And I've moved further than
I thought I could

But I missed you more than I thought I would
And I'll use you as a warning sign
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind
@duke | outfit

Things were as to be expected in many ways. He was a mess, which he thought he deserved entirely. As the days went on he became better at hiding it, though never fully a master of the skill. There were days when he would make excuses to go into the house from the studio. Grab a cuppa or something like that. Anything to stop himself from showing his weaknesses. Anything to keep himself together each time he looked at Cat and saw the gleam of near-tears; anything to keep him from shutting the office door on the days she looked especially lovely and having a playful romp like they used to do....before he ruined everything.

He was missing everything about her. About them. And the days they both found themselves in the studio made things especially hard. It was hard to keep his focus when she sat so close behind her desk. It was hard to keep from falling into those familiar habits, ones like giving her a peck whenever he left the room. It was hard because he knew that it was over....but never really over between them. He would always love her. She could burn the whole bloody studio down, house included, and he'd still look at her with stars in his eyes. Stars that felt so painful now. Less than the fairy tale gleam, and more like the scorching disastrous balls of flame that they really were. With burning like that, it wasn't always easy to keep his eyes from watering. And keeping his composure was getting harder by the day.

This had been what he had wanted, nay, what they had needed. Wasn't it? She needed to be free of him, and he of her, for the greater good of the long run. This would save her from the likes of him, wouldn't it? Gods, he had felt so sure of it when he asked for the papers to be drawn up. Sitting across from her each and every day and seeing the sorrow in her, the sorrow in them both....it was hard to be sure. Part of him wanted to remain steadfast on the matter. He told himself again and again that this was the only way. Another part, quiet as a mouse when he had gotten himself into this predicament, was now screaming loud that this was not what was best. This wasn't going to save either of them any heart ache. This was simply the only way of coping he understood. To push and drive away, that was all he knew.

That voice, no matter how ear shatteringly loud it became, still held no baring to him. Though he could feel seeds of doubt planting, sprouting, growing every time they bellowed. In just over a month he found himself buried in a forest of it. Loud as ever that he was the problem, that he should seek help. But as loud as the forest was it was also thick and blinding. What he needed was a voice beyond the thicket. A voice of reason, one that he could trust. An aching part of his heart begged it to be his mother's but he knew that was no longer a possibility. And never would be again.

What he needed was the voice of a friend. Even a knob head like him had friends, and it was no surprise that Tib's house was the first place he had come. It was almost out of habit to come here, even more than it was to go to his own damn home, and he knew that no matter how he fought his feet they'd always carry him to his best mate. Van flooed over as soon as he'd left the studio and it felt very much like a sinner running to confession after a lapse. He hadn't lapsed, but he was weak and he knew it. Most of his morning had been spent mixing a song for Freya, finding the exact beat to bring it to his personal standards. And while most was spent being productive a great bit of it was spent yelling at himself every time his eyes rose up to look at his ex-wife.

All morning he fought the urge over and over to just blurt that he was sorry, that he didn't mean for any of it, and that he wanted her back. But he couldn't do that! He couldn't return right where he'd left off with nothing to show for it. The same worthless shit he was and would likely be if given the chance. That was exactly what he didn't want for her, and exactly why he needed to go to Tib's. To get the bloke to talk some bloody sense into him. To tell him that he did good, that he'd do good again tomorrow, and to get some bloody help.

Walking through the familiar house he attempted to argue himself on the last point. He didn't need help, he was doing just fine, who needs a bloody shrink when you're short enough already. Oh, ha, very funny-- this is exactly the type of self depreciating bullshit that warrants help, Van. He rolled his eyes at himself, swinging on the door jam into the game room. The sound of billiard balls clanking drew him there, and while a game of pool sounded fun, his face gave way that he was far to pissy with himself to fully enjoy it. "Hey. Who's winning?" He raised his brow, giving his friend a weak smirk. "You or yourself?"

