nyota_uhura24 | [SOL! Verse - I Heard It Through The Grapevine]

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[SOL! Verse - I Heard It Through The Grapevine]

Finally it was Monday. Nyota usually went several days without seeing Jim during the week, but the wait between Saturday and Monday always felt like forever. Thankfully her father had mostly recovered from his illness and told her he didn't mind if she kept her weekly dinner date with “Anna.” She felt a little twinge of guilt every time someone used the name she'd invented to cover for her relationship with Jim, but as always she ignored it. She deserved her happiness.

Besides, she really needed to be out of the house tonight. Trent and his mother were coming over for dinner, and she'd been avoiding him since Saturday night, which was... Just what in the world was that? He usually managed the diner on weekdays, but because her father was ill he came in on Saturday night. After closing they found themselves alone in the kitchen, and while she was talking to him about Jim's music he tried to kiss her. She panicked and turned her head away, downright nauseated by the idea of anyone but Jim kissing or touching her. She knew about her father's hopes, of course, but had never known that Trent wanted any part in them. He apologized profusely when she told him how very improper it was, and she fled before he could say anything more.

She had been hoping to steal a few moments with Jim that night, but perhaps it was for the best that he was already gone when she left the kitchen. There could never be anyone in her heart but Jim, but she knew she'd have to reconsider her assumption that Trent opposed their marriage. But surely... surely he didn't actually want to marry her? They'd been close friends for so long that she thought of him as a cousin, almost a sibling. Maybe he was just trying to please their parents. She knew on some level that she'd have to figure it out eventually, but for now she just wanted to spend time with the man she loved. Smiling a little to herself and putting Trent far from her mind, she walked into Jim's building and took the elevator to the top floor, where she knocked quietly on the door.

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The growl that escaped him at her insistence that she loved him was quickly covered up with a glare directed at her feet. He'd been right, she did have the nerve to play innocent with him. Little did she know that every time she professed her love for him, she dug her own grave a little deeper. Just how much of an idiot did she take him for?

"What's wrong," he gritted out, spinning her in half a circle, then back again. "Is that you're not concentrating on the goddamn steps!" Once she'd returned to his arms, he stopped and steeped away with an irritated sigh, then moved over to the record player to stop the music. "Maybe we should try something simpler since you're obviously not up for doing your best today."

The angry noise he made caused her step to falter yet again, and of course at that moment he was glaring at her feet, which made it even more difficult to reclaim the rhythm. She all but winced at the criticism to her dancing, knowing full well that this had absolutely nothing to do with her being unable to follow the steps.

When he stepped away from her she was left gaping at him, trying to find in him the man she knew and seeing only anger. "I don't know how you expect me to concentrate and do my best when you're so obviously upset." She searched her mind for an explanation of his behavior. The last time she'd seen him everything had been fine. They'd exchanged a warm smile before she slipped into the kitchen to help Trent clean up, and she hadn't seen him since then. What had gone so wrong between then and now? Her mind fixated briefly on exactly what had happened in the kitchen - something she'd been too busy worrying about Jim to consider - but it wasn't as if anything had happened. She would never let someone who wasn't Jim kiss her. "Will you please just talk to me?"

"Upset?" he asked guilelessly, giving her a quizzical look. "What could I possibly be upset about?" It was as much of a chance for her to come clean with him about her and Trent as he was willing to give her. If she still insisted on feigning ignorance, then all bets were off.

Keeping his back to her, he slipped the record into its sleeve, then returned it to the shelf and ran his finger over the backs of the other ones, searching for something dark, Russian, and suitable for a waltz. A grim smile tugged at his lips when his finger landed on Prokofiev. The Cinderella Waltz would do nicely for this. He placed the pickup in the right groove, then turned to face her, once more holding out his hand to her. "You do still remember the waltz, don't you?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking," she replied, a hint of hysteria creeping into her voice. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't just tell her what the problem was when it so obviously existed. Her mind was still racing for an explanation, and once again landed on her conversation with Trent. But it wasn't as if Jim was there, and it wasn't as if there was anything going on between them. She still didn't know why he'd tried to kiss her, but she hadn't let him.

"Of course I remember," she said, stepping closer and putting her hand in his as she assumed the stance. She didn't feel much like dancing, but he was refusing to communicate with her any other way. "It's the first dance you showed me." They'd danced in the kitchen the first night they met, with her sisters snickering in the background, and she'd been irresistibly drawn to him even then.

Lowering his eyes so she wouldn't see the flash of anger and hurt that her continued denial brought about, he took her hand and assumed the correct stance. This waltz was a good deal faster than what he'd taught her before, but it shouldn't be too difficult for her to follow along. She looked so confused, and he had to give it to her, she played her part flawlessly. From the timbre of her voice to the slight wetness in her eyes. It was truly worth an Oscar. But then again, everything between them so far must have just been an act to her. It really shouldn't surprise him that this was, too.

"Mm, it was," he nodded, a humorless chuckle rumbling in his chest. She wasn't the only one with flair for the dramatic, and it was so exquisitely and painfully poetic that their first dance should also be their last. "Still, I figured you could use the practice. Wouldn't want you to get the steps wrong on your big day, would we?" And only now did he meet her eyes, a saccharine smile on his lips matching the thinly veiled venom of his words.

