Why do I even bother?
OOC: Brendan and Avex finally break off their relationship. Kinda sad, but was a fun RP. :)
Paradise Villa #240 - Brendan's Apartment(#1157RC)
This apartment looks about as run down as the hallway outside. Among other things it could use a fresh coat of paint. There are several spots on the walls with large dents in the drywall that could really use a patch job. The carpet is worn almost through in the high traffic areas and has several mystery stains in various locations. There is a very small main room, perhaps 15' square. Off of that room is a bedroom of equal size and then a tiny bathroom which is barely big enough to fit in the toilet and the shower.
All in all the apartment is as clean as it could possibly be considering that most of the things that make it look dirty are things that need to be replaced, like the carpet. The furniture is also old and worn, looking to be acquired second hand. There is an old beat up couch and a very old looking, though functional, TV on a table across from it. Along one side of the main room is the 'kitchen', or at least a 3' wide strip of peeling linoleum flooring in front of a small sink, range, and refrigerator which are all old old models.
The bedroom has a small dresser in the corner and some piles of clothes in some of the corners. The bed is just two mattresses stacked upon one another on the floor. The walls in here are coated with posters of various popular bands of the more hardcore variety along with a smattering of posters from industrial bands.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
Brendan had been a bit more stable mentally the past few days; he had taken a few opportunities to go outside and walk around a bit to clear his head, and it seemed to have helped his mindset, at least temporarily. Right now, he is in the kitchen, pouring himself a strong drink. Lately he had been carrying various forms of alcohol in his fridge, and that seems to help calm him down at points as well, at least enough to let him get some sleep. Picking up the glass, he walks back into the living room, intent on another fun evening of staring at the wall and thinking.
Averillix was. The younger Xavierite professor makes her way into the complex, through elevator, of course; it was too hot again today, and as she hurries out of the elevator in dirt splashed jeans and a yellow mesh top (with her black swimsuit beneath, of course), the girl swishes a spiky, messy ponytail back over her shoulders. Oi. Hot. Avex makes her way slowly down the hall, and as she comes to Brendan's door, she gives a soft, tentative rap.
Brendan lazily raises his eyes to the door as the knock reaches his ears. He frowns slightly, not expecting any visitors tnoight, though, honestly...when did he ever? "Hang on," he calls out. Setting his drink down on the endtable, Brendan heads over to the door. Undoing the locks, the door eventually swings open inwards. He stands there framed in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at Avex. "Hi," he replies. "Didn't expect you today. I figured I wasn't your favorite person in the world, so I didn't think I'd see you again. Come in." He takes a step back, before slowly sauntering back towards the couch.
Wince. This was just getting easier by the moment, really... Given the not so friendly greeting, Averillix makes her way in, following after Brendan, those silver eyes of hers whitening bit by bit. As Brendan sits down, therefore, she stays standing, fidgeting and staring at her gymshoes for awhile in silence; then those eyes of hers peer up at him, and as her brows knit together, there's an expression of nervous naysay in her features. "We need to talk..." Her voice is barely more than a whisper, if even that.
Brendan picks up his drink, gesturing toward the chair nearby to where Avex is standing. "Have a seat. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, in that same nonchalant, perhaps a bit tipsy, tone. "What's on your mind?" He fixes that unsettling gaze on her, eyes unwavering, a cold glimmer present in them that was never really there before, at least when Averillix was around. "But if we're going to talk," he smirks..."...could you please speak up? I can hardly hear you."
Thumps and thuds start up stronger in the Frenchwoman's chest and head, and her hands are wrung, over and over again. Averillix does eventually sit in that seat offerred, but only for a short while; as if burned by it, she jumps up, moving to sit on the opposite end of the couch as Brendan. She stares at her hands, again - nervous tick? - then peers up at him. The look doesn't help, and again the woman is set into movement, this time jumping up and heading for the door. "It's not a good time, is it? I can... we can talk about it later." Rushed speech slips from her mouth, and as she stares at Brendan, her hands keep up.
