Octavia Blake (
okteiviakom) wrote2025-07-02 02:02 pm
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Lucifer's Condo, LA, Wednesday
For all that Octavia, Duke and Lucifer were in Los Angeles under a looming sense of foreboding like time was about to run out, there also seemed to be nothing but time. Octavia was doing her best to adjust, to build new routines away from the island. Going back to the ship to take care of her plants, finding hiking trails she liked (whenever the weather didn't feel like it was out to kill her), trying to -- just trying to stay busy. Keep active.
But some days the body felt like it needed to rest. And sometimes Octavia even gave into that instead of pushing forward. Today was one of those, so she was reading a book in Lucifer's living room, her back against the floor and her feet up on the couch.
Well, she was pretending to read, anyway.
See, there were downsides to letting herself be still - like how much louder it made all kinds of thoughts she'd been ignoring and repressing and holding back. Thoughts about things like Heaven, and Hell, and how it was July 2nd again and she didn't even know if Bellamy was alive like her or dead like their mother.
(Where was their mother?)
There was a certain kind of loneliness that didn't touch her often, but when it did, it hurt.
But at least she was holding her book the correct way up?
[ooc: NFB for distance, but open for all the usual.]
But some days the body felt like it needed to rest. And sometimes Octavia even gave into that instead of pushing forward. Today was one of those, so she was reading a book in Lucifer's living room, her back against the floor and her feet up on the couch.
Well, she was pretending to read, anyway.
See, there were downsides to letting herself be still - like how much louder it made all kinds of thoughts she'd been ignoring and repressing and holding back. Thoughts about things like Heaven, and Hell, and how it was July 2nd again and she didn't even know if Bellamy was alive like her or dead like their mother.
(Where was their mother?)
There was a certain kind of loneliness that didn't touch her often, but when it did, it hurt.
But at least she was holding her book the correct way up?
[ooc: NFB for distance, but open for all the usual.]
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"Well, we haven't negotiated about that very often at all."
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She paused everything she was doing right then, though.
"... Would you?"
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"What do you mean?"
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"Okay," she murmured, with a tiny nod. "I wasn't trying to imply you didn't do all that, when I said you'd have to think about it. I mean, in case it sounded like I did."
Just making sure. She was a little cautious around some subjects, these days.
"I was just... stating the obvious."
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What? The intrusive thoughts liked to report back events of his life with wild misinterpretations. Squirrels!
“I will think about it. And let you know when I feel ready. And if you for whatever reason don’t end up also feeling ready just then? That’s absolutely okay.”
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Bit on her lip, hesitated.
"Just, can I ask...? Why did you ask me if I would like to?"
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"I don't know if I want to be a challenge," she admitted.
Knowing full well that she was one, often, in worse ways than what he was actually talking about.
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He shifted to drop a kiss on her nose.
"So there."
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"You're trying to tell me a good thing," she murmured. "I'm sorry." Guess the maudlin was still clinging onto her.
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Weird what thinking about the afterlife and guilt and family all mixed in together could do to a person, huh.
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