(1939-01-26) Divorce Before Marriage
Details for Divorce Before Marriage
Summary: Esther sends for Myrus to meet her. Nothing really goes as expected, and Myrus' darker side shows itself
Date: 1939-01-25
Location: First Floor unused classroom

Esther and Myrus simply haven't had time to talk. They keep missing eachother, until Esther finally has the common sense to send a Firstie. The note is simple. 'Meet me. 1F Classroom. ~Em.' It's VERY late in the evening, about 8pm, and Esther has moved all of the tables and chairs against the walls. The girl stands in the middle of the room, eyes closed, hands together, wand out and pointed down. Her bookbag is on a table behind her. The Hair doesn't look calm. Or poised. She looks a nervous wreck, from how her hands are trembling.

Myrus thought about ignoring it all together. Just not show up. His demeanor today wasn't that of a nervous wreck. At least outwardly. His words today and yesterday were of the calm, chipper viscious sort. If his heart wasn't breaking, his kindness already had.
But he at least gives in to his curiosity, to find out what it is she has to say. He at least plans on not saying anything at the moment, as he reaches the door to the classroom and opens it, stepping inside and closing it behind him, then turning to lean against the wall cooly to look at her, one hand in his pocket and the other hooking a thumb through his waistband and under his belt. He just looks at her, eyes moving down to her wand in her hands, then up to her again.

Esther does what she always does whenever she's caused offense. It's a safety thing. The wand is tossed lightly into Myrus' hands - There's little way he could miss it, with her keen eye. "We should talk." She finally admits, biting her lower lip. The nervous habit would probably leave her bleeding by the end of this conversation - Assuming her cousin hadn't. "I'd… Hoped to talk with you, before anyone - Seems like Everyone - Had." She admits, blushing faintly. She folds her hands together, over her stomach. It's a symbol, as many things are with her. Of submission? Perhaps.

Myrus reacts, catching it against his chest with one hand, and fumbling with it for a moment to hold it in front of himself by the casting tip. He looks at it for a moment, then to her. He tosses it back toward her, purposefully(?) at her feet. Or he just didn't care to have it, and discarded it towards her. Either way, it would clank on the floor and roll a little to stop against her foot.
Still, he remains silent as his other hand now shoves into the corresponding pocket as one foot now props up with bent knee so he can place the flat of his shoe against the wall behind him. Face showing he's waiting for her to speak, while not offering any verbage of his own.

Esther watches as her wand clatters to the floor, and leaves it there. A deep breath, as she tries to organise what she wanted to say. The carefully reasoned arguments that she's constructed, the feelings she wanted to get across, the outcomes she wanted to achieve. The girl opens her mouth, and absolutely nothing comes out. A pause, another deep breath, "Myrus, I…" Her voice dies on her again. The girl looks lost, fumbling as she tries to come up with anything to say, she instead tries to take a step forward, and begin a reasoned argument. The girl trembles when she touches the concrete again, unreadable grey eyes becoming a suddenly open book as they fill with tears. The half-choked sob comes a moment later, as Esther turns her head to the side, lifting a hand to cover her face.

The Lowe male just stands there, watching her. He got some dark satisfaction seeing her broken up about it, while at the same time it still pangs some little spark of guilt and pain to just grab her and hold her. But something tells him she wouldn't stay there if he did. Not within his own arms, anyway. Within someone's, yes. But not his.
He almost looks impatient, looking off to the side for a minute while she starts to break down into tears, like he could be doing better things at the moment. And so that little part of him he still had to choke down wouldn't bubble up to the surface and join her in the tearsoaked population of the room.

It takes a good thirty seconds before Esther recovers enough to speak. Still hiding behind hand, and hair, she whispers. "You.. You must think I hate you;" She barely whispers. "… You must hate me, for what I did." Although he still doesn't know the details, and she doesn't know what he knowns. "I… You have to know that I still love you, Myrus. Not one bit less…." Another sob, and a few seconds during which she can't speak, can barely breathe. "But… I was wrong. I was so wrong about how, and all I've done is ruin everything…" She shrinks a little, drawing into herself as she returns to keeping her face hidden, crying to herself softly. To her credit, she doesn't fall to the ground.

Myrus returns his look to her for just a moment, having to bite his tongue to keep from thinking about moving to hold her. Ah, the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He had to bite pretty hard. His hands leave his pockets, and he swallows the lump in his throat, and crosses his arms over his chest. His foot lets off of the wall, and moves to rest crossed at the lower leg over his other leg, a casual position. He still remains silent for now.

Esther doesn't know that he's not looking. She's not looking at anything, only noticing his silence… And taking it as encouragement to continue. "'Rus… you're closer to me than anyone's ever been. But… But we're too close to eachother. Too much like family. Too permissive. Too dependant…" Esther's soft sobs continues to break her sentences. The poor girl's heart is breaking. "I wanted it to be true, so badly…" She sighs. "…. You'd let me get away with anything, 'Rus, and I would've done horrible, horrible things knowing I'd always have forgiveness…" A pause. "Please… Please forgive me… I'm sorry I was so wrong…" She finally manages to stop herself from sobbing so pathetically, and looks up at him. Eyes bloodshot. Red rimmed. A little swollen. "'Rus… I miss my cousin…"

Myrus takes several moments to let all this sink in before he says anything. And when he finally does, he's looking pensively at the ceiling when he starts. "Esther. How nice of you to /ask/ for forgiveness now. And to say you could do anything and have forgiveness always. It's a bit ironic.. the one thing you do to me is the one unforgivable thing I ever could think of." He pushes off the wall, standing there and stepping halfway towards her now between her and the door. "Who?" In reference to the cousin bit. "Then why did you leave him? Oh, that's right.." He gives her a look of contempt as he drawls out those last three words with just a hint of poison on them, lowering them down to a whisper as well.

