Did I Ever Tell You [Reida, Alastair]

"Any time ya need me, just call n' I'll come. Unless I'm workin', of course, but if it's at the office I still might try'n slip away."

Contrary to her cheerful demeanor about all this, however, Reida was not nearly so oblivious as she let on. She wasn't some innocent schoolgirl who had never known the touch of a man, and she felt the squeeze that Alastair offered her when she took his hand in hers. On some level, she knew what that meant, but she didn't quite know how to acknowledge it.

She didn't actually want to let go, though. So she simply held his hand, studying him for a moment. Her single eye was focused, looking into Alastair's gaze as if she were seeking an explanation. Not for his own actions, but for how she'd handled them.

And then, after a moment, she released his hand. With hesitation, and indecision, as she turned her attention to the food she'd brought.

"C'mon, eat up!"

There was more she wanted to say. Well, no, that wasn't accurate. She didn't want to say any of it. She wanted to run away from it, really, but that in itself just irritated her. Both because she thought she was stronger than this, and because she knew Alastair could read her all too well.

"Do I even need to say that I'd do the same for you at this point?"

Alastair could have stayed there holding Reida's hand for a while longer, it was the barrier between him and confronting the voice in his head that was pleading with him to explain why he was doing this. He was rather focused on her though, gauging her as they continued to hold on. Wondering if either would try to do anything more or just continue to persevere.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. His hand hung there for a moment longer as hers retreated before he clenched it into a balled first and brought it back to his side.

He could tell there was more she wanted to say. He knew there was more he wanted to say. But he could not bring himself to force it out of her. Not this time. He had been selfless then, now it was selfish and thus it was impure. She meant more to him than that, so she was certainly not a toy to play with whenever he wanted. If he was seriously going to do something so painfully stupid because he could not control his heart then he owed it to her to make sure that she was never going to be an afterthought.

That inner revelation hurt. It was going to hurt a lot more. And he would have to burden Reida with it sooner or later.

Maybe Reida should've just said nothing. Maybe even laughed off what he said, kept it nice and friendly. But she couldn't. Wasn't right, wasn't honest. She looked to the whiskey that she kept at her side, clearly ready to lean on it as a crutch. But she wanted to try, at least, to not rely on it.

"I... I guess not."

She bit her lip, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but certainly with a tense air that made clear how conflicted she was. Reida wasn't a woman that liked stepping around issues. If they were in front of her, she dealt with them easy as that. But this was different. It was personal. And it was something so much harder than just putting a gun to someone's head and making them talk.

"Alastair, you're...a good guy. Your girlfriend's one lucky lady. I'm sure people tell ya that all the time. I don't think many people would put up with me like ya do, listen to all the complainin' and cryin' and that. I just... I dunno."

That was as far as she made it before she had to lean on the liquor to help her, and she gulped down more whiskey than most could even stomach in only a few short seconds. It hadn't helped much, but it was enough, and she spoke again with at least the liquid courage to back her up.

"I joined the Vandenreich to work. To get revenge and work 'til I dropped. So I could get back at everyone who did me wrong. So why in the hell is this what I wanna do? Why'm I spendin' my time thinkin' about you n' me, about our breakfasts, about our walks at night? I'm not--"

More liquor. Not just to get all the braver, but to cover up the fact that her words had caught in her throat. She was far too proud to admit that she'd had trouble saying all this, even if it was to him. No, it was because it was him.

"I'm not ready to move on. So why'm I doing it anyway?"

He looked down at the plate of food before him, knowing full well that he had been craving it for days once the anticipation had set in, and felt a knot in his stomach tighten. It was good food, certainly, Reida was a fine chef when she wanted to be, but that was not why he had been looking forward to this. Only seeing it now, hearing her choke back those words with liquor, could he glimpse the truth of it. Like a dagger to his heart, he tried to comprehend exactly what it meant that he had been waiting just to see her.

If she was going to bare her heart to him, though, then his hand was forced. There had been a window where he could have left it all unanswered and done what he needed to, but there was no time for that now. She wanted answers and he had them.

"I just wanted to help. You were hurting, so if I could shoulder even the smallest amount of that burden then it would lift you up just a little. Because I liked that woman who smiled and laughed and told me everything was going to be alright, even when something was eating her up inside."

That much was certainly true. He had gone into this with the best of intentions, of helping a wounded soldier move on, and wanted nothing in return. She was a widow with a past so black that it had threatened to drag him under just by proximity, how could he have ever expected it to become something more than that?

His throat was dry, every word like sandpaper now and yet he forced them out anyway. There was liquor right there, certainly, but that was not how he intended to cope with this. It needed to be raw, every word cutting into him as that dagger continued to twist, as there was no running from this. Tears welled in eyes that tried their best to shine.

"Sophie is not lucky. Because I am not a good man. Because I find myself wanting another when it is not right or just. She has done me no wrong, not hurt me in any way, and yet I have failed her utterly."

God damn it.

God, damn it.

That wasn't what she'd wanted to hear from him. Reida had wanted him to just tell her he couldn't feel that way, tell her that he was a taken man, with a lovely girl. She could have accepted that, could have gone home, drowned her sorrows, said her prayers and moved on like nothing ever happened. But all that was too much.

"It ain't the end of the world, just...wantin' someone. It happens. I know you ain't a God fearin' man, but it's just a sin like any other. Ya just...ask forgiveness. Move on. Don't dwell on it."

She didn't want him to dwell on it. Didn't want him to dwell on her. Because she did want him in her life, and that thought only made her feel worse with every passing moment that the two of them shared. His eyes carried such emotion, such passion and earnest regret. But Reida's single eye, by contrast, was still bitter, still cold. She didn't want to drag him down with her.

