"Christ, Cait! Why can't you just compromise with me this one time?" Vi huffed, pacing a circle around the room. Her arms were tossed out in front of her, eyes stormy and irritated.
Caitlyn, however, stood motionless. Her sides were clenched, the fabric of her charcoal tunic strained over her lower back. Fingers, long and stiff, were curled and pressing into the skin and cloth sidelining her ribs. The gesture was currently unnoticed by Vi, but if her wife noticed, she'd surely be lectured. This argument was childish and slightly petulant, but she wouldn't budge.
"Right, right, I forgot. You're the only one who gets to make compromises, while I just gotta go along with whatever the hell you want! God, it's a single goddamn night out! Is it so awful to want my wife to come with me?" Caitlyn's jaw was set tight and her teeth began to ache, but she stood her ground. The night out in question was an open invite from some coworkers at the enforcer firm.
When Vi put in for her job, she immediately found a way to fit in in the office. There was laughing even during atrocious, agonizing paperwork. There were animated stories narrated over lunch. Staff left with smiles on their faces, with new stories to recount when they arrived home. It was no surprise that she clicked into place so well. She had a way with her humor to redirect the prejudice against her and show everyone that she was worth working with. Now, a night at the bar probably sounded pretty good to Vi. Some carefree drinks with friends? Caitlyn saw the appeal. Her wife had never been in a safe enough position to indulge in such luxuries. However, that wasn't her experience...
Caitlyn sat on the floor at the foot her bed, shoulders shaking. Her binder, papers, textbooks were strewn about in front of her, messily organized as she had been attempting to study. She watched with blurry vision as the laminated-quality of the chemistry page caused her tears to form perfect little droplets over chapter six, lower lip pursed and trembling.
She shouldn't feel this way, she knows that. But god, her heart is racing and she feels so sad she's sick. A day like any other was enough to wreck her if she let it. Pairing up in lessons was the worst. She knew everyone preferred getting to pick your partner, who didn't want to work with their best friend? Save for caitlyn, who didn't have any friends. Then it was the worst, that cool dread settling in her stomach. Dread, because she knew the second those words were uttered, she'd be the odd one out, the misfit, and everyone would see it.
It was embarrassing enough for everyone to think of her as the stuck-up know-it-all Kiramman girl. Another was everyone witnessing how she was also the lonely, unsociable Kiramman girl. Every morning, she promised herself it'd be different. She could just get involved, could just...flow with others. Smile like she'd practiced, offer helpful advice, at the very least be a good listener. But every time, her throat seemed to seize up and she shut down. To hide that, she turned to what she knew. Pure logical, straight to the point thinking. E=MC2, a circle was always 3.14, a negative multiplied with a positive would always result in a negative. People rarely responded conversationally to that.
She longed for a friend, but when all odds pushed her into solitude, it was an easy place to reside. But she'd tried. She'd tried her damndest and over and over she'd failed. Caitlyn wasn't unlikable, not at her core...was she? She was kind. She could be extremely empathetic. She was smart, and dedicated. So why didn't any of that translate across? Why did she become a robot at parties, responding with forced smiles and nods, hiding sobs in her throat. Why did she lose her sense of humor in a group? A laugh hiding deep in her gut, dissolved and churning. Unformed.
Her she pushed away her books harshly with her foot, hands gripping her forehead harshly. If she just squeezed and squeezed, maybe it'd relieve some tension. When that proved useless, she tried breathing. In and out, in and out, but it only relaxed her diaphragm enough to release caged, gasping sobs. She was not a robot. She felt things. She was funny, and she was considerate, and she was adventurous. A creature of habit maybe, but a dependable person nonetheless. Consistency was a virtue, after all.
None of this seemed to matter, though. A strangled whimper escapes her, and her fingernails dig into her thighs with the effort to hold back another sob. She was alone, she was always alone. The effort she put in socially was coming crashing back into her in the form of exhaustion. She was tired, she was dejected. Caitlyn pulled back her messy navy hair into a ponytail, and then hurriedly cinched it into a bun when she felt the dangling hair tickle the nape of her neck uncomfortably. Why was she like this? Why couldn't she make it like others could? Why wasn't she liked, or understood? Why was she so fucking tired from simply trudging through six periods of school subjects that come easily to her?
Sharply sniffling, she stood and slipped into her connecting bathroom. Her face was red, cheeks damp and streaked, faint red marks over her thighs and forehead. Caitlyn wiped her face, blew her nose, and got to tidying her school supplies. The mess only made her more upset. In that moment, she figured something important out; she was better alone. What was the point of wanting something she would be unhappy with having? She didn't see one.
