All my Life to Live [Giselle, Candice]

It was a serene moment, as Candi found herself suddenly bundled up against Giselle’s body and smothered with a caring embrace. It wasn’t like she was exactly sweaty or anything, a little disheveled perhaps but even her on a bad day still eclipsed most people’s good days, but there was still a certain air of displeasure that the Heiress almost naturally exuded. That was what made her so intimidating to the masses, gave an unnerving chill to those that engaged her in conversation that she did not enjoy, or attempted to hug her when the road to recovery was still being so tenderly tiptoed along.

Candi burst upwards in a flurry, the drink she had been given tumbling out from her legs and unceremoniously crashing to the floor, and rebuffed the other woman’s advances with a sobering frown. Standing there, meeting eye-to-eye, Candice was more like a startled kitten than a wounded beast but by her gaze it was clear that she intended to be the latter.

“She’s not why I’m mad. She’s not the reason I’ve been sulking all this time.” Well, she was, but not quite in the obvious way. “It’s that I’m meant to be super duper important to you but the second I’m not around you’re off playing house with someone else. And I’m only hearing of this because I happened to get you both in the same room. I get it, we’re both terrible people that don’t really go in for this whole commitment shtick too much, but that doesn’t mean I like you keeping secrets from me. I’m plenty fucked up, but I wore my everything on my fucking sleeve for you since the first day we met.”

“You could have been fucking her too and it’d have been way less of a big deal if you had just told me about it. Because you know what makes all of this real to me? The thought that we could be truly honest with each other. That even if we were fucking shit people, we had each other through thick and thin.”

There was real vitriol behind her ironic words, the delusions of a woman who both knew very well what she was and also expertly gaslighted the world around her to better suit her every whim. Broken didn’t quite begin to encapsulate it, and yet that was Candice’s truth. She was a mess of emotions and apathy, of loyalty and depravity, and her goalposts would never remain in one place.

“So if you were looking for some love expert to coach you through it then you couldn’t be further adrift, hun.”

Capitulation was usually preferable when it came to resolving any matter with Candice. She would get her way and you would like it. Those were the options, no quarter was given and no compromise worth settling for. Often times this was because she was, quite simply, right but sometimes it was her pride blinding her to the obvious in favour of just proving a point. Her point. And if you tried to explain that to her then she would chomp off your head for daring to assume such a thing. Yet, quite strangely, she found herself irritated that Giselle’s first reaction was to throw up her hands in faux surrender. Had that been the end of it then it would have been the end of everything, of that she was certain, but the other woman had found her spark so perhaps there was still a spark. That or Candice wanted to throw some more dirt before it was over.

“A little irritating? Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that my words were such an inconvenience to you.” She held her ground unflinchingly, staring down those blood red eyes without a hint of doubt. “But it’s not like either of you talked about this before. You’d think it would be a funny little anecdote to try to lighten the mood of the woman worried sick that her partner might be dying. Something to take the edge off, maybe? Hell, maybe you were worried for some inane reason that I might overreact so kept it a secret till you got out? But no, little miss Candice has to find out on her own time like an afterthought.”

There was another huff as she continued to pick at that single loose thread, but perhaps that was because she didn’t want to confront the bulk of what was being said. That it was easier to imagine a world where this had all been some grand conspiracy to betray her than one where Giselle truly and deeply cared for her. That was something, wasn’t it? The weight of a heart as it rested in her hands, beating away with an impressive tenacity. No small part of her wanted to squash it and see what it did next, to watch her squirm and writhe, yet her words caught in the back of her throat. Her brow furrowed, the agitation setting in as she battled internally over how to proceed.

“I just want to know where I am in your priorities.” She blurted it out like another accusation, though her cheeks flushed pink with colour. “Because I won’t settle for half measures and neither should you.”

Love. That was what it boiled down to didn’t it? Giselle loved her, and that should be enough to make her happy and wash away these problems that had bubbled their way up to the surface. But people had told Candi that they loved her before, and it hadn’t stuck. Ehefra was just the most recent culprit of that crime, at least Candice had decided that she was - for if it was not love then she certainly wouldn’t have done it out of fear. So did she love Giselle back? And did that matter?

“Then why can’t I feel it?” She paused again, her words hanging there as awkwardly as she did, before those shoulders finally gave way to slouching. “Why does it feel like I got left out to dry for weeks on end and now you’re trying to flip me over with a smoothie and some nice words? Would you rather I just bend over and bow my head at that or ball my eyes out like a baby?”

It was her turn to advance now, not throwing herself at Giselle but certainly walking her down. If the other woman didn’t hastily retreat then she would soon find Candi all up in their personal space. The tone shifted like a pendulum, her fragile moods clearly in no better state than they had been before all this.

“I’m a fucking mess, Z. Though I suppose that is hardly a surprise. But You want me despite all the faults and the headaches, and I can’t figure out why. What did I really do besides constantly try to screw everything up and tell you it was going to be ok? I guess I just can’t do the mathematics.”

There it was, her limit. It hadn’t really taken that long to get her there, perhaps the timing had been well orchestrated but it didn’t really matter about timings anymore.

“So yes, I love you. But right now I don’t know why anyone would love me back.”

Tears welled in those big, green eyes. Candi was angry, sad, shaken up and altogether vulnerable. Perhaps that was what she deserved, something cruel and bitter, but she only hated herself more for wallowing in this pity parade. She was better than this, she had always been better than this, so why did it make her ache so much now? Why did this wolf suddenly want to care about the opinions of sheep? Her hands balled into fists at her sides, perfectly done nails pressing into her palms as she clenched so tight that it might well have drawn blood, but she couldn't hold on to it for long. Those same hands soon reached out, wrapping around Giselle's frame as the other woman leaned on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

"Maybe we fucked up by trying to make this too complex." She joined in on that laugh, her voice growing softer as tears stained those cheeks and began to drip onto Giselle's body beneath her. She squeezed just a little, as if she was venting it out of her system bit by bit rather than unloading it all at once again, and raised her chin so that her head could rest neatly on top of Giselle's. "All this extra shit got under my skin, I thought it was making us better but maybe it just made everything worse."

Her gaze lingered somewhere in the middle distance, not that Giselle could see it from down below, as Candi really tried to just squash everything down to a level she could tolerate again. She did want to make this work. This whole disaster that was a relationship buried under all this debris.

Candi felt tired too, the weariness of this prolonged argument finally boiling over, as she felt Giselle relax in her grip. It took a lot out of her to just let something peeter out rather than fighting till an explosive finally. Swallowing her pride was something far too gargantuan to just pass by without causing any ill effects. But this was not weariness, no, for, although she had let tears blemish her perfect features, she was glad to be here with Giselle. For all the anguish that she had caused her, and likely had inflicted in turn, there was quite simply no one else.

"Screw the past. We're here in the now, and this is the Giselle I want."

She squeezed back again, as a hand raised to cup around Gigi's cheek. Her fingers savoured the familiar sensation of wrapping around that face, exploring as if it was uncharted territory, and guided her gaze upwards. Towards her own.

"We're not fucking done. Not by a long shot."