could forgo the rolling around in an alley." Not that Andre particularly cared about what people would think if they showed up filthy. Like the blond said, their first visit had been after a perfunctory wipe down in an old gas station. He didn't care then and he certainly didn't care now....

He did care about that cough though. "You haven't ruined anything, hush." He muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as they scanned the others face. He couldn't recall if Vincent had had it before their fight. He'd been so caught up in his high that he hadn't paid any attention. "How long have you had this cough?" He asked, releasing his hold on the others face so he could press his hands to the blond's chest.  

[Venti Mico]

He didn't want to talk about his cough. It was unimportant, he and Andre were on the way to patching their relationship. That was all he cared about. "Been off an' on, few weeks now. I've been smoking too much, probably." He said, looking up with a sheepish smile. "But, c'mon, you don't wanna relive meeting each other? Me settin' stuff on fire, you beatin' me up... those were the days!" He laughed, sounding a little raspy from his cough, but quickly wrapped his arms around Andre and lifted him up. He fell back onto the couch, without much grace.

"And hey, I didn't smell that bad, y'know! I bet I smelled pretty alright for a homeless kid! ...Maybe a little crispy. Like a week old barbecue! Then there was you, Mister King of the World, walkin' around like you owned the place, lookin' like a fancy rich boy! I mean, you do, and you are, but dang, talk about fitting. You were like a scary, fancy knight in shining armour!" Vincent rambled on, keeping his arms wrapped around his Andre.  

[insidiousEnigma]

"Mmn." He decided to let the topic go...for now. Vincent was conscious enough of his health that he would say something if he thought it was serious. Though if it persisted he'd wasn't above forcing the blond to get a check up.

"I-!" Andre gave a surprised grunt as he was lifted and suddenly falling onto the couch behind them. Lucky for them he didn't have time to be truly startled...the last time that had happened Vincent had walked away with a black eye and a bloody nose. He just gave the other a withering glare even as he shifted and squirmed to find a more comfortable position before settling with his head tucked neatly beneath his partner's chin and his hands splayed against his chest. "I didn't think you liked getting beat up, what with all of the complaining you did the next time I saw you." He said blithely, his fingers rubbing over the scarred 'A' that lay hidden beneath Vincent's shirt. The first sign of ownership.

"More like a rotten week old barbecue." He muttered, though he couldn't keep the fond smile off of his lips. He outright snorted with laughter at the others rambling. "'Mister King of the World', eh? I think I like the sound of that." He grinned fully, lazily kicking his legs. "I suppose that would make you my Queen? Or are we throwing traditional patriarchy aside and ruling the world as Kings?"