"I… I wish I'd been strong enough to say something." Esther whispers, finding his coldness… Terrifying. Exposing her heart, and having him so coldly shove her aside. It's hard to believe, with how… Aggressively she'd pursued their relationship. Although that might fit how much she /wanted/ it. The look hits her like a fist, tearing her gaze away from his face, but picking herself up again mentally afterwards. "I… I wish I could have. But… But I was so afraid of exactly this, 'Rus…" She bites her lower lip, inhaling slowly. "Just… Please… If you can't forgive me… Then take it out. Express yourself… Don't let it turn inwards." Biting harder, until she gasps a little in pain. "Please. Take it out on the person responsible. Just… 'Rus…" It's obvious, even from her scattered word, what she's asking him to do.

Control himself. Take out his anger with her. On her.
No wonder she gave up her wand.

He picks out something that catches his attention, and it makes him turn his head to the side a little, but keep his eyes on her as he leans forward just a little, as if to listen better like he didn't hear it the first time. "Afraid.. of exactly /what/?"
He straightens, whether she answers that or not, and follows it up after her suggestion that he take it out on her. "No," he says in a rather normal tone. As if someone just offered him a piece of cake, and he's kindly declining. No comment on it turning inward or anything related.

"You." Esther bites her lower lip. "This… Losing you." As more than a lover, evidentally. "I…" She's struggling, a soft whimper coming from her lips. Weak. Pathetic. She looks at Myrus, and then asks an incredibly simple question. "W… What are you going to do?"

"Ah," he exaggeratedly opens his mouth to say that, then closes it and turns a little. "If you'd simply told me you were unhappy while with me as.. whatever you might think we were, I'm not sure if it would have been any easier, so I can't blame that part on anyone. And what to do.. what to do~" he chimes, starting to pace in front of her, hands moving to behind his tailbone, clasping there as he paces for a few long moments before he speaks again.
"I'm not going to give you what you want. To take it out on you. Matter of fact.. I /want/ you to go back to him, this one you seemed to leave me for. WHoever it is. As at least one of us can have some solace in the fact we have made our beds. Time to lay down and sleep in them."

Esther can't deal with him a moment more. Pacing infront of her, being… What she can only call a monster, the same one that she'd spent her entire life trying to help him keep to. She finds her wand scrabbling around on the floor for it, pulling it close to her chest and clutching it tightly. Security. Safety. She sobs again, her eyes darting for the door. And then she follows it, brushing past him as the Hair makes for the exit.

Myrus' wand is out as she pushes past him, turning on his toes and pointing his wand at the door, "Colloportus," in a deafeningly calm command. *THUNK* The door locks… maybe, if she hadn't opened it already by that time.
At which point, he continues holding his wand in his hand, clasping his hands in front of him now, facing her and the door. "What I want to know, is /why/, Em." Tactical use of a nickname he had no business using right now. "What were you looking for, or stumbled upon, that you didn't think you had?"

If she wasn't afraid, she'd have her wand out, and the door unlocked with a simple charm and gone. If she wasn't afraid, she would have turned her wand on him. Instead, she tries to pull open the door anyway, and then shrinks backwards against it. "I… I wasn't looking… He found me…" She blushes, answering almost unconsciously. Still tearing up, still struggling for breath. "I told him I was spoken for… And he took me as a friend…" Her hand still on the handle as she whispers. "I… I wanted to feel safe… To feel like I wasn't replacing everything… To feel like I was wanted, more'n needed…. To feel like I could fail…" A pause. "I…. I wanted someone to think the best of me… Who didn't know all of the ugliness."

Myrus actually looks confused for a moment, lifting his hand, "I don't really see how that's better. Someone loves you knowing all of your flaws, and you feel better with someone who loves you and doesn't. You were wanted, Esther." A flick of his wrist, and the door unlocks against her back, and Myrus puts his wand away. "But, Irony is the flavor of the evening. Since now, you're not needed. I don't hate you, Esther."
A moment's pause, then he continues, returning to the detached persona he had at the beginning of this meeting, "I don't love you, either. I don't even know you." His calm, blank look at her was all he had left to look upon her with, waiting for her to either leave, fling herself at him, fall to the floor in tears, or just sit there stunned. He'd wait, at least until she cleared the way for him to leave the classroom.

Esther's sob is loud. Her heart is breaking, her cousin gone. The door clicks to release her, and she breaks out of it without a further thought of pause. She's hurt. Upset. And she's going to find a corner to cry in.

Myrus watches after her before she disappears out the door and out of sight a fraction of a moment after. His hands clasp behind his back as he exits the classroom, closing the door calmly behind him, and with a deep breath, he lets his hands go to swing freely at his sides as he strolls down the hallway, back towards the staircase and up to the fifth floor, to get a good night's sleep.
Or so he thought. Not a wink. But not for not being tired. He just.. stares at the ceiling above him calmly. Quietly. Eerily so..

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