okteiviakom | Lux, Los Angeles, Friday Morning

Entry tags:

Lux, Los Angeles, Friday Morning

Tonight, Lux was going to be packed and loud again, but this early on a Friday morning, the club wasn't only quiet but deserted. Which made it the perfect place for Octavia to sneak down to for her therapy. In previous weeks, she'd usually just gone out on Lucifer's balcony and kept her voice down for these Friday sessions that happened before neither Duke nor Lucifer tended to even be up yet, but this week...

This had seemed more right. Taking over the empty club, sitting at the grand piano with her phone.

Not that that had made her feel like she could be much more open with her therapist than she had in the last couple of weeks. Until this trip, she hadn't felt much reason to censor what she told Dr. Baker, but there was something about having to talk about God messing up your relationship that she didn't entirely want to get into. Not quite at that level, anyway.

In the end, in this particular session, she largely just ended up venting about love (sometimes it just feels like putting a name on things just makes it more complicated) and rejection (I swear he asked me that ten years ago, and now I'm right back here again) and loss (just feels like something's ending, and I should be able to stop it, but he just keeps looking at me like--).

And once her hour was up, she... stayed where she was. Closed the video chat app, opened a browser.

Looked up Portalocity.

Looked at portals to Fandom.

And wished for a vacation.

[ooc: Open for texts, calls, and those that are here if they so wish.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

". . . Okay, now you kind of sound like you're pissed at me too," Duke said, leaning back just a little, and giving her a small smile, in case he was misreading her completely.

Octavia sighed again. Looked towards the ceiling, then closed her eyes.

Closed them tight.

"I'm pissed at myself." Something like that, anyway.

"Ah." Duke twisted so he was facing her, and moved to settle his arms loosely around her waist. "You want to tell me about it?"

Octavia let her head fall forward a little. And when she opened her eyes, she watched her hand as it settled on his arm.

"There's not much to say," she muttered. "I don't know how to help him."

Didn't even know how to help herself with the feelings gnawing at her insides.

"Hm," Duke hummed. "I'm familiar with that feeling."

Usually with regards to her.

"I know."

That made it worse, somehow.

"And I feel like I should just -- know. I've been the problem enough times."

"As I recall, you usually have no idea how anyone can help you, either," Duke said. "So . . . well, maybe it's okay to not know. Just let him know you going to keep trying."

Octavia was pretty sure it wasn't okay not to know. Even if her certainty was largely backed up only by how much these past few weeks had worn her down.

"I don't even know if I've been trying," she muttered. "Seems I've just made him feel bad."

And was this distant thing you were doing right now helping that along any, Tavi?

Duke rested his head against hers and thought that over for a little bit.

"We spent a good chunk of the other morning in bed," he said, finally. "Luce and I. And all I've been doing is . . . stubbornly refusing to leave."

Oh. Was that an achy pang of jealousy she felt? Muddled, vague, but still there. Was that bad?

Octavia pushed it aside. Muttered, "I'm not like you."

She knew everything about leaving, very little about staying.

"Not saying you have to be," Duke said, giving her a little squeeze. "Just telling you something that seems to be working, so far."

"But I don't know how to do that."

Duke bit back the urge to ask if she'd tried. That was old, well-tread ground that he didn't want to head down again.

"Do you remember what I told you, this winter?" he asked instead. "After the whole sex pollen thing?"

Octavia's head finally tilted against his. "You said a lot of things," she muttered, "so you're gonna have to be a little more specific than that."

She also had soem pretty severe gaps in her memory around that time.

"You don't have to hold me -- or him -- up," Duke said. "Or together, or whatever you're thinking. Sometimes, all we need is for you to just hold us."

Octavia exhaled a noise that wasn't a laugh, because there was nothing amused about it.

"That's the problem."

Trying to hold him at all.

"Then we'll start there," Duke said. He resettled his arms around her, as though he could show her by example how this worked. "What's making it hard?"

Long, helpless sigh.

"Duke, I already did therapy today."

It wasn't the most forceful objection she'd ever given, though.

Duke sat up, lifting his head off hers, but didn't let go of her waist. "Okay, fine," he said, teasing. "I won't try to help then."

Octavia immediately missed the weight of his head, so maybe that hadn't been his best move. Or the teasing itself, either.

A 'please, don't' was right at the tip of her tongue, but somehow she managed to swallow it down.

"Remember how I used to be the one who got Lucifer?"

"I do," Duke said. He remembered all too well the feeling of being the odd one out.

"And how you wanted in on that?" Octavia added, looking away again, towards the bar. "Well, congratulations, you've made it."

And surpassed her, it seemed.

"Or maybe there's more than one part of Lucifer to 'get'," Duke said. "And we each found different pieces."

"Well, I feel like I've lost most of mine," Octavia said with a tiny huff that held no joy. "Or like -- maybe Lucifer's dad put them all in a box somewhere."

"Hm. Maybe," Duke said. "Luce's dad definitely sucks enough to do something like that."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject