Clarity
Clarity
Summary: After a long night of detox on the Carina, Zaharis is getting it back together with Adele's help.
Date: 40 ACH
Related Logs: Hard Truth
Players:
Adele..Zaharis..

(OOC Note: Rhea came by in an earlier scene but I lost that part of the log. Oh noez.))

Townhome A Carina - Main Level
40 ACH 6285 Souls


This two-story home is comfortably sized for a small family. The downstairs holds the living room, kitchen, a half-bath, and a small bedroom or office. The other two bedrooms are upstairs, along with the bathroom.

The main living area is furnished with a long comfortable couch and two matching chairs accented with a pair of small end tables. A wireless unit sits atop a cabinet along one wall, and a sliding glass door leads out to a small porch.

Adjacent to the living room is a small kitchen and dining area, separated up by a breakfast nook countertop. The modern conveniences are available, including a large refrigeration unit and countertop stove, micro-oven, and plenty of counter space. The dining area has a table and chairs for four.

This room is currently UNLOCKED.

See +lhelp for local help files.


Even for a doctor, sitting up all night with someone in severe drug withdrawal is not fun. Soon Zaharis is making noise constantly, from whimpering to outright screaming that leaves his throat raw. He slides in and out of lucidity, sometimes long enough to make it all the way to the bathroom when he has to throw up. Around sixteen long hours later it seems to start tapering off and he begins dozing in spots, bleary and drowsy when awake, and finally he just seems to fall asleep and stay there.

As Zaharis' twitching stops, Adele finally allows herself to doze, but dozing in a kitchen chair is neither restful nor comfortable. She probably would have been better off just staying awake the entire time. Coming out of a light nap for about the seventh time in an hour, Adele regards Zaharis blearily. She stands, wincing with stiffness, and goes to assault her body further by tidying up what she can.

Zaharis takes in a sudden breath, his head turning on the pillow and arms stretching up towards the headboard. He winces slightly at the soreness in his arms and back, relaxing the muscles with a soft groan. "…frak."

At that word, Adele turns to face Zaharis on the bed. Her gaze slides up and down his body, but she doesn't approach him. She keeps her distance, straightening up from picking up a water bottle that got flung across the room early in the detoxing. "How do you feel?" she asks. Doctor.

"Like I got run over by a Raptor." Zaharis' voice is raw and he talks quietly. His own statement makes him chuckle under his breath and he rubs his fingers over his eyes. Head pounding. His eyes squint back open and he slowly takes stock of his own body. Stink of sweat and vomit, soreness, exhaustion. "Adele?"

Adele's eyes continue to rove over Zaharis' body. Everywhere on his body but his face, for a while. When he says her name, her gaze stops moving, remaining on his shoulder for a moment. Then, instead of answering verbally, she shifts her grey eyes a hint, meeting his.

Zaharis is looking back at her. Tiredly, granted, but he is looking. He slowly pulls a sore arm under him, bracing some weight on it. Everything may hurt, but his dark eyes are clearer than they've been in a long time. "You are so beautiful."

Adele's throat constricts as she swallows a rapidly rising lump of emotion. She tries to keep her composure, but seeing his eyes so clear affects her too profoundly. She drops the bottle of water she was holding and makes a few long strides towards the bed, where she settles upon the edge. Her mouth tries to form words, but they don't come. She just looks at him, lovingly and angrily.

Zaharis rolls over onto his back, carefully. His head lolls against the pillow, his neck lacking the energy to hold it straight. His eyes leave hers just to look once around the room as though it were the first time he were really seeing it, then go back to her face. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Adele mumbles, bringing a hand up to rub at her reddened eyes. Lowering it, she brushes back some hair that's been long plastered with sweat to his forehead. "Gods damn it, Jesse," she breathes, the anger bubbling back up to her features. "I completely alienated Rhea because of this. She might have told Regas, I don't know. We could both be in so much frakking trouble, you idiot." Tears well in her eyes and she tries to squint them away, but they're only squeezed out, marking a trail down her cheeks. "Don't you ever do that again. Don't you dare."

That's a lot of things to be telling him at once. Zaharis half-closes his eyes when she touches his face. Her tear splashes onto his hand when it drops and he rubs his fingers together, looking back at her face. "If she told Regas I'll say it's my fault. He can't punish you." He draws in a breath and exhales it, even his lungs seeming to weigh a thousand pounds at the moment. "Adele, listen to me. You remember you asked me once about this tattoo?" Such a random question, but he seems to have some point.

Adele's exhaustion is manifesting itself on her face and in her body, and in the way she just bubbled over at him. She reins it in at his words, nodding numbly as she speaks about Regas. When he asks her about the tattoo, her brows furrow, and she regards him in confusion. "Yeah." Her gaze flits to his naked arm.

"I grew up in a city called Renca," Zaharis says, taking a breath with each pause. "Ask anyone from Scorpia and they'll tell you — most of what comes out of Renca is trash. It's poor and it's dirty and it's a hopeless place. They certainly didn't expect anything of me. I was taking drugs when I was thirteen years old. That's what I was, I was a drug addict. That's what I still am. Somebody saved my life back then. But a drug addict is always a drug addict. Just sometimes we're sober and sometimes we're not. I've fallen off before. I might fall off again. I can't ever make a promise, I can only keep going. Keep making more out of myself and my life than what I was born into says I should be. And that's…what my arm means."