"You are a good man, Alastair. And Sophie is a lucky woman. You're the kind of guy that'll beat yourself up for one mistake, do everything he can ta fix it. That's somethin' admirable."

Her fingers curled around the neck of the liquor bottle, but she couldn't bring it to her lips. It just felt so empty. She knew it wouldn't help with this. Wouldn't help her feel any better. She wanted to go. Wanted to run away from here, find somewhere else and just return to living for nothing but her work.

"I don't want ya to suffer over somethin' like this. Not for a second."

"I am always fixing things, that is why I joined the Vandenreich, and I have no intention of stopping even now. I could squash this down, burn it out of me like an impurity, but that will not fix me..."

"Because this is the first mistake I do not want to fix."

And there it was. The point of no return. The admittance to himself, and Reida by extension, that he did not want to just turn a corner and pretend this was not happening. That even if they left things as they were right now, Alastair had made up his mind. It was enough to make him almost choke.

"Because I want you. Reida. Even if I have to make other people suffer for it. For that, I can no longer be a good man. No matter how much I atone or ask forgiveness, I will know that there is a limit that I cannot surpass."

Maybe she would leave, maybe she should, but there it was. His selfish desires brought to light. He was far from a monster, nor a villain, but he did feel that ping in his chest. A black spot at his core, because he wanted so desperately to wrap his fingers around Reida's once more and go back to staring fondly at her.

What a fool he was. A stupid fool. Throwing away that which he had because he knew that they deserved better than him, and, in the same beat, wondering if another has the capacity to accept him for his flaws.

His honesty was enough that it almost made Reida sick. She hated hearing it, hated hearing him say those words that she'd expected never to hear for the rest of her life. Hell, she'd gotten used to just knowing she wouldn't. But now, she was sitting here at the breakfast table, hearing such genuine words from a man she knew how much she cared about.

"I've made a lotta people suffer. Done a lot that I'm not so sure God'll ever forgive me for. I'm still holdin' out, though, hopin' maybe one day it'll be enough to make me a good person again."

She was distracting herself by speaking such idle, supportive words. They weren't what he needed to hear. They weren't what she wanted to say. But she knew exactly how much a relationship meant, knew what she was stepping into, knew what she was taking away from someone else. And she hated that. She hated herself for it. But that wasn't enough to drown out the one thought that wouldn't leave Reida's mind.

She deserved to be happy too, damn it.

"We can hold out together. Not good people, not bad people, just...people."

Her fingers left the bottle of whiskey, settling on the table now. She didn't need that to support her in this, and she slowly, surely, reached out to take his hand in hers again. Yeah, this was something wrong. This was something she'd have to ask forgiveness for, she knew that. But she'd spent the last years miserable, and she wasn't going to give up this single bright spot no matter how wrong it might've been.

She didn't flee from him. Didn't turn away and tell him that this was not what she wanted. And maybe that was one of the reasons why he was here, because she knew he was hurt and that he could not run from it. He had told her as much when they had first met, and he had dedicated himself to helping her overcome that feeling of wanting to run from the pain, but seeing it in action was just another reason to break down. Because this felt right and it did not deserve to be.

"I can do just people. But do not think I will ever stop trying to make you feel better, no matter where this road leads."

Then her hand was back in his own, and he turned to face her directly. Any thoughts of breakfast were nonexistent right now. Only Reida. The tears dried, having never truly flowed though a few rogue droplets still stained down his cheeks, and his grip tightened, a quick pulse before it settled into something natural.

He should probably have been thinking about Sophie, in some capacity, even if it was not in the way that she truly deserved anymore, but she was not there right now. The dying embers of a better man had hidden her away from this, a final courtesy to shield them from being tainted by failure.

"So stay close to me and maybe we can fix the rest together."

"And I hope you know I ain't planning on stopping for you, either."

She offered him a faint smile, weak but genuine. Reida knew how awful this all was. She knew what a terrible human being she was for allowing this, for pushing it, for being happy about it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not in any real genuine way, at least.

"I ain't goin' anywhere any time soon."

She stood from her chair, and for a moment, she really, genuinely thought about kissing him. Longer than a moment, honestly. But Reida didn't think that would be right, and she knew that this had all already been too exhausting. But what she could do was move to wrap her arms around him, give him those faint remains of the warm, loving woman she had been once upon a time. An embrace was enough.

The worst part of this was that Alastair genuinely thought he should feel worse. Not that he felt good, by any stretch of the word, but this was genuinely quite far from the lowest he had ever felt. There was no helplessness, no futility, it was just a grim sense of discomfort mixed together with the shame of failing in his principles. He had imagined this very scenario in his head, which was another of the many reasons that this had come into reality, and even the thought had broken him then. But now? Whilst he was living it? There was this guilty thought in the back of his mind that dared to say it could see light at the end of the tunnel.

He watched her stand, orange eyes gazing upward now and peering into her very being as he felt that connection with her internal struggle. What could they hide from each other now after all that had been shared before?

Don't.

He understood it, of course, for the thought was racing through his own brain even as this occurred, but it was not right. They had both affirmed that they wanted this, but that did not mean he was ready for it. They had time yet. Its existence alone attainted him, but he would not sully Sophie's name with anything more than that. He owed her so much more, but that was all that could be offered in this moment.

And then her arms were wrapped around him, and he was wrapping around her. Well, his one arm was whilst the other had managed to get clear. And with his engagement came that all too familiar heat from his end too. It was not the first time the pair had embraced, and this one did not feel much different from those other times. They were there to comfort each other, to lean on when times got tough, to let each other know that things were not as bad as they felt.

"I.. I need to talk to Sophie. She deserves better, but she needs to know too."

What happened after he had spoken to Sophie though? Well. There was a bottle of Whiskey in his cupboard that needed to be taken care of, now that he was no longer a good man.