Muse - Aubin/Devaedra

[Aubin]

As Vae spoke, Aubin sketched and reflected on her position. His own death and that the girl was facing were too dissimilar for much comparison to be made so Aubin had to guess, to imagine vaguely, if he would have wanted someone at his side when he had perished. Considering the circumstances of his death such a wish seemed selfish as it was unlikely that whomever aided him in last days (Aubin could think of no one specific) would likely become similarly infected and die as well. But even with the removal of the possibility of contagion, Aubin wasn’t sure he would have wanted company. The loneliness of his death had been scarring of course and some small part of his antisocial tendencies no doubt could be traced back to his solitary death (and far more to his solitary awakening) but he couldn’t shake the dread that filled him whenever he imagined someone else witnessing those last few hours of pain, or the filth and general unclean that had accompanied his suffering.

“Have you thought,” ventured Aubin, still half lost in his morbid contemplation, “about telling your friends all that? What you just said I mean, the way you would want to be treated in your last few…whatevers? Your friends clearly love you and no doubt your family does too; I imagine they would respect your wishes as well as they could. Perfect compliance would be impossible of course, they would need, would demand, space to grieve in their own way, but they would, I suspect try. It can’t be so much harder to tell your friends what you’ve just told a stranger.”

Aubin trailed off then, allowing Vae time to contemplate his remarks and giving himself to finish his current sketch. The curves of Vae’s body were becoming familiar now, facilitating an faster and faster completion of each drawing. The sketches were rough of course and the process of painting Vae would take much longer, but the body that had been foreign was slowly becoming less and less so, at least in its clothed state.

“One more position please,” said Aubin as he made a final dash with his pencil, “whatever you’d like, same as before.”

[Vae]

Vae was quickly running out of ideas for positions. (Good thing this wasn't a sexual relationship or truly they would have been a shortlived one.) She made her way for a chaise lounge (did every artist's studio have a chaise lounge?) and took a seat, lounging back relaxedly. She thought for half a moment of assuming what she figured would be a sexy position a la the images which sometimes popped up on her computer from otherwise innocent websites, but she decided that in the end she wasn't really cut out for that kind of stuff. Instead she flung her arms above her head, hanging down from the elbow lazily, and crossed her legs at the calves, indian style. She took a deep breath, and then began to contemplate Aubin's advice. He seemed to know an awful lot about dying, or at least have lots of thoughts about it.

"I suppose I could tell them, but... well it is harder to talk to them. I mean, I won't hurt your feelings by telling you how I want to be mourned. You won't be mourning me. And they will. They've been there through thick and thin and I know - I honestly know - how hard it is to lose someone you love slowly like this. I know it will be hard for them and I know exactly what emotions will tear at them. I just can't bring myself to start the process."

She swallowed hard, examining the ceiling. She had often wondered if stalling was the right thing to do. Maybe by the time she told them it would be too late for them to be able to deal properly. Maybe she should tell them now. Would they be even angrier at her for keeping it secret? She was sure that Drake would be. He would be furious no matter when she told him. Mannie would only be heartbroken. She couldn't imagine how the girl would possibly take it losing Vae, the only woman figure in her life who had ever influence her for the better. And poor Andrew was trying to cure cancer, and here she was dying to it. How could she tell them? How could she be so cruel? Which was the lesser of the two evils?

"Would you want to know?" she asked suddenly, careful not to turn her head though largely only because she wasn't sure how her question would be received. "If Illiam were dying, would you want to know?"

[Aubin]

As before, Aubin listened and drew while Vae explained her position. The Vampyr was not, despite his questions, opposed to the girl’s choices and his inquiries into her actions and the reasons behind them were not borne of an attempt to get the young human to change her mind. He asked, rather, because he believed now that it was her upcoming death, or, more exactly, her clear knowledge of and intriguing response to her death that made her different. It was her differences he had picked up on in the bar and he was eager to explore it, to understand whatever parts of it he could.