As Adele listens to Zaharis speak, every ounce of anger drains from her face until she looks hollow, her eyes dull and her lips cracked. The color is gone from her cheeks for a moment, but as tears return to her ducts, the color returns and the hollow well of her expression fills once more with emotion. "Oh… Jesse," she sobs, sliding onto the bed next to him, nevermind the vomit and stale sweat all over the black sheets that show every darkened stain. When she touches him, she's excrutiatingly gentle, her fingers feather-light upon the dark outlne of the tattoo.

Zaharis smiles a little, bittersweet. "Sorry, I should've told before you got this invested in the short end of the stick. But…that's me." His tone offers a little apology but honestly not that much. He can't change who he is. He lets his arm fall open as she sits down, inviting her against him for all the icky sweat and pleasant smells. "You know? Just got to keep going."

Adele lays against him, suffering through the sweat and smell. She wraps her arm around his middle and settles her head against his chest. "I don't care how long your stick is, Jesse," she says, grasping for just a hint of lightheartedness through all the intensity. "You're… you. It doesn't matter how you got to be you, so long as you do what you can to keep… being the best you." She frowns at her lack of eloquence, and sighs. Her fingers continue to trace over that tattoo. "I…" She trails off and just breathes.

Zaharis' chest moves as he breathes, and he replies quietly. "I love you."

Adele is quiet for a long few moments, her eyes fluttering shut against his chest as she listens to his breathing and his heart. Then she nestles closer to him, moving her hand from the tattoo to his cheek. "I know. I love you too," she whispers back.

Zaharis doesn't say anything for a while after that. His hand settles into a repetitive motion, brushing his fingers down her side on the outside of her shirt. When he finally talks again it's tired but almost amused. "I need to eat something. I am frakking starving."

"You need a shower, too," Adele informs him, as if he didn't already know. "I have some food in the kitchen. I could fix you something, then play nurse and give you a sponge bath," she suggests, feeding off that amused tone she detected.

Zaharis smirks a little. "No, I need to make myself move." He turns his head away from her face as he yawns, a huge one. Keeping his eyes open is a chore, even with all the sleep he just got. He starts to shift his shoulders, painfully, then stops. "Was Rhea here?"

Adele's eyes flicker at Rhea's name, as if something just occurred to her. Then she closes them. "Yeah," she says carefully, sliding out of the bed to stretch her own muscles. They're not as sore, surely, but they were pretty stationary in that chair for a long time. "I think…" She frowns, then seeks out Zaharis' gaze. "I can't be sure, but there was something you said. She might ask about it. Do you… did you know a Justine?" She looks apologetic as she asks.

The half-smirk vanishes from Zaharis' face, and he looks as though someone had just injected icewater into his bloodstream. "Why?"

Adele swallows, stopping dead in a stretch. Slowly, her arm lowers, and she explains. Carefully. "You said that name. Then… 'Zimm, she's your wife, stop lying.'" She recites it as though she committed it to memory as soon as it was said. "It's none of my business, Jesse. But you should know what you said." She sucks in her lower lip.

"Shit. Shit, shit…" Zaharis raises a hand and presses the heel against his eye. It's not an angry string of words. "Did she say anything?"

"No," Adele replies. "She left, after I suggested she go." Again, she swallows, but her throat is tighter and it makes a sound as she does it.

"Okay…one thing at a time." Zaharis breathes carefully, talking as though drilling himself. "Shower. Going to shower. Going to brush my teeth, because there is no way in good conscience I can kiss you right now, and that's all I really want to do."

Adele nods, hazarding a faint smile. She can't hide the concerned curiosity in her gaze, but she doesn't press it. "Okay. Good. I'll make you something suitably basic in the kitchen while you prepare yourself for some very intense smooching."

"I'm about as intense as a garden slug right now," Zaharis replies, proving the point by taking a full five seconds to be able to roll over onto his side. "But I think you might be able to change that." He smirks a little bit, continuing his very puddle-like spill off the bed. Creeeeak.

"I'll hold the salt then," Adele quips, folding her arms across her chest as she watches him spill from the bed. "Do you need help?" she asks, though she makes no move towards him.

Zaharis is now sitting on the edge of the bed one precarious slide from being a heap on the floor. But he shakes his head once. "Everybody chill." He raises both index fingers. "I got this." Hands down, he balances very carefully and stands to stand up, slooowly unfolding to his full height. "/Oh/ yeah."

Adele purses her lips, watching Zaharis handle his first post-detox wobble on sore legs. Behind the amusement shining in her eyes, there is a deep relief that slips out of her in the form of an unwitting sigh as he doesn't fall back over into a sweating, convulsing heap. "I'll alert the press," she tells him, a genuine smile rounding out her sculpted cheeks.

"Don't think I'm ready for the photoshoot quite yet." Zaharis smirks, setting a hand down on the end table. "But we're gettin there." He even winks at her, before starting to shuffle off towards the bathroom. Old man style.

Adele watches him go, the smile fading into something a bit more introspective before she turns to go figure out how to make toast. Stupid silver spoons!

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