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

talk some sense into me
_{cause I know i've done wrong}

Tiberius was frustrated, mainly because he knew now that he had a right to be as nervous as he was, things had not gone anything like he had expected and to be honest, he wanted Demelza to like him, he wanted Winona's family to want him around and support their relationship, but that wasn't looking it was going to happen now. He knew the world that he had pulled Winona in was one that she would be judged for, being a pureblood mean that she would be judged even harsher, but this far she had shown no problems with any of it. She had had no problems facing anything or anyone; while he had done everything that he could to shield her from everything that he could. He didn't want her to have the life that he did when he was a kid, or what anyone who just got famous would face. She was his girlfriend, and she had never asked for this kind of thing.

He wished that she could just never have to handle any of this crap but that was life and Demelza knew it, she was famous enough because of Quidditch so he hoped that maybe that was one reason that Winona handled everything like a champ. He came home and the first thing that he did was get himself a drink and then headed into the Game room to play some pool and blow off steam. He wished that everything just went better, that the whole last year had.

His friends were the only reason that he had made it through everything, and after getting sick and then served divorce papers when he felt like he wa dying, he knew he coul make it through pretty much anything. So he made it a point to have an open door for any fo them the came to him, that needed anything from him. He knew what he was doing. He knew that Van or Cat or someone would come to him and need him to help them with something and he would do everything he could to help them, even if he couldn't do anything to help how he was feeling.

He shot the thirteen into a corner pocket and smirked before marking on the chalkboard and moving to hit another ball when he saw Van. He smirked a little and hit the ball, laughing as two went into the pocket. "I'm not doing so bad, but I have a lot of time to practice these days." He said with a small snort before setting the stick down. He took his drink and motioned for his friend to go with him down the stairs to the living room where music had been playing. He turned down the stereo and moved to fill his cup up.

"Want anything?

@van | OUTFIT | 473

AND I'VE MOVED FURTHER THAN
I THOUGHT I COULD

BUT I MISSED YOU MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD
AND I'LL USE YOU AS A WARNING SIGN
THAT IF YOU TALK ENOUGH SENSE THEN YOU'LL LOSE YOUR MIND

Van was sick of feeling this way. For months now he had been falling down a rabbit hole of utter misery and now that he was finally at the bottom he just wanted to get out. He had tried to get out on his ow. He truly had, but it was a lost cause. The Van he was hadn't been strong enough to pull himself out of this one. He hadn't been strong enough to do the right thing the night he had cheated, or the day after when he had been such a ridiculous arsehole to his wife. He hadn't been strong enough for anything and because of that there were no guards on his heart.

Before Caterina all he did was build up walls. Walls upon walls upon walls. He had a way about him, one that screamed that he didn't give a single fuck, and he hadn't. He hadn't cared at all and no one knew how hard he had to work to be so devoid of feeling. It had taken years to knock himself down low enough that his walls could be immeasurably high. And for the longest time he had been comfortable with where he sat. He had his band, his best mate, his siblings....what more could he have possibly needed?

Well, now he knew full well what he needed. He knew what he had been missing behind that tall wall that he had built. He had peered over the edge of it and found a sea of bright green grass and flowers, looked down at his pile of steaming self loathing and rubbish and hopped over the damn wall as fast as he could. For months he lived in this new world with Cat, and then at the first sign of trouble he had jumped back into the rubbish bin with it's tall walls.

Merlin, did he hate himself for it. Especially now that he had begun laying the final bricks atop his tall, tall wall. Gods, he fucking hated himself. It showed in the bricks and mortar he used this time. Not as sturdy as they had been once. These ones were cracking and frail. He was weak, and it was as plain as the nose on his face. When Tib had laughed and sunk his two billiard balls, he hadn't even the slightest of the smile. He couldn't even fake it anymore. He was just....done. 

Van followed his mate downstairs to the living area, watching as he walked over to fill his cup. "Something strong and make it snappy," he said in an attempt at a jest, but it came out more a dull drone. Whatever liquor Tib poured him would hopefully drown out the misery of what he was dealing with. Or at least make it so he didn't feel the ripping in his heart at all. Van sighed heavily, looking pitifully at his friend. "I know you're sick of hearing it, and I'm sick of saying it, but fuck....why does this hurt so much?" He winced, shaking his head and hopefully the sting of his eyes away. Over the course of the past few months he was sure Tib was sick of hearing about his heart aches, but damn if they weren't all he thought about.