Vae’s question, however, shocked Aubin out of his complacent position of listener and questioner. He had never imagined so much as the possibility of Illiam’s death (or indeed any of his friends) so the idea of Illiam dying at all was startling, a sudden flip flop of all Aubin’s expectations. Illiam could die of course and with the increasing unrest among the Vampyrs it wasn’t unheard for a Vampyr to die, but Aubin had never seriously considered that such a horrific fate would fall on Illiam who never involved himself in politics and who gave the Brudjan such a wide berth Aubin fancied they didn’t even know he existed. Suddenly, however, the possibility of Illiam’s death seemed to burst into existence and Aubin was stunned not only by the appearance of the possibility but also, possibly more so, by the pain that such a possibility produced in himself.

“Yes,” whispered Aubin, his voice strangled by the tears that had unexpectedly welled and the sudden, hot tightening of his throat, “I would want to know.”

Glistening tears threatened to fall from Aubin’s blue eyes and he looked down quickly, rubbing them away with the back of his hand. He focused on the picture before him, giving full attention to each line and smudge, anything to avoid the thought of Illiam’s death or the gaping, aching hole Illiam’s departure would leave in Aubin’s life and heart. The two men had been friends, lovers, and workmates for hundreds of years, for several lifetimes, and over that time Aubin had grown to love the other with a fierce intensity he himself had not fully understood until Vae’s question. Losing Illiam would be devastating, but if Aubin was to lose him, he would certainly want to know before the loss itself.

“You should tell your friends,” said Aubin at last, his voice still wavering slightly, “you….you really need to.”

His first and only assertion given, Aubin returned to his work, hiding from the hurt the thought of Illiam dying caused in the sketches of Vae. He worked silently and quickly, stopping only to rub every so often at his eyes, and was soon completed. He pushed the pad away, turning it so Vae could come and see, and secured his tools in a small metal box that stood nearby.

“I’ll give you $200 now,” he said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a roll of cash that would have made him the immediate and primary target of every single mugger in town had anyone known he carried so much money on his person, “for your time tonight, and as a retainer. If we could set up another meeting, to start on the painting itself, that would be useful….assuming you know your schedule at work? Or are you not given much forewarning of your shifts at the hospital? I’m not familiar with the hospital’s policies on…well…anything.”

[Vae]

Her heart fell at his reply, for various reasons. He said it with such decided ease that she felt immediately how wrong she must be for keeping her own impending death from her friends. If Aubin could be so certain, it must be just as easy a decision for she and her friends. She suddenly felt very wrong, very selfish, and she wished he had taken a little longer to make the decision, that his voice hadn't betrayed how moved he was, that he had refrained from using 'really.' She might have ignored him then. The way he said it, though, made it obvious.

It was time to give up the ghost.

Perhaps even more gutwrenching than that realization, however, was the knowledge that she had caused such a powerful reaction in someone as confident and self-willed as this Aubin character was. He spoke with an air of distinct wisdom and knowledge, like he had been around the block a few times, like soldiers who have seen more than anyone else of their time. He was an old soul, concrete and strong, but she had brought him down. He had been cheerful and full of smiles, and one question from her and he was sniffling and crying into his sketchbook. Death, it was a plague, and she had it and she was spreading it around like pollen in spring. And she would soon spread it to her very dear friends, to her parents, her family. It was a preview, only worse because she could have avoided hurting Aubin with it. She felt terrible.

She said nothing until he was done sketching, couldn't think of any words that would make it alright. So she spent the next few moments of silence until Aubin was done sketching in torturous quiet, kicking herself for her stupidity and for prying into someone's life who she knew little to nothing about. When he began talking business again she was suitably put in her place, and stood to meet him where he stood looking chagrined and apologetic. She took the proffered money with only a short glance of 'Holy Hell why do you carry that much cash you dork?!!' before lowering her eyes sorrowfuly. She had one hand rested on the opposite shoulder in her usual expression of true awkwardness as she replied that her next available evening was the night after next, and what time would he like her here?

But she was incapable of not saying something after making a grown man cry. "Aubin..." she said, suddenly, because if she didn't get it out she wasn't sure she would. "I'm... I'm so sorry about asking such a personal question and... I didn't mean..." She shrugged one shoulder higher, choked with true feeling but finding a hard time coming up with any explaination that would make her actions acceptable. "I just don't get a chance to talk about this very often, so I appreciate your honesty, and, I-I really didn't want to cause you any pain."

[Aubin]

Vae’s apology broke on Aubin unexpectedly, making the Vampyr smile faintly despite the serious nature of the subject she had invoked. He tried unsuccessfully to wave off the remark, gesturing that the matter wasn’t important and was already forgotten, but the human’s obvious distress made it evident within minutes that such a tactic would not suffice in soothing Vae’s clearly heartfelt distress.

“It’s alright,” said Aubin softly, meeting Vae’s eyes steadily, “an apology isn’t needed. I should, I suppose, be thanking you for asking such a question, actually. I hadn’t realized until your question how much I love Illiam and I probably wouldn’t have realized it ever if you hadn’t said anything. Illiam and I….we’ve been together for many, many years. I’ve grown used to him in a way, used to him enough, at least, that I had never imagined him leaving. The reminder that he could leave reminded me of how much I…well…love him.”

Aubin gave Vae an awkward smile, unsure of how else to describe the emotions that Vae’s question had stirred up. The hybridity of his relationship with Illiam, the interweaving of lover, friend, and agent, was too complicated to explain to the human. It was a relationship built on decades and decades of experience with one another and decades more of trust and companionship. The two Vampyrs were not exclusive with one another in any of the realms of their relationship and Aubin was not inclined, even in the wake of Vae’s question, to change that but her question did remind Aubin of why he continually came back to Illiam when he never came back so regularly or for so long to any of the other relationships he had in his life. This, of course, Aubin assumed the human could not understand. Humans lives such short lives it seemed only logical that they would seek exclusive relationships and marriages, connections that seemed strange and unnecessary to Aubin who had a very different view of ‘till death do you part.’

“The day after tomorrow will be fine,” ventured Aubin, speaking backwards to Vae’s explanation of her schedule, “9ish would be best, or as close to it as you can get. If you come early either Illiam or I will be in; just go ahead and knock. And feel free to bring one of your friends if you’d like; the first time you model nude it might seem….strange, having a friend close at hand is something helpful. Although don’t feel you have to bring one if you don’t want to.” Aubin smiled faintly and walked to the door, politely opening it for the human before adding gently, “And Vae? Don’t feel that we can’t continue to discuss your mortality. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable and, as you said, you don’t have many people you can talk to about it. Both Illiam and I are happy to listen…”

[Vae]

Vae nodded with some vague amount of understanding of Aubin's sentiments towards Illiam and her question. It was like the way children thought of parents, in a way. One always imagines there parents will be there for them, until they receive a jolting reminder some awful day that such a fact is absolutely not true at all. And, Vae supposed, maybe it was the same way for parents with their children? She would, she supposed, soon find out.

She offered the artist a smile as she took to the door he offered her, though she didn't know if she would be asking any more probing questions of him after all. She appreciated his help, but having caused such a drastic reaction in him made her realize just how little she knew about him and furthermore how inappropriate a sounding board he made for her thoughts about death. He owed her nothing except two hundred dollars an hour and a portrait of her not nude, and bringing her troubles to him like he was a bartender who had to listen or he wouldn't get a good tip was just unacceptable. But she smiled graciously at his offer anyway, and nodded.

"Thank you. I'll see you day after tomorrow." Turning from apartment she dug her cell phone from her pocket in order to catch up with her friends and see Where Da Party At, but she offered Aubin a cheerful wave from the sidewalk before stuffing her hand into her pocket and making her way back through the South End towards home.