okteiviakom | The Deck of the Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Friday Afternoon

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The Deck of the Cape Rouge, Port of Fandom, Friday Afternoon

Octavia knew there was a Parents Weekend thing happening in town right now. She was still undecided on whether she wanted to put in an appearance, because on one hand, last year's had led to some bad times for her. On the other... There was some small part of her that hoped, no matter how foolishly, that maybe Gloria would somehow show up.

(There was just so much she wanted to tell her. And so much fear that she would never get to.)

So far, for her trek through town after her usual Friday routine of therapy and swimming out in New York, she had steered clear of the park. She had a big bag from a shoe store to get home, anyway. See, there'd been some talk of those early days on the Ground in her session today, and then she'd taken a slightly different route from her usual in getting to the portal place, and she'd seen the boots in a store window, and, well. She'd never been able to resist a good symbol. Especially one as personal as this, appearing at just the right time for it to feel a little like something else than just pure coincidence.

(Even with how mired in complications that thought was for her, these days. For reasons she had still not discussed with Dr. Baker at all.)

And even as she stepped aboard the Rouge, she was still wondering whether she should've just taken her purchase on the Samsara instead, and buried them in her closet. The urge to share and the urge to keep it to herself felt equal.

Maybe she'd shove them in a closet here, instead.

[ooc: Open, though slow.]

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"Yes," Octavia agreed, something hardening in her expression a little. "Yes, it was."

"I thought we'd . . . handled all that."

"I can see that."

And it was somehow even more upsetting. That he could fling the idea of her feeling threatened in her face and still think any of this had been handled when it had been fresh.

"But we didn't." Yeah, he'd probably figured that out by now, Tavi. "And some of that's on me, I know. I didn't talk about it. But I was also convinced you were gonna figure out you deserved someone better --"

And deep down, she still wasn't convinced he didn't deserve someone better.

"-- so I wasn't going to go digging around something that might prove me right. And do you remember the things you told me once we actually talked about it?"

"Not . . . off the top of my head," Duke muttered.

He was still tempted to throw himself off the side of the boat, yeah. To just -- get away from this conversation, because no matter what Linda had said, he felt like he was inches from sending the jenga tower of their relationship toppling down.

"You made it sound like not wanting to be monogamous was just about you missing sleeping with guys."

Yeah. There was that.

"Ah." Duke nodded. Shoved his hand into his hair again. "Right. Well. Not sure if you've noticed this, but I have this tendency to try to . . . underplay things. To make them, I don't know, easier for other people to swallow."

Like turning around and telling Lucifer that he was cool if they kept it casual, and accidentally mixing signals like crazy until Lucifer thought he was going nuts.

"You lied to me."

It didn't sound accusatory. Just factual. Because he had, in his quest to soften the blow.

"And I believed you."

"I think . . . I was lying to myself, too."

Octavia shrugged. Yeah, probably. "That's why it hurts so much."

That was remarkably even for something that had so much emotion behind it.

"I don't know why I'm built . . . this way," Duke said. Barely managing not to say he was built wrong. "And I'm sorry that it hurts you. That -- I hurt you."

It didn't feel as good to have that acknowledged as Octavia might have hoped.

She finally let her gaze droop to her lap, and shook her head.

"You know, I'd even gotten her a birthday present," she said, quieter. "By the time I could've actually given it to her, after all the chameleon bullshit, I didn't want to anymore."

"My shit isn't her fault," Duke said softly. "She doesn't --"

That was a lie. Duke stopped himself before he even started, and made himself look at Octavia.

"We maybe could have been something. In some other universe, where I didn't have you and Luce. But I do. And she's in love with Nathan. And none of this has ever been about you not being 'enough'."

"I really wish you wouldn't keep saying that about her and Nathan like it's supposed to be reassuring," Octavia admitted in a mutter, looking away again. "If the rest is true, it shouldn't even factor into anything. It shouldn't matter."

She wasn't proud of feeling like that rubbed her the wrong way, no. But she was trying to be honest here.

(Felt like this might be her only chance to be that about this.)

Duke winced, looking away. At the water. Down at his hands. Wondered how any of this was supposed to make either of them healthier.

"In a perfect world, I wish I could have all four of you. But we both know that's not the world we live in. Any of the worlds we live in."

Maybe through making them actually face some things that had been left to fester for a full year.

"And in this imperfect world," Octavia muttered, "you just have me and him." She looked down at her feet, saw the bag again.

The sign the boots had seemed like this morning was feeling a little more like a cruel joke, right now.

"In this world, I'm lucky enough to have you two," Duke said. "I wouldn't trade that for anything. Not at risk of losing you."

Octavia didn't look up, though she wasn't looking at much of anything as it was. Her field of vision was just a tad blurry.

"I wish I could've just given you what you needed," she said, after a long pause, after swallowing down several things. "I understand that it hurts, the -- entire Haven thing."

"One of the things we've talked about in therapy," Duke said, "is that . . . I have absolutely no idea what I need. So how are you supposed to give me something when I can't even tell you what it is?"

"You needed me to listen to you talk about how you feel," Octavia pointed out, softly, though without looking at him. "And I'm sorry I can't do that when it's about her."

"Neither can Luce." Duke sat up, leaning back with a long drawn out sigh. "Pretty sure not for the same reasons, though. So I just. Kept. Not saying anything. About any of it."

Octavia was pretty sure her and Lucifer's reasons weren't that different. Her anger at Audrey had nothing to do with any flirting, after all.

It didn't felt productive to point that out right now, though. "I'm sorry," she said instead. "I want to support you."

"Do you?" Duke asked, before he could second-guess himself. "Or do you just want me to be supported? I know I've felt like too much to you before. You've told me as much."

"Both," Octavia said without hesitation, finally looking over again.

With a tiny frown.

“I worry about being too much for you,” Duke said. “All the time. About not . . . living up to your expectations for me.”

The frown deepened a little.

"Why?"

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