milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Orpheus has been outside for a few days now, and when he comes back indoors, he looks...tired, mostly.

He slides onto a stool at the bar and leans his guitar against the front. "Sweetheart," he says in a voice that is rough from overuse. "Can I get...."

Before he finishes, a bowl of soup accompanied by a hunk of bread appear in front of him. Also a bottle of ouzo, which he nudges to the side. "I'm trying not to."

The bottle vanishes and a pack of cigarettes appears instead, next to a large glass of water and an ash tray. Trading one vice for another, Orpheus opens the pack, taps out a cigarette, puts it to his lips and lights it with a Bic from his pocket.

He takes a long slow drag, exhales a cloud of smoke, and sets it down before actually turning his attention to his food.

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A half undressed festival chick in a flower-crown comes tripping in through the door with a blast of music. The blonde giggles and dances over to the bar for some water. With a cock of the head and a grin, Sinric nods to the packet of cigarettes. "May I?"

{ooc: while Sinric is technically male but looking very, very fem in this outfit. Feel free to recognise him or not.}

Orpheus, being slightly empathic, does not generally have much trouble recognizing people, even when Bar puts them through some changes.

Today, however, he has several other things on his mind. Calling him distracted would be a massive understatement. Still, he taps out another cigarette, offers it to Sinric without a word, and slides the lighter over after.

"Thank you." Sin smiles, lighting the cigarette with an unpractised fumble. The cheap plastic lighter is a new thing to him. He swears in Ancient Greek as he finally get the flame steady.

The Greek makes him look up from his soup and focus a little on his companion.

"Sinric, yes?" he asks. His voice is rough, scratchy, overused.

"Sin today, but yes." he smiles brightly, his lips shimmering with gold glitter. "You sound hoarse. Are you well?"

Orpheus laughs roughly. There's neither humor nor mirth in the sound. He looks like he's been sleeping rough (he has) and hasn't eaten in three days (he hasn't).

"No," he says. "No, I'm not at all well." (Despite the above facts, he doesn't look at all unhealthy.)

"Anything I can help with?" he asks with genuine care.

Orpheus tears off a bit of bread, dips it in his soup, and pops it into his mouth before turning slightly to regard Sin, looking him over. Steve had wanted him to move on, but...

Nope. Still definitely not ready for that.

"What ails me has never had a cure, lovely."

Sinric would be lying if he denied that Orpheus calling him lovely made his heart flutter a little.

"Love, then." Sin nods with a soft sigh. "That which brings us greatest joy, wounds us deepest. I am sorry."

"You and me both," Orpheus says, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He picks up the glass of water Bar gave him and drinks about half of it before setting it down again. He moves slowly, deliberately. He's trying to keep it under control. His fingers are red at the tips from playing for the last three days with very few breaks.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette. "It's not my first heartbreak." It hurts like the first, though. Very much like the first.

Sinric inches closer, unsure of his welcome as he reaches to rest a gentle hand on Orpheus's arm. There is no balm for that suffering, nothing trite words can heal. All Sinric can offer is friendship and support. "Would it help to talk?"

Orpheus looks at the hand with his head cocked. As with Emcee, he's struck by the thought of how long it's been since he's had even incidental touch in his life.

"I...hardly know. I'm in love. We were to be married. He asked me to leave." His hand moves to his chest, fingers playing with something under his t-shirt, a ring on a chain.

Sinric shifts his hand, prepared to remove it if it's unwelcome. His hand is warm and soft, his touch light and gentle.

Sinric touches his own throat, awake of the absence of weight there. His own love token is safely with the bar while he's out dancing. "He has chosen another?"

"No," Orpheus says, shaking his head. He doesn't mind the touch and makes no move to disrupt it. It's...almost nice?

"No, I almost think that would be easier. He...said it was what he needed." That's why Orpheus had left, anyway. Steve had also said lots of things about Orpheus deserving more, which Orpheus thinks is utter bullshit.

But he'd said it was what he needed, so Orpheus gave it to him. That doesn't make it any easier than losing his fiancee to a den of vipers.

So Sinric's hand stays, glad of the contact also. Sinric may not be emphatic but he can project emotion in a sense. He gives off a gentle warmth of solace and solidarity. A feeling that one is not alone in the world.

"And what is it you need?"

It's a solace Orpheus is happy to take. A modicum of tension eases out of him.

His gaze is drawn, as it often is, to the Observation Window. "Rest," he says.

An end to the long drag of centuries he was never meant to see. But he knows how Steve would take that, and it's far too great a burden for him to heap on even a superhero's shoulders.

Daring a little, Sinric leans in to brush back a lock of Orpheus' hair. "Take it here. The rest you need." his touch brings calm, the sort that could float one into a dreamless sleep.

Orpheus leans into the touch slightly, his eyes slipping closed for just a moment. He inhales slowly and lets it out again before opening his eyes.

"Not that kind of rest, lovely," he says. "The kind you don't wake up from."

Sinric strokes his cheek again, stepping closer that Orpheus may lean into his if he wishes. Slight and slender, Sinric is not much taller standing that Orpheus is perched on a bar stool. "That is a gift I cannot bestow. It is within my power, but I have not the strength nor heart to do it."

Edited 2018-06-06 04:51 (UTC)

He does lean into the touch, though it makes his breath hitch a little, and the laugh he gives is a bit on the watery side. He lifts his hand to his throat, his fingertips tracing unconsciously over the faint, jagged scar that runs all the way around. "It's not so easy as that even. I...Hades won't take me." Demeter has offered to speak to the gods for him, but he'd told her not yet. "And anyway, I couldn't... Steve wouldn't take it well."

He knows how Steve sees it, as giving up rather than lying down after a day that has gone on far too long.

Sinric pulls him into a gentle embrace. When even death offers no promise of respite, life must be a great burden. "You love him above your own heart. Even now."

Another deep breath as Orpheus struggles not to start crying again. It's really hard to sing and cry at the same time, and especially hard on anyone who happens to be in earshot and gets a good dose of Orpheus' emotions.

He lets the breath out shakily and straightens slightly. He's still not sure he's ready to be so close to someone. Not yet.

"I could hardly do otherwise, and he deserves no less."

Sinric feels the shift in Orpheus and steps back a little, his hands still lingering warmly on Orpheus' arms. The cigarette he lit has burnt to ash in the tray, disregarded.

For a moment Sinric holds Orpheus' eyes. "I am mortal, but stronger than I seem. When you're ready, should you need someone to lean on, you need only say."

Orpheus nods with a faint smile. "My thanks," he says. "I...I may take you up on that."

He hadn't realized how short he is on friends since leaving Steve's world, but now that he has, he's that much more grateful for any offers of friendship he comes across.

"I hope you do." Sinric gives him a gentle squeeze, and on a whim, leans in to brush a kiss to Orpheus' cheek.

The kiss is chaste and sweet, demanding nothing but offering friendship.

"Get some rest and let the bar take care of you. Till our paths cross again."

Orpheus accepts the kiss in the spirit it's given, his eyes closing briefly.

"Take care of yourself," he says. "Or let someone take care of you as well."

Sinric dances over to the door, darting back to the bar to grab a little package of condoms from the bar with a grin. "Oh, I will."

Slipping back into the party chick persona, Sin throws a kiss over his shoulder and lets himself back through the door into the dance party crowd.

{ooc: thanks for the thread, that was very sweet.}

[ooc: Thank you! Sin is a sweetheart.]

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