Brendan reaches a hand down and calmly touches it to the floor, while at the same time sipping from his glass. A soft flicker of light later, and the locks on the door re-lock again, seemingly by themselves. "No," he intones. "You took the time to come down here and visit me, so I am quite interested in what you have to say. Especially since you look like you're about to jump right out of your skin," he grins slowly. "Why are you so scared of me, Avex? You never were before..." he chuckles, an unsettling rumble. "Do I honestly look -that- bad, hon?"
Averillix stares at the locks, eyes immediately going to red as she gasps. There were, however, no plants in the immediate vicinity, and as such, nothing happened. She was just frightened, plain and simple. At least it kept her powers from fritizing. Brows are knit again, this time, translating the terorrizing that her own mind is putting her through, and she turns to Brendan. "Unlock the door. Please..."
Brendan's expression doesn't shift from the amusement that had appeared there a few moments earlier, and he brings his hand up from the floor. Settling it on his lap, he gives his head a single shake. "No. At least not until I find out your intentions for coming here this afternoon. I mean, why waste both your time and mine, Avex? It just doesn't make much sense to me, is all." He takes another drink. "Now sit. Please." He lifts his hand, gesturing to the chair with a brief yet casual wave. "Can I get you something to drink?" His tone changes, shifting into one he might use while chatting casually with someone. "I'd most likely have anything you could think of, at least if it contains alcohol."
"It's not, I just... I mean..." And thus the flower child is back to square one, plunking down on the couch, defeated looking. Brows are still furrowed, and her irises are still red, and she sighs. "It's... it's about us, and..." And this wasn't as easy as she thought it was. She shakes her head at the offer of drink, sighing and staring now... At Brendan's shoes. "I don't drink."
Brendan's eyes settle upon Avex as she finally sits. "Now's a perfect time to start, don't you think? I mean, I never really drank either up until a couple months ago." He lifts the glass to his lips again, taking a long sip. He exhales softly, settling the drink back down to the endtable. "It really helps you relax, I think. It helps clear one's head, in a way. Suit yourself, though." His expression really doesn't change much, even as she finally admits what she came here to say; his brows only lift a bit in expectation. "Us, hmm? Do tell, you've perked my interest..."
Averillix shakes her head again. The lack of expressional change gets raised eyebrows, and Averillix looks up at Brendan, eyebrows unknitting and raising slightly. "I - well, I," there's a pause here, to swallow. "I'm not sure, anymore... If we're good for one another. I mean -" Avex sits up, pressing both hands to the couch as her eyes start to turn a brighter shade of pink. "I mean that, well... I'm busy, and ... and you've changed and I've changed and I don't know what I mean anymore." At about the first changed, tears had built up in the woman's eyes, and by the end of her sentence, Averillix is full on crying. She reaches up one hand, brushing at the undersides of her eyes.
Brendan's hand visibly tightens upon his glass as he listens, though his expression doesn't visibly change. It seems the two have opposite reactions; Avex is crying, while Brendan just sits there calmly. For the most part, anyhow. Very slowly, little hairline cracks begin to creep up the sides of the glass, though they wouldn't yet be visible to Avex. "I've changed? Really? How so?" his head cocks to the side just a bit. "As far as I know, I've always been the same. Perhaps you've changed, but honestly, is that really my fault?" he chuckles. "You say you're busy. What I'm wondering though is...busy at -what-, exactly?" Ouch. "I sit here, day after day, waiting to hear from you. And what do I get in return? You randomly running me over with a bicycle on the street one day. I hardly think that's fair, how about you?" Slowly the liquid begins to drip from Brendan's glass onto the floor below...
Averillix sniffles softly, and now pastel pink eyes stare up at him; she hiccups. "The one night, when you went loopy on me. You were acting weird then. And it's not like you can't -" Another hiccup. Averillix pauses, moving her hair our of her face and having it just fall back into her face - "It's not like you couldn't've taken the train and met me any day, you know. And then there's the..." Averillix trails off, and she just starts sobbing. "I have a -job-. I have people I have to look after and protect and I'm /trying/ and..." Rambling ensues . . . now.
