maximumcake | [IC Inbox]

Profile

Max Maximum

"You've reached Max Maximum. Leave a detailed message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks."

Tags:

ic inbox

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Max hadn't slept very well or very much. As such, he is, on this rare occasion, still in bed at dawn. But he's awake. Just laying there in a state of melancholy.

When the knock comes on his door, and he hears Lioriley's voice, he considers pretending to actually be asleep. That would be easier than facing what he'd done. But that won't make things better. He owes her an apology. He can at least try to be man enough to deliver it.

"The door is open. You... can come in."

He rolls to the side of the bed and hauls himself into a sitting position. He's naked except for a pair of gym shorts. But nothing in the way his shoulders sag or his back hunches looks remotely sexy at the moment.

She hesitates at the door even once his invitation comes, lower lip worried between her teeth as she considers the merits of this conversation. She can't just leave him as he is - can't just leave their relationship with this odd black mark on it now.

So, slowly, she opens the door and peeks in, her heart immediately sinking in her chest at the sight of him. He looks miserable. Surely that was not all her doing, was it?

She moves over to the bed but doesn't sit, opting instead to stand in front of him and gently place a hand on his cheek. "Max." Her voice is soft, a whisper, soothing - at least, she hopes so. "I believe we ended our conversation on the wrong foot last night. So I...I wished to aplogize for any distress I may have caused you."

That hand on his cheek gets him to lift his eyes, slowly. There's pain in them, but it's a pain of his own making. He grips her hand and removes it. He doesn't deserve that. Or her apology.

"No. Lioriley. No. Don't apologize. It's me. It's my fault. I should never have opened my big fat mouth. I'm sorry I said those things. And I'm sorry about what I said about Astarion. I'm just... I'm sorry."

She lets her hand drop, but it's not without a pained look of her own, eyes widening slightly with surprise. Her fingers twitch at her side, the desire to hold him strong and nearly impossible to ignore - but she wills herself not to. For now.

"You are forgiven." She says easily. "Your intentions were good, Max, and I truly do appreciate your concern for mine and Astarion's safety. I cannot fault you for doing what you thought to be right."

The worst part is how much he wants her to hold him. How he wants to reach out to her. But he can't bring himself to do it.

"I was..." he says helplessly, "I thought I was. But I... it still doesn't make it right. It's just..."

No. No, he doesn't deserve to make excuses for himself. It doesn't matter that Astarion gave him reasons to worry because of his inexperience (and what happened to Quentin). He was still wrong to lecture them like that.

"I'm sorry if I've made things awkward for you with Astarion now. Or Edgar. Fuck. I made everything a mess. I don't... I won't say anything anymore. You're smarter than I am anyway. I should have trusted you better."

She steels herself, her hypocritical frustration in seeing him speak so unkindly of himself forming a weight in her gut. But lashing out will do nothing for either of them - so she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and speaks after she gathers her thoughts.

"Astarion and I are fine." She assures him, perhaps even vaguely amused by the idea that they were the ones that might have issues. "I shall not speak much for him, but you may very well need to have another proper discussion - no need for things to be left festering like this. As for Edgar...well, if you speak with him, I would like you to be honest. He is a strong, sweet boy, and I am certain he will recover quickly with you there to support him. And should he not wish to be around me for a time - I...I understand."

A beat. She sighs. "You should have trusted me, but...you were trying to help, and sometimes we speak before we think, act when we should not. These things happen, Max. I will not blame you for trying to help someone you care for."

"I-I'll apologize to him too... if he wants to hear it from me." If he wants to hear from Max ever again. He'll need to think of something he can bring. Cookies won't work...

"Are you really sure you'd want me to say anything at all to Edgar? I'll just make it worse. I know it. Maybe it would just be better to... let whatever happens happen." Honestly, that can't be worse than the mess Max would make of it. How many more friendships could he ruin?

"I won't do this again. I promise." He's done sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong. Consider this his lesson learned.

"Give him time." She says, biting the inside of her cheek. "Allow me to discuss it further with him, and we can arrange for you two to meet - will that be sufficient?" She sure hoped so.

She sighs again, and by now she can no longer resist the urge to comfort him. This time she maneuvers to push herself into his lap, sitting sideways so she can rest her head on his shoulder. What is he going to do, push her off? She doubts it.

"You will not make anything worse. Edgar thinks the world of you, Max - and I cannot say it will not be a difficult topic to discuss, but if you consider your words before you speak them, you will be fine. Just...take your time." Essentially: think before you speak. In nicer words.

She shakes her head. "You will. 'Tis in your nature - but that is not a bad thing."

"Yes. That. That would be okay."

He goes utterly stiff. No. He won't push her off. No. What he wants is to wrap his arms around her and let these tears stinging the back of his eyes finally fall. But he can't. He shouldn't. She shouldn't have to deal with how broken he really is. She has her own worries. Yet he can't stop himself from spilling the words, the moment he feels the warmth of her embrace against him.

"No," it comes out a sob despite his best efforts. "It's not. It's not my nature. It's a mistake. My nature is to...be quiet and do as I'm told. I should have stuck to that. I'm not... I'm not good at this. I want to be, but I'm not."

It's a strange sensation, sitting in Max's lap and not feeling that instant warmth and safety of his arms around her. But it's fine, she can do it just the same - wrap her arms around him and nuzzle her face into his neck, conveniently hiding the look of sadness in her own eyes.

"It is your nature, your true nature - not what your master instilled in you. If you were meant to be quiet and subservient, you would not be so willing to thrust yourself into situations like this. You want to help people, Max, and perhaps your methods are a bit...clumsy now, but you will find your feet. You just have to keep trying." She squeezes her arms around him tightly. "Please, keep trying."