The memory of her...lonesome upbringing made her fingers dig deeper into her flesh, teeth grit. Vi didn't understand. She didn't know what went on in Caitlyn's brain, she didn't struggle the same way. No one seemed to. She might seem cold or detached, antisocial, hell, even stuck-up. That was fine. She'd lived with those assumptions her entire life, and she'd continue on with them. It wasn't like her behavior disproved any of it. There were so many things she wanted her wife to know. How she felt, how deeply she struggled, how much she wished to go out and get a drink and be as happy about it as Vi was. But Caitlyn didn't have friends outside of Jayce. And she was an adult, it wasn't like she could meet someone in a lesson, bike over to their house in the afternoons, talk about celebrities or whatever regular teenagers did. She was who she was, and as she'd been reminded by many, she was rather unique.
"You may go on your own" Caitlyn said, voice cold and even. She didn't have the drive to be as passionately annoyed as Vi did. She was angry enough to feel it climbing up her throat, yes, pounding at the inside of her ribs, pooling in her limbs and hardening there. Immobile, too upset to talk freely. Caitlyn was restrained and calculated, as she always should be. Hiding behind a mask, manipulating this god forsaken manikin that wore her face. She was used to constructing herself, down to the very last detail. "I have previous responsibilities to attend to"
Her wife's scoff was about as frustrated as they got. "It has been a hard as shit week, and I don't want to unwind without you. Is that so bad? You could actually have fun! We are married now, you know. You're legally stuck with me" She joked, although it was rather strained. Caitlyn could see she was exasperated, and confused as to why she wasn't complying. "I barely get to see you anymore, Cupcake. And I see you about as often as a mirage in your fuckin' office. C'mon, Cait, please. We don't gotta stay long, I don't see why it's such an issue"
Caitlyn's jaw tightened, gums aching. She shut her eyes and sucked in a heavy breath, hands dropping from her side to instead tug on her belt loops. She felt that anger rising again, making her head light of any judgement and heavy with the craving to hurt. To let all the tension free, to scream her issues until the walls shook. She was so close to letting go. So close to popping at the seams.
"Violet, crowds and drunken nights are your idea of fun" She snaps, even if she doesn't mean it so harshly. "I do not share in that enjoyment. We've wasted enough time bickering about this. You claim to know me, and yet you failed to anticipate my reluctance? I find that difficult to believe" Her piercing blue eyes are guarded and accusing, arms locking back over her chest. That only seemed to spur Vi on, though.
"You don't even try! Maybe you'd actually be friends with a few of our coworkers if you actually gave things like this a chance" She admonished, throwing her hands up yet again. Caitlyn noted that she was very physically expressive with her arms when upset. It matched her personality well enough, after all. Her anger was always shone. A trait she was rather jealous of.
"I found comfort in my isolation, Violet. You were the exception, don't you understand? I do not let loose in crowds, I lock up. I am not myself with others" Caitlyn supplied, but her jaw was falling slack and there was a quiver in her breath. Her eyes fell a bit. "I'm tired, Vi. So tired. You may not understand my sociability, understand that. I-I cannot do what you're asking of me"
She cursed the shake in her tone. A sign of weakness, but also a sign of resignation. She was too late in life to still be grieving her loss of friends. Too old to still try for a social life. Vi's anger and frustration seemed to leak out of her all at once, like a deflating balloon. Those wide ray eyes softened, and her previously flailing arms arrested to her sides again. It was strange to see only a few shaken words from her could drain her wife of her fight.
She sighed, and stalked a few steps closer. V truly seemed apologetic. "I-...alright. M'sorry, Cait. I just wanted you to take the opportunity, ya know? Thought you could use a break.." She seemed almost remorseful, and she wrapped her arms around Caitlyn's waist, burying her head in her chest. Her Violet, forever passionate, and predictably soft. Slowly, her fight drained the rest of the way out as well, and she rubbed her wife's back.
"Its alright, darling, truly. But you have a habit of pushing. I need you to trust my word"
"I do trust you. I just don't always agree, yeah. I just- you have a habit of closing yourself off. I wanted you to give it a shot"
It was Caitlyn's turn to sigh. "I'm aware. But please, do not debate me on my antisocial tendencies. They are often intentional and well-deserved" She feels her face shift into the crook of her neck, and she cups the back of her head, fingers threading through red unruly locks.
"...you're really happier here with me then out with me?"
"Yes, love" Caitlyn stroked her back, lulling her into relaxation, coming down after the fight.
"M'stayin' home with you, then. You owe me at least a ten-minute makeout" She chuckled softly, mostly for Vi's benefit.
"Do I now?"
"Oh, hell yes, definitely"
As a child, she thought she'd always be alone. Maybe she'd always feel a bit alone, but she wasn't anymore. That comfort in isolation now sprouted from their connected bodies and minds alike. There was no crying after school, sobbing over binders, scratches on her legs. No group projects or academy rumors.
Life was only what she made of it now. And she intended to make it better than she'd thought as a child.
That was a promise.