Brendan laughs dryly, quite an odd sound in the emotionally tense air. "Are you serious?" His eyes flicker a brighter blue, sizzling a moment before returning to their previous calm. "Look at me, Avex. Do you not notice the fact that I'm glowing right now? Do you think that makes it easy for me just to go out and take the train whenever I want?" Audible cracking noises begin to emanate from the glass in his fist, more liquid flowing down over his wrist to drip onto the carpet...though soon the amber liquid darkens with a crimson tint as the shards dig into Brendan's palm. "Then there's the what? Go on, tell me. You're already on a roll, so you may as well get it all out while you can. You've already basically told me that I'm useless, so I wonder what you have to add to that?" Remarkably, his expression still remains stoic, though there is definitely something beginning to bubble up beneath.
Averillix jumps about a foot, up off the couch and onto her feet. A sob is muffled, and Averillix reaches up to wipe her eyes, then tug at her hair. "Do you think it's any easier for /me/? At least people can pretend they don't notice you. I'm some sort of... -freak- minority girl with slanted, changing silver eyes and green hair that's /obviously/ natural, and I have a fucked up accent." Wow. Averillix just said fuck. "Do you think you're the only person they're mean to, Brendan? Do you think it's not hard for me, too, to come and see you?" Anger seethes in those pink toned eyes, and the sound of glass breaking and a muffled 'hey!' from the floor above is heard. Someone had a potted plant. Had being operative. "/When/ did I say that you were useless?!"
Brendan smirks, "You seemed to make it here fine right now. This is Clinton, for God's sake, it's not as if it's someplace ritzy. There are a lot of odd people in this area, Avex. They wouldn't give you a second glance, believe me. I should know, I live here. So don't give me that excuse." He hears the breaking glass and the muffled voice from above, but he merely shrugs it off. Weird sounds came from up there all the time. "As far as you saying I am useless, you cut yourself off before you could actually come out and say it...but I think you were implying it by talking about the fact that you have a job and people to protect and all that, while all I have is what you see right now." He pauses. "Nothing." The glass finally shatters in a spark of blue light, eliciting a wince from Brendan, though a majority of the shards fall to the ground along with whatever was inside. Blood eventually begins to drip down from his dangling hand, though he doesn't seem to care.
"I never said that! I'm saying that I can't -" The shattering of the glass is watched, shrieked at, and quickly thereafter Averillix runs her hands through her hair. There's no pause between her hand falling down to her side and her departure to the kitchen, and the sound of her rifling is heard. When she returns, it's with a cloth, and she plunks down on the couch next to him. Not looking up into the blues of his eyes, Averillix extends her hand emtpy hand, beckoning for his. "Here."
Brendan's eyes turn to stare down at his bleeding hand. The corners of his lips twitch a couple of times, but otherwise he just looks at the hand, as if the blood doesn't belong to him. He has fallen silent now, an unsettling calm setting within the room though there is still an uncomfortable energy present. He lets Avex take his limp hand, letting her wrap it in the cloth if that's what she was planning on doing. Eventually he turns his stare back to the girl, fixing it upon her and just watching her with those strange eyes. "Thank you," he intones, halfheartedly. "Now I need to buy a new glass. That's unfortunate."
Averillix will be wrapping it, in a bit. For now, though, the girl starts to pick the pieces of glass out of Brendan's hand, careful as she can. The shards are then placed in her own hand, the woman wincing every so often as it digs into her own palm. "I'm sorry about the glass. And about your hand." That being said, after the glass is all removed, she starts to wrap up his hand, remaining silent. Each twist of the cloth is tighter on her other hand, more gentle on Brendan's own, until she's done wrapping his, having embedded the shards into her own.