This is it. The thing that really breaks him. She should be furious. And yet, here she is comforting him. She's too good. Too pure. Does he deserve her confidence? Of course, he doesn't.

When her arms squeeze him tight, another sob catches in his throat. He can't speak, the words are choked off. The most she gets is a desperate whine that rumbles in his chest.

At please keep trying he loses even that small fraction of control. His arms wrap around her. He buries his face into her back. And he weeps. Like a lost child.

She would be happy he finally chose to return her embrace, were it not for the sobs and cries that follow. She keeps one arm tight around him, the other raised to tangle her fingers into his hair and gently knead against his scalp.

"Shhh." She coos, closing her eyes, head tilted back to gently press her lips to his temple. "It is alright, Max. You will be alright. I promise." Then, she just...let's him cry, comforting him with soft murmurs and pets against his head.

Eventually, he cries himself out and quiets against her. Self-loathing solidifies in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. Would he ever manage not to become a sobbing mess at the first sign of conflict? He doesn't mean to be like this. He wishes so desperately to be anything else.

"Thank you," he croaks. "I'm really. I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry."

At some point her fingers graze against the back of his neck, where that brand she spotted weeks ago rests. She had a lot of assumptions, never asked for fear of sparking some memory he did not care to recall, but so many things made sense now when she thought about it.

She does not linger there for long though; only a split second before she returns to soothing him until he's finished crying. "It is fine, Max. No more apologies." She kisses his temple again. "Tell me what you wish of me. What will make you feel better after all of this?"

He jerks as if he's been burned when her fingers graze that mark, though it hasn't hurt him. And moments later, he knows there won't be anything in the world he can do to keep her from noticing it.

"I don't want anything from you except what you've always been. I want to be your friend and sometimes your lover. I don't want to have ruined that. I don't want you to...think worse of me because of this." He puts his own hand lightly to the scar on his neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this sooner." One more apology? Oops.

"That will never change. Not unless you wish it to." She says, letting her hand drop to rest idly on his chest, glancing to where he sets his own.

"I already knew of it." She admits. "I had seen it when you wished for me to aid you in your work out, but I had presumed you did not care to speak of it - so I did not bring it up. Is it...is it from your master?"

He presses his lips together, trying to keep himself from frowning so deeply. She'd seen it. He really should learn to put a bandaid over it or something...

"Yes. It's his coat of arms. That's how people, well, other vampires, know not to touch me. Because I'm his." His property. His to protect and keep.

She hates that she was right, and her gut roils uneasily; a taste of bile in her throat. Her fingers curl against his chest, and if he was wearing a shirt she would be clutching it tight.

"And yet he allows them to drink from you without issue? You spoke as if it was common, as if...he was not the only one that did it. Or am I assuming too much?"

He clutches her hand to him. It hurts to see her like this. See, this is why he hates telling people.

"He's a powerful lord. He has other vampire lords who visit him frequently for business. And I..." He swallows thickly, "I'm in charge of... entertaining them. Part of my Master's...hospitality."

"Oh, Max." She says softly, voice barely above a whisper. She cannot lean into him anymore than she is already - but rest assured, if she could she absolutely would right now.

"I did not know." Obviously. "I am truly sorry you had to suffer such a thing - a man as kind and gentle as you are. But it is good, is it not...that here you are free of him?"

"It wasn't all bad," he says, barely above a whisper. "I don't... I don't hate him. I know maybe I should but... he protected me. He took care of me." And, especially at moments like this, he misses having someone to tell him how to act, what to do.

"I am happier here. Don't get me wrong. I'm much happier here. I just... it wasn't torture every single day. Not like..." not like it was for Astarion. He takes another hitching breath, reminded once more of his own hypocrisy.

He was too kind, like so many claimed her to be. And she would be lying if she thought, should she have been the one in such a situation, she might not have thought the same way. So she can't blame him for his response; the defense of his master, but she sure doesn't have to like it either.

"Perhaps not, but you still did not deserve it. No one has the right to rule another, to force them to do things they should not. You have suffered, Max, but you are not weak or helpless, and you are most certainly not alone. Do not think you have to suffer by yourself, if you must suffer at all."

She sighs. "But...your response earlier makes sense now." A lot of sense.

He shudders. A storm of conflicting emotions whirl in his chest. "According to vampire law, he did have the right. And I had no choice."

Max is not sure he agrees with her. He feels pretty helpless most days. He fakes confidence like a pro, but that's all it is. Smoke and mirrors.

"I don't have to like it, but it's the truth. I just... I'm trying to change Lioriley. But I don't know how."

Edited Date: 2020-12-06 09:36 pm (UTC)

"Vampire law." She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "What vile abuse of such things to force those weaker than them to conform to their will. There are surely means around it." She knows from experience - there are always loopholes. A shame she could not try and find one here.

She tries, trying to calm her annoyance of so called laws of immortals and the bind that Max was apparently in, if only for his sake. "It will take time, but I am here to help you - whatever you need me to do, any advice you seek...you can come to me."

"There's more to it than that. I mean..." He huffs. "Lioriley. I literally don't have a choice. Because if I leave my Master, I'll be killed. Not by him, but by his enemies. He's the only thing standing between me and terrible, gruesome death. I have to do what he says if I want to keep on living."

That's why the loopholes won't apply. The doors aren't locked. Max could leave. He could walk out those doors any time. But he wouldn't last a day on his own. Erik is the only one who can save him.

Max cuddles into her a little closer, trying to convey his gratitude where words fail. "I'll... try to remember that. I'm not... I'm still not good at this. But I'll try."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Active Entries

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags