and sometimes family are the ones you'd choose

[forthsofar]

It isn't anybody's fault, not really. Not Neil's or Caleb's for being so happy in one another, or Nick's for having left, or Sabrina and Charlie's for having stayed. Not even her own, though at times that's a harder thing to believe. It's all of it, and none of it, and even though she's aware of a kind of coming out of the dark at last, it doesn't take much to sink her once again.

When everything was still raw and fresh, Nick gone a matter of hours rather than a long and still terrible stretch of days, Newt had invited her to come stay. To be with him and Kav and Charlie and the cats, to let herself be cared for. To accept, she thought then, made it feel real; a confirmation that something vital had broken and couldn't be repaired again. It had stayed on her mind anyway, something about it warm and glowing and kind in a way she knew she needed. When she said as much to Charlie a few days ago, the response had been immediate, instantaneous: It's not an invitation that expires, you know? Come stay.

She packed a bag and found a way to explain it to Neil, trying not to look for any kind of hurt or question in his eyes. It wasn't forever, and it wasn't his fault. It was just something she needed to do.

Today, she's spent much like the last few days; quiet and brittle, floating from one room to another. Sometimes alone, sometimes picking up the thread of an easy conversation, sometimes saying nothing as she just shares space with whoever's there. She'd fallen asleep on the couch, drifting off in the middle of a show she and Charlie had put on mostly for the noise and distraction of it, and wakes a short time later to the scent of someone cooking something in the next room. While she slept, one of the cats had curled up with her, a solid weight on the blanket by her legs, and as she gets up she's careful not to disturb him.

Dressed in leggings and a t-shirt she'd borrowed from Charlie, she pads into the kitchen to see who else is around.

Comments

[thebloodyglue]

"It sounds like you're young and you don't necessarily know what you want," he says, leaning forward to freshen both cups of tea from the poet. "I'm guessing you'd never been with a girl before Sabrina. That's another way you're different from me and Kavinsky. Not Al, though."

[forthsofar]

"I hadn't until Sabrina, you're right," she says, nodding her thanks as he freshens up her mug. "There was a moment ages ago when I knew Eponine had a crush, and I thought maybe, but it never went anywhere in particular. But then there was Sabrina, and it did go someplace, sometimes."

Rosie curls her hands around her mug, letting the warmth seep into her palms. "I'm betting it wasn't this difficult for Al, working everything out."

[thebloodyglue]

"You'd be surprised how long it took him to get used to the idea of being with Kavinsky," he says. "Like, when it was me, it was okay, because it was the person, you know? Not any big revelation about his sexuality. "But when it was Kavinsky, too?" He raises his eyebrows and takes a sip of his tea. "So what you've got to figure out is whether its a revelation or not."

[forthsofar]

Rosie nods and sips her tea, inwardly relieved that it hadn't been as easy as she'd assumed--easier for him than it's felt for her at times, certainly, but not simple. It's rude to be comforted by that, but she is.

"I don't think it's a revelation," she says slowly, choosing her words as carefully as she can. It won't be enough, but she tries. "But I'm not sure if it's the person, either. I don't know where that leaves me."

[thebloodyglue]

"I know it shucking sucks, sweetheart, but nobody can actually help you with that," he says, sipping his tea. "You've got to figure that out on your own and then you've got to talk to them about it."

[forthsofar]

"What if what I figure out ruins everything we have left?" she says, finally asking the thing that's been lurking at the back of her mind ever since the sharp initial pain of Nick's disappearance had faded to a duller ache. It's a thought she's tried to ignore, and barely ever succeeded.

"I don't want to hurt them any more than we've all already been hurt."

[thebloodyglue]

"I know it sounds callous, but you've got to take care of yourself first, Rosie, love," says Newt, setting his cup down. "Whatever that looks like."

[forthsofar]

"That does sound callous," she says, but it's quiet and without heat; more resignation than anything else. It's another thing she can't help but notice, and wish she hadn't. "But I don't think you're wrong. I want you to be, but I don't think you are."

[thebloodyglue]

"Have you tried intellectualising what you want out of it?" he asks, tilting his head and studying her face for a long moment. "Instead of just sinking into the visceral reaction that's making you miserable."

[forthsofar]

Rosie shakes her head, making a small, negative sound along with the motion. She sees the way he looks at her, seeing her in a way that feels both sympathetic and complete, and rather than worry her answer's disappointed him she just has the sense of being understood.

"I've tried," she says. "But I never get very far. Or know where to start, some of the time. Everything's been so much, even before Nick left, I just keep going back to how awful I feel."

[thebloodyglue]

"You can practise on me, if you think it'd help," says Newt, draining the rest of his tea and setting down the cup. "If nothing else, I'm good for listening."

[forthsofar]

"It might help," she says, smiling a little as he downs the rest of his tea. "At least, it couldn't hurt."

Rosie goes quiet again, thinking, doing her best to consider it in some kind of abstract rather than the mire of sadness and uncertainty it had been for weeks. She hadn't been lying when she'd told him it was hard.

"I can't keep feeling like there's something I need to measure up to. Or make up for. And that's true no matter who I'm with, whether it's Sabrina or...not."

[thebloodyglue]

Newt nods, but doesn't saying anything, just watching her, waiting for her to get her thoughts together and keep talking.

[forthsofar]

Newt had promised to listen, and listen he does, sitting with her at the table. She half-expects him to interject when she pauses, jump in with some kind of advice or suggestion already, but all he does is wait. It fills her with gratitude and uncertainty in nearly equal parts.

"If Sabrina and I are going to be more than...occasional, if I decide I want to really, properly be in a relationship with her? It has to be an equal footing, like it is with her and Charlie. I'm not just someone else."

[thebloodyglue]

"That makes sense," says Newt, nodding, idly swirling what's left in his mug around. "Even if you and Charlie are never going to be together that doesn't mean it isn't the three of you in something together. On equal footing."

[forthsofar]

"Exactly," Rosie says. It's a relief to know she's made that much clear, at least, despite her earlier upset. "I need to feel like whatever Sabrina and I are to each other is just as important as she and Charlie are to each other, as a couple. And honestly, even though it's a different kind of love, a different definition, my friendship with Charlie also means just as much."

She takes another sip of her tea. It's not as good now, lukewarm as it is, but there's not much left anyway. "I think it's important all three of us are getting the things that make us happy out of...whatever happens to us now. What we become without Nick."

[thebloodyglue]

"So that's what you need to tell her," says Newt, setting down his empty mug. "It sounds like you know exactly what you need to say, love. You just need to get it done."

[forthsofar]

"I think you're right," she says. "No, I know you're right, and once it's done, it's done and we can...work on the things that happen next, whatever they are." Rosie looks up at him as he sets his mug down, her hands still wrapped around her own, holding onto it more for the sake of having the weight of something in her hands. It all sounds so much simpler, hearing it from him.

"I just don't want Sabrina to blame herself for the things that need to change. Or the reasons why. That I felt secondary, or thought saying no to something made me ordinary, or didn't know if I wanted her as more than just a friend. It's not that I hated what we used to have, but I can't...have it any longer."

[thebloodyglue]

"The things that we want change, love," he says, with a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And that's okay. That's allowed. Kavinsky is a different person that he was when I met him. We've...grown into each other. I think that's normal."

[forthsofar]

Rosie nods. "I know I'm not the same person now as I'd been back home. Or when I first arrived here." She laughs, a small, bright sound that comes so easily after everything that she's momentarily surprised. "When I met you, and I was in that ridiculous dress, and look at us now."

Back home, she had always wanted to be different--more exciting, or off doing interesting things, or at the least making plans to when she was a little older. It had never struck her as easy, but it she'd never anticipated it being quite this hard. But the only thing to do was keep going.