Brendan looks back down to his hand as it is wrapped. "And the fact that you're leaving me," he replies, getting the general gist of why she came over. "I understand. You would think that I would be surprised, or sad even, but to be perfectly honest with you..." he pauses..."I saw this coming. The thing is, there wasn't anything I could do about it. I knew this day would come, I just continued to tell myself that it wouldn't be this soon." His voice is somewhat weary, though he still impressively keeps up the whole calm charade. "If you left anything here, feel free to take it with you. I most likely won't need whatever it is..." He feels the ache in his hand, but it feels positively exquisite compared to the one in his chest right now.
Averillix gives a soft little nod. She's still holding onto Brendan's hand as he speaks, and there are several moments where she just... pauses. Not moving to speak or anything, it's just a noticable pause in her features. Instead of saying anything more, though, she moves toward the kitchen. The faucet is audible, as is the opening and shutting of the garbage can and the tinkling of glass down into the bag. When she comes back, she continues to stand, staring at her feet. "I didn't leave anything here. You can keep the hat, though; I gave that to you." Pain is in the silver gunmetal gaze, but she won't cry again. Not yet.
Brendan's hand reaches down to touch the floor again, and with another flicker of light, the locks all slowly click open once again, the door swinging open with a soft creak. "Thank you," he replies. "The door's open, feel free to leave whenever you see fit." He pushes himself up to his feet, leaving the spilled drink on the floor, and he drifts over towards his room. He steps inside, pausing once to look back over his shoulder at Avex as she stands there. His eyes shimmer for a brief moment, before he quickly shoves the emotion back down to where it had been hiding. "Goodbye, Averillix..." The door closes behind him with a soft click...and then there is no sound from within, the only noises audible is are muffled steps from the floor above, and the occasional soft grumble.
A gamut of emotions runs through the girl, silver eyes indicating each one of them clearly, until Brendan shuts the door; then her eyes sharply turn white. The door to his room is stared at and, reaching into her bag and pulling out a short, rectangular object, she places it on the coffee table before turning and heading out the door, pulling it shut behind her. And the thing she left behind?
The cellphone he'd given her.
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Paradise Villa #240 - Brendan's Apartment(#1157RC)
This apartment looks about as run down as the hallway outside. Among other things it could use a fresh coat of paint. There are several spots on the walls with large dents in the drywall that could really use a patch job. The carpet is worn almost through in the high traffic areas and has several mystery stains in various locations. There is a very small main room, perhaps 15' square. Off of that room is a bedroom of equal size and then a tiny bathroom which is barely big enough to fit in the toilet and the shower.
All in all the apartment is as clean as it could possibly be considering that most of the things that make it look dirty are things that need to be replaced, like the carpet. The furniture is also old and worn, looking to be acquired second hand. There is an old beat up couch and a very old looking, though functional, TV on a table across from it. Along one side of the main room is the 'kitchen', or at least a 3' wide strip of peeling linoleum flooring in front of a small sink, range, and refrigerator which are all old old models.
The bedroom has a small dresser in the corner and some piles of clothes in some of the corners. The bed is just two mattresses stacked upon one another on the floor. The walls in here are coated with posters of various popular bands of the more hardcore variety along with a smattering of posters from industrial bands.
[Exits : [O]ut ]
Brendan had been a bit more stable mentally the past few days; he had taken a few opportunities to go outside and walk around a bit to clear his head, and it seemed to have helped his mindset, at least temporarily. Right now, he is in the kitchen, pouring himself a strong drink. Lately he had been carrying various forms of alcohol in his fridge, and that seems to help calm him down at points as well, at least enough to let him get some sleep. Picking up the glass, he walks back into the living room, intent on another fun evening of staring at the wall and thinking.
Averillix was. The younger Xavierite professor makes her way into the complex, through elevator, of course; it was too hot again today, and as she hurries out of the elevator in dirt splashed jeans and a yellow mesh top (with her black swimsuit beneath, of course), the girl swishes a spiky, messy ponytail back over her shoulders. Oi. Hot. Avex makes her way slowly down the hall, and as she comes to Brendan's door, she gives a soft, tentative rap.