@duke | Words:546

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

talk some sense into me
_{Cause I know i've done wrong}

Tiberius was sure that his mother had no idea what he was doing, no idea that he was about to ask his girlfriend, the one that she was now responsible for having, but he didn't rightly care if she got mad or not. Tiberius was almost one hundred percent certain that his mother was going to ask him to take over the family and as much as he knew that it was going to upset her, he had no want to do so. He didn't need to really be the head of the family. He didn't want to give up being a wrockstar to be the head of the family, and he had already talked to Darren. Despite being a pain in his ass and a stick in the mud, his brother did want what was best for the family. Darren would make a good lord, he would make a good head of the family, and it would feel good to have his mother stop pressuring him into things all of the time because Uncle Peter was dead.

The bastard had deserved whatever it was that had happened to him. Xiomara deserved better than that, and her kids, which were taking her last name now, deserved to be treated better than this. They deserved whatever life Xiomara could give them, and based on the family that she had, and how protective Lord Shafiq was over the family, Tiberius was sure that she had nothing to worry over. His only concern was with Winona if you could ever call it a concern. He loved her, he wanted her around and she loved his home, it felt more like one with her there. Less like a place that his mother had told him he would be calling home. Sheryl Crabbe was a force to be reckoned with, but it was better than he didn't have her holding his reigns and Darren was younger, untainted by the media and music.

That couldn't be said of Tib and his best friend, sadly. They were both purebloods, both of them could be the heads of their families if they had want of it, and both of them were a part of the best-damned wrockband in the business. They were two peas in a pod and nothing really had ever come between them. Nothing ever would, although, Van's behavior recently had Tib ready to snatch a hole in Van's ass. He hated to see his friend hurting like this, especially one that he thought of as an older brother, but damn, the man was enough to make a saint cry at times.

Tib sighed when Van asked him why it hurt so much and he handed the man his glass before sitting down on a couch and tucked a foot under him. "Well, it's mainly because you're a fucking idiot and tossed the only good thing that has ever happened to you in the bin, and you have to see her and work with her all the time. So it's not like with Sabine and me. You love her, or at least you did. She's just as miserable you know. Did she give you the papers yet?"

tag: @duke // words: 532 // OUTFIT

template by eliza @ TB THQ

AND I'VE MOVED FURTHER THAN
I THOUGHT I COULD

BUT I MISSED YOU MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD
AND I'LL USE YOU AS A WARNING SIGN
THAT IF YOU TALK ENOUGH SENSE THEN YOU'LL LOSE YOUR MIND

There had been a handful of times in Van's life that he thought he had hit rock bottom. The way his father had treated him he could have swore he had always been at the bottom. Floating on in some murky forgotten seabed. Meanwhile his sisters were golden kois swimming each and every way they were supposed to, Sierra especially. That hadn't been him. Never once in his life had he gone with the currents he was supposed to. Not as a child, or a Lord to be, as a son...or as a husband. 

If there was one thing he had done right it had been being a wrockstar. It was the only thing he was good at. Great at, really. And the band he had risen up with had been with him through every up and down imaginable. They were the family he had chosen, and that meant something. Coming from an arsehat like him, it meant a whole lot. He knew deep in the pits of his being that Cat meant even more than that. It was scary to think of but that didn't make it any less true. She had been the one he had chosen above all else. Above his own rules and the rules of his family. Hell, above unwritten rules of pureblood  etiquecy he had stood on the steps of his family home and bloody demanded to have her.

Why he was throwing that all away now... Merlin, was he even sure? He had felt so goddamn sure just a month ago. He had felt it in his core, through his heart and lungs and everything else, he had felt that it was the right thing to do. No matter how hard he could try he would never be the husband she deserved. He had never been the son anyone deserved. The scholar, the Lord, the....anything. He had never measured up. Ever. Only when he was on stage carrying a persona bigger than he himself ever could be. Or ever was...

