Casey watched Drake leave after they had bid each other good night. It was then that he realized that he wasn’t mad about the breakup anymore. That didn’t take away the hurt. “It also doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate watching you leave.” he muttered under his breath as he began to untape his hands, his eyes on Drake’s backside until he disappeared through the doors.
With Drake gone, he set about packing up. One good night to Pat later, and he was on his way out to the parking lot himself, heading home for the day. Back to his apartment. Back to the stress.
On the drive, he found his thoughts drifting back to things Drake had said, before words became jumbled in his head, and he put more focus into paying attention to the streets in front of him. On the elevator ride up, he thought about Drake again. This time however, he thought of the way he had moved in the ring; the way he had looked through the night; the way his voice sounded.
“Dammit Case, get over yourself.” he muttered to himself, just before stepping out onto the hallway that led to his door.
The apartment was quiet as he entered. The lights were on, but there were no active noises. Billy was passed out on the sofa, some empty cans of soda on the coffee table nearby. He took a moment to click the TV off, before turning off the lights, and making some rounds of the rest of the place. Soft breathing could be heard outside Elodie’s room, and behind Camille’s room, he could hear sounds of restlessness and grieving. He raised a hand to knock, then lowered it, thinking it best to give her time to adjust on her own for now.
Everything now locked up and dark, he headed for his room, and closed the door quietly. The gym bag was dropped unceremoniously on the closet floor before he moved to the edge of his bed and sat, thinking over recent events.
Drakes question of “What do you want, Casey?” kept ringing through his head. While he’d stated his long-term goals, and had some good ideas presented to him, it didn’t answer the more immediate issue of what he wanted. Things had been immensely stressful for him over the past couple of nights, and now it felt like his coterie was upset with him, as well as his sister, and possibly even his niece.
He removed a small sketchbook from his nightstand drawer, and began to draw idly, outlining the shape of a face, as he continued his introspection.
He wanted to support his niece and his sister, now that their lives had fundamentally changed because of him. Though he’d angered Drake by embracing… angered? Upset? Annoyed? He wasn’t entirely positive on how Drake felt when he’d presented himself earlier that evening. Where was his thought process going again?
“Motherfucker.” he sighed as he glanced down at the pad he held, only to find yet another sketch of Drake. He titled the pad, and started over in another section.
“Where was I again?” he muttered, this time trying to focus a little more. “Oh. Right.” he had been musing over Drake’s question.
What he wanted most right now was just someone he could find comfort in. Someone that could provide intimacy beyond just sex, and it felt like he wasn’t going to find that anytime soon.
Brandon was quite certain he would never catch feelings, so that was definitely out. He and Jardani had been broken up for a while, and though it had been amicable as far as he knew and Jardani had said, and would be awkward besides, so that was out as well. Romantic prospects in his life right now seemed limited to Victor, and while he was willing to see how another date or two went, they didn’t have the kind of connection Casey was seeking right now. With this sort of thing, he felt alone. Although circumstances were different, it reminded him of when he had still been mortal, and had no one.
“I’ve got time.” he muttered to himself. “If nothing else, I’ve got time to find someone.”
He set the pencil down, and looked at the new sketch. It was nothing special, just a vague outline with no defining features. Very rough. Taking a moment to rub the bridge of his nose, he put the sketchbook and pencil away. What he craved would happen someday. It wasn’t something to be forced. But he wished he could have it now nevertheless.
Onto other matters.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would arrange to meet with his mentor. If Camille were ready to meet him, he would take her, however, were she not, he would talk to Gabriel himself about his conversation with Drake, as well as finding teachers for some of the other disciplines he had begun to learn. He would rather learn from someone Gabriel trusted, then to ask a random and end up owing someone he would loathe to owe.
Yawning, he looked at the time, taking one last scout around the apartment to make sure everyone else was safe, before settling down to bed himself.