Brendan lazily raises his eyes to the door as the knock reaches his ears. He frowns slightly, not expecting any visitors tnoight, though, honestly...when did he ever? "Hang on," he calls out. Setting his drink down on the endtable, Brendan heads over to the door. Undoing the locks, the door eventually swings open inwards. He stands there framed in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe as he looks down at Avex. "Hi," he replies. "Didn't expect you today. I figured I wasn't your favorite person in the world, so I didn't think I'd see you again. Come in." He takes a step back, before slowly sauntering back towards the couch.
Wince. This was just getting easier by the moment, really... Given the not so friendly greeting, Averillix makes her way in, following after Brendan, those silver eyes of hers whitening bit by bit. As Brendan sits down, therefore, she stays standing, fidgeting and staring at her gymshoes for awhile in silence; then those eyes of hers peer up at him, and as her brows knit together, there's an expression of nervous naysay in her features. "We need to talk..." Her voice is barely more than a whisper, if even that.
Brendan picks up his drink, gesturing toward the chair nearby to where Avex is standing. "Have a seat. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, in that same nonchalant, perhaps a bit tipsy, tone. "What's on your mind?" He fixes that unsettling gaze on her, eyes unwavering, a cold glimmer present in them that was never really there before, at least when Averillix was around. "But if we're going to talk," he smirks..."...could you please speak up? I can hardly hear you."
Thumps and thuds start up stronger in the Frenchwoman's chest and head, and her hands are wrung, over and over again. Averillix does eventually sit in that seat offerred, but only for a short while; as if burned by it, she jumps up, moving to sit on the opposite end of the couch as Brendan. She stares at her hands, again - nervous tick? - then peers up at him. The look doesn't help, and again the woman is set into movement, this time jumping up and heading for the door. "It's not a good time, is it? I can... we can talk about it later." Rushed speech slips from her mouth, and as she stares at Brendan, her hands keep up.
Brendan reaches a hand down and calmly touches it to the floor, while at the same time sipping from his glass. A soft flicker of light later, and the locks on the door re-lock again, seemingly by themselves. "No," he intones. "You took the time to come down here and visit me, so I am quite interested in what you have to say. Especially since you look like you're about to jump right out of your skin," he grins slowly. "Why are you so scared of me, Avex? You never were before..." he chuckles, an unsettling rumble. "Do I honestly look -that- bad, hon?"
Averillix stares at the locks, eyes immediately going to red as she gasps. There were, however, no plants in the immediate vicinity, and as such, nothing happened. She was just frightened, plain and simple. At least it kept her powers from fritizing. Brows are knit again, this time, translating the terorrizing that her own mind is putting her through, and she turns to Brendan. "Unlock the door. Please..."
Brendan's expression doesn't shift from the amusement that had appeared there a few moments earlier, and he brings his hand up from the floor. Settling it on his lap, he gives his head a single shake. "No. At least not until I find out your intentions for coming here this afternoon. I mean, why waste both your time and mine, Avex? It just doesn't make much sense to me, is all." He takes another drink. "Now sit. Please." He lifts his hand, gesturing to the chair with a brief yet casual wave. "Can I get you something to drink?" His tone changes, shifting into one he might use while chatting casually with someone. "I'd most likely have anything you could think of, at least if it contains alcohol."
"It's not, I just... I mean..." And thus the flower child is back to square one, plunking down on the couch, defeated looking. Brows are still furrowed, and her irises are still red, and she sighs. "It's... it's about us, and..." And this wasn't as easy as she thought it was. She shakes her head at the offer of drink, sighing and staring now... At Brendan's shoes. "I don't drink."
Brendan's eyes settle upon Avex as she finally sits. "Now's a perfect time to start, don't you think? I mean, I never really drank either up until a couple months ago." He lifts the glass to his lips again, taking a long sip. He exhales softly, settling the drink back down to the endtable. "It really helps you relax, I think. It helps clear one's head, in a way. Suit yourself, though." His expression really doesn't change much, even as she finally admits what she came here to say; his brows only lift a bit in expectation. "Us, hmm? Do tell, you've perked my interest..."
