listen to the wind blow (down comes the night)

[signed_sabrina]

running in the shadows
damn your love, damn your lies

i. Charlie
ii. Rosie

listen to the wind blow (watch the sun rise)

i. Charlie & Kavinsky
ii. Marcus
iii. Sam


[Collection post for Sabrina's threads during Lucifer's possession of Nick.]

Comments

[signed_sabrina]

"He's never... talked to me like that," Sabrina admits, in a small, dull voice. "I didn't think he had a mean bone in his body, honestly." She's hardly aware of the slow, steady course that the tears make down her cheeks, vaguely feeling them as they find their way along her neck and collarbone before finding the bed.

"He-- he didn't say anything to you?"

Slowly, feeling as if her limbs are full of wet sand, she turns to Rosie, her eyes huge and dark and swollen.

[forthsofar]

"I didn't think he did either," she says, and it's the truth. Everything he'd ever said about knowing Sabrina, loving her, all of it had practically shone with affection; every word, every gesture and look. To think that had been nothing more than an act turns Rosie's stomach. "He was always so nice. To you, to Charlie, to...he went to find me in that horrible dungeon after only knowing me a matter of weeks, that's..." She huffs out a breath, confused and sorrowful and already growing furious at him. How dare he. How dare he do this to Sabrina.

She stops herself there; what Sabrina needs now is not rage, but sympathy and consolation. She can provide that, better than she can anything else. Rosie lets the other girl turn within the circle of her arms, and when they're face to face, she lets go of her only long enough to smooth back a fallen lock of her pale blonde hair. "He...no."

She thinks back on the times she'd seen him over the past week, trying to recall any change in his demeanor, any clue of something amiss. "We went to coffee last week, the day after...well, the day after everything with David," she says, her brow furrowing as she sorts through her memory of the afternoon. If there's anything missing, any gaps smoothed over by another's hand, she's as unaware of them now as she had been when they occurred. "I'd gotten the time wrong, thought we were meeting at one rather than two, but he was...we went to the boardwalk, spent some time on the beach. It was the same as it always is."

Rosie looks down at her friend, wishing she could do more, say more, fix everything the way Sabrina had when she'd charged into David's house. "He did seem...distant, maybe? When I saw him after the play, the night I went to watch him and Neil and Charlie. I thought he was just tired, or still a little caught up in, you know, being Oberon. Something like that."