Van still thought that that was true. He couldn't be the man she needed. Not the way he was. Not with the ways he dealt with things. The disrespectful, selfish ways. No one deserved that and it only broke his heart further to know that he had done it. Without a shadow of a doubt he had done those things, those terrible disrespectful and selfish things. And no amount of running could ever outdo them. No amount of apologies. Van listened to his mate speak and felt himself scoffing on the inside. Had he seen she was miserable? By God, how could he have missed it?

"Well aren't you just a ray of sunshine," he batted back, rolling his eyes as he drew his drink to his lips. The nature of it happened so quickly he hardly had noticed he had done it at all. He supposed that was always how he got by. Deflection. Humor or hurting, take your bloody pick. "In my defense I've always been stupid, not just in recent months, and it's never hurt this bad before. I've also tossed away plenty of good things." He paused, swallowing thickly. Throw away good things he had. Things that meant a lot to him like a last moment with his father, or evening with his mum. His marriage....it was just another good thing destroyed by yours truly, Van Parkinson.

Van's brows furrowed, his lips narrowing to nearly a slit on his face. "Of course I love her still. I don't think it's the sort of thing people can just turn off or be rid of. Life would be much easier if it were. For me, and for her." He had saw how hard his decision had impacted her. And he knew it would. What they had was stronger than anyone could understand, and he bloody knew it. Van had tried to reason with himself that it would be just as any other break up would be on the heart. Time would heal all wounds. It always did. But one month had passed now and...

"Yeah. Yeah, she's given them back." Van's dark eyes stared blankly at no place in particular, unable to peel away as his mind reeled over the way her signature looked. Black against white. On paper. "...I've not turned 'em over yet." He finally spoke with a sniff. Van took a sip of his drink and looked at his friend waiting for a swat on the head or an ice cube launched in his general direction. Tell me to tear this band-aid off Tib, he thought to himself. Though he knew full well he what he wanted to hear. And that was far from it.

@duke | Words: 787

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0

Talk some sense into me

Cause I know I've done wrong

His best friend could often be a lot and Tib was aware of this factor. He also knew that he himself was a pain in the ass and that he could be a lot to handle. His ex-wife would even testify to that, despite them never having lived together. He didn't mind that people thought of them as the outsiders and the outcasts, they were better off that way in his own opinion, and nothing would change that. Not that he wanted it to do so. He liked his life and the things that he had at that moment. He like his house, and the band, and that he didn't have to worry about things anymore. Tib hated that his best mate was going through all of that, that he was being so sad and miserable but it was his own doing. He couldn't blame this on anyone but himself and honestly, Tib wished that he could say he had not seen it coming, but Van was Van. He was going to fuck things up sooner or later.

Van was a good man when he wanted to be he was a good wizard and a great musician, but there was something dark that lay hidden beneath some of the smiles and laughs that he tried to hide underneath, just like the booze and the partying. Tib tried to hide behind his mother's control and his father's name. After all, why not name the band something else? Why not do something that didn't end up with him compared to his father constantly? He could have done so many other things, but he liked things where they were right now, even if they felt like they were going to downhill. He didn't talk to his mother about it, but she liked making the choices for the band, she liked running their lives and everyone was better off letting her do so.

He put his stick down before pouring his own drink. "How about you play while we talk? Playing against myself is only fun for so long." He was too competitive to play against Winnie, not that he ever brought her up here. He racked the balls up again and then took the first shot watching the solid green ball roll easy into the corner pocket. "You call it self defense but it is more pointing out that everything before this, and everyone in your mind, at least, was meaningless." He said before smirking and looked at his friend and handed him a cue. "You're stripes." He said as he leaned his back against the stool behind him and watched his friend. "Have you stopped to consider that there is a reason for that, mate?" He said before sipping from his glass and looking at the elder man. "You ran from being heir, and with reasons, I will agree were valid, you ran from your family because they don't accept you, and now what. You ran from Cat because you're afraid to hurt her? Which you obviously already did. And for what?" Okay he was in a mood because of Melza, and was going to take it out on Van it seemed.

He smirked as Van said that he had not turned them in. "Well, you wanted to be free of her. So, why haven't you?"

tag: @van words: 560 template by eliza @ tb & thq