Averillix shakes her head again. The lack of expressional change gets raised eyebrows, and Averillix looks up at Brendan, eyebrows unknitting and raising slightly. "I - well, I," there's a pause here, to swallow. "I'm not sure, anymore... If we're good for one another. I mean -" Avex sits up, pressing both hands to the couch as her eyes start to turn a brighter shade of pink. "I mean that, well... I'm busy, and ... and you've changed and I've changed and I don't know what I mean anymore." At about the first changed, tears had built up in the woman's eyes, and by the end of her sentence, Averillix is full on crying. She reaches up one hand, brushing at the undersides of her eyes.
Brendan's hand visibly tightens upon his glass as he listens, though his expression doesn't visibly change. It seems the two have opposite reactions; Avex is crying, while Brendan just sits there calmly. For the most part, anyhow. Very slowly, little hairline cracks begin to creep up the sides of the glass, though they wouldn't yet be visible to Avex. "I've changed? Really? How so?" his head cocks to the side just a bit. "As far as I know, I've always been the same. Perhaps you've changed, but honestly, is that really my fault?" he chuckles. "You say you're busy. What I'm wondering though is...busy at -what-, exactly?" Ouch. "I sit here, day after day, waiting to hear from you. And what do I get in return? You randomly running me over with a bicycle on the street one day. I hardly think that's fair, how about you?" Slowly the liquid begins to drip from Brendan's glass onto the floor below...
Averillix sniffles softly, and now pastel pink eyes stare up at him; she hiccups. "The one night, when you went loopy on me. You were acting weird then. And it's not like you can't -" Another hiccup. Averillix pauses, moving her hair our of her face and having it just fall back into her face - "It's not like you couldn't've taken the train and met me any day, you know. And then there's the..." Averillix trails off, and she just starts sobbing. "I have a -job-. I have people I have to look after and protect and I'm /trying/ and..." Rambling ensues . . . now.
Brendan laughs dryly, quite an odd sound in the emotionally tense air. "Are you serious?" His eyes flicker a brighter blue, sizzling a moment before returning to their previous calm. "Look at me, Avex. Do you not notice the fact that I'm glowing right now? Do you think that makes it easy for me just to go out and take the train whenever I want?" Audible cracking noises begin to emanate from the glass in his fist, more liquid flowing down over his wrist to drip onto the carpet...though soon the amber liquid darkens with a crimson tint as the shards dig into Brendan's palm. "Then there's the what? Go on, tell me. You're already on a roll, so you may as well get it all out while you can. You've already basically told me that I'm useless, so I wonder what you have to add to that?" Remarkably, his expression still remains stoic, though there is definitely something beginning to bubble up beneath.
Averillix jumps about a foot, up off the couch and onto her feet. A sob is muffled, and Averillix reaches up to wipe her eyes, then tug at her hair. "Do you think it's any easier for /me/? At least people can pretend they don't notice you. I'm some sort of... -freak- minority girl with slanted, changing silver eyes and green hair that's /obviously/ natural, and I have a fucked up accent." Wow. Averillix just said fuck. "Do you think you're the only person they're mean to, Brendan? Do you think it's not hard for me, too, to come and see you?" Anger seethes in those pink toned eyes, and the sound of glass breaking and a muffled 'hey!' from the floor above is heard. Someone had a potted plant. Had being operative. "/When/ did I say that you were useless?!"
Brendan smirks, "You seemed to make it here fine right now. This is Clinton, for God's sake, it's not as if it's someplace ritzy. There are a lot of odd people in this area, Avex. They wouldn't give you a second glance, believe me. I should know, I live here. So don't give me that excuse." He hears the breaking glass and the muffled voice from above, but he merely shrugs it off. Weird sounds came from up there all the time. "As far as you saying I am useless, you cut yourself off before you could actually come out and say it...but I think you were implying it by talking about the fact that you have a job and people to protect and all that, while all I have is what you see right now." He pauses. "Nothing." The glass finally shatters in a spark of blue light, eliciting a wince from Brendan, though a majority of the shards fall to the ground along with whatever was inside. Blood eventually begins to drip down from his dangling hand, though he doesn't seem to care.
"I never said that! I'm saying that I can't -" The shattering of the glass is watched, shrieked at, and quickly thereafter Averillix runs her hands through her hair. There's no pause between her hand falling down to her side and her departure to the kitchen, and the sound of her rifling is heard. When she returns, it's with a cloth, and she plunks down on the couch next to him. Not looking up into the blues of his eyes, Averillix extends her hand emtpy hand, beckoning for his. "Here."
Brendan's eyes turn to stare down at his bleeding hand. The corners of his lips twitch a couple of times, but otherwise he just looks at the hand, as if the blood doesn't belong to him. He has fallen silent now, an unsettling calm setting within the room though there is still an uncomfortable energy present. He lets Avex take his limp hand, letting her wrap it in the cloth if that's what she was planning on doing. Eventually he turns his stare back to the girl, fixing it upon her and just watching her with those strange eyes. "Thank you," he intones, halfheartedly. "Now I need to buy a new glass. That's unfortunate."
Averillix will be wrapping it, in a bit. For now, though, the girl starts to pick the pieces of glass out of Brendan's hand, careful as she can. The shards are then placed in her own hand, the woman wincing every so often as it digs into her own palm. "I'm sorry about the glass. And about your hand." That being said, after the glass is all removed, she starts to wrap up his hand, remaining silent. Each twist of the cloth is tighter on her other hand, more gentle on Brendan's own, until she's done wrapping his, having embedded the shards into her own.
Brendan looks back down to his hand as it is wrapped. "And the fact that you're leaving me," he replies, getting the general gist of why she came over. "I understand. You would think that I would be surprised, or sad even, but to be perfectly honest with you..." he pauses..."I saw this coming. The thing is, there wasn't anything I could do about it. I knew this day would come, I just continued to tell myself that it wouldn't be this soon." His voice is somewhat weary, though he still impressively keeps up the whole calm charade. "If you left anything here, feel free to take it with you. I most likely won't need whatever it is..." He feels the ache in his hand, but it feels positively exquisite compared to the one in his chest right now.
Averillix gives a soft little nod. She's still holding onto Brendan's hand as he speaks, and there are several moments where she just... pauses. Not moving to speak or anything, it's just a noticable pause in her features. Instead of saying anything more, though, she moves toward the kitchen. The faucet is audible, as is the opening and shutting of the garbage can and the tinkling of glass down into the bag. When she comes back, she continues to stand, staring at her feet. "I didn't leave anything here. You can keep the hat, though; I gave that to you." Pain is in the silver gunmetal gaze, but she won't cry again. Not yet.
Brendan's hand reaches down to touch the floor again, and with another flicker of light, the locks all slowly click open once again, the door swinging open with a soft creak. "Thank you," he replies. "The door's open, feel free to leave whenever you see fit." He pushes himself up to his feet, leaving the spilled drink on the floor, and he drifts over towards his room. He steps inside, pausing once to look back over his shoulder at Avex as she stands there. His eyes shimmer for a brief moment, before he quickly shoves the emotion back down to where it had been hiding. "Goodbye, Averillix..." The door closes behind him with a soft click...and then there is no sound from within, the only noises audible is are muffled steps from the floor above, and the occasional soft grumble.
A gamut of emotions runs through the girl, silver eyes indicating each one of them clearly, until Brendan shuts the door; then her eyes sharply turn white. The door to his room is stared at and, reaching into her bag and pulling out a short, rectangular object, she places it on the coffee table before turning and heading out the door, pulling it shut behind her. And the thing she left behind?
The cellphone he'd given her.
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