The waltz was an easy enough dance to follow, and they'd danced it often enough that she could move with him, but somehow it felt so discordant with the music. As if they were hitting all the wrong notes. Her heart was racing, the lump in her throat almost too painful to swallow around, and he was still wasn't answering her questions. So few things in her world felt truly good and happy and right, and although her family couldn't know they were together, Jim had always been one of them. Until now.

The poisonous words combined with the obvious fury and hurt in his eyes when he finally looked at her caused her to stumble, and this time she couldn't make herself dance any more. Not when things between them were so wrong. "What big day? Jim, what are you talking about?"

Easily catching her when she stumbled, he didn't let her stop dancing, only slowed down as the music faded along with his smile. In the few seconds of silence between the numbers on the record, he paused to pull her close against him and rest his cheek against hers. It was so intimate, and so close to what he'd wanted, thought he had, and then lost that he closed his eyes with a sigh as the music started again. "That, my sweet, lovely Nyota," he muttered, then began to lead her in a slow dance, his lips moving closer to her ear. "Is a question you'd best ask your fiance about. Or would he be too upset knowing you'd already let someone have a taste of you?"

Her feet faltered, and it was obvious she didn't want to keep dancing, but he pulled her tighter against him, forestalling any interjections she might make. "Don't. Not a word. I don't wanna hear it, okay? Don't you dare take this away from me, too. Now..." Swallowing hard, he nuzzled against her temple, letting himself indulge in her scent one last time. "We're going to finish this dance, and then, you're going to put on your coat, walk out that door, and never come here again. When this song ends, I never want to see your face again."

She tried to stop dancing, but he pulled her along with him. Normally having him so close against him would feel like love and desire, but now she felt trapped in his embrace, unable to see his face and unable to find either her footing or her words.

...You'd best ask your fiance. There was a split second where she still didn't understand... and then she did, with horrible, agonizing clarity. Her eyes went wide as she stumbled again, but he held her tighter. For the first time since Christmas being in his arms frightened her, but this hurt so much more deeply than anything else ever had.

She opened her mouth to explain, but he wouldn't let her, so she continued to stumble through the steps, the nuzzling making her heart beat a painfully fast, jarring rhythm. She could scarcely move through the hurt and panic. It isn't like that her heart protested. There's no one but you. There's never been anyone but you. I love you. And now she was losing him to her family's plans, plans she'd been too cowardly to openly oppose.

She couldn't take the dance away from him, but the moment the music faded she pulled back to look at him, the words tumbling rapid fire from her lips. "Trent isn't my fiance! Our parents want us to get married, but I've never wanted any part of it! He's never asked me and I certainly wouldn't say yes if he did. I love you and no one else."

Every step combined with the melancholy violin was as agonizingly perfect as he's imagined it would be when he'd spent the small hours of the morning planning how their last meeting would go. Thankfully, she had the good grace to let him have his say in how things ended, and he let himself get lost in the music and the moment. She'd probably never know just how deeply she'd hurt him, and he sure as hell wasn't going to clue her in on that. His heartache, his grief, would be his and his alone. He'd get over it somehow, he usually did when given enough time.

As the last notes of the song faded, he let go of her and turned away to let her leave in silence. But apparently, she had other ideas, and as she started speaking, he flinched, moving to brace his hands on the kitchen counter lest he do something he'd regret.

"You just couldn't do it, could you? You couldn't let me end this my way, you deceitful, lying bitch!" His voice rose with each word, the last one being spat out loudly, a wave of renewed fury making his arms tremble as he fought for composure. "I saw him kiss you, dammit! I heard it from your brother! I've seen the way he looks at you, how he was all over you on New Years! Now get out!"

She winced when he shouted at her, momentarily struck speechless again by the force of his anger. Part of her wanted to flee, but there was no way in hell she was going to walk away without a fight. She had to find a way to make him understand that she loved him, that she could never love anyone but him, and that she could never, ever love Trent. He was far too important for her to give up on, even when he was screaming at her to leave. It was far too easy to imagine the way Kamau must have told him, and the thought of him rubbing her supposed engagement in Jim's face turned the knife she was certain had pierced her heart. Losing him and knowing she'd hurt him was breaking her to pieces.

"If you saw him try to kiss me, then didn't you see that I didn't let him!? I turned my head away because I couldn't let him kiss me. I could never let anyone kiss me but you. I doubt he even wants to marry me, but it doesn't matter because I'm not marrying him! He's like a cousin to me. I could never, ever love him. And I'm not leaving until you listen to me, because I love you! I've never loved anyone but you."

With his breath coming in small, harsh pants, he blinked furiously to clear his eyes of the hot, angry tears that stung at them, stubbornly refusing to let her see that she'd caused anything but anger in him. How could she still say those things? How could she still tell him she loved him when she was already engaged to someone else? Desperately searching for some kind out emotional outlet, his fist connected with the overhead cupboard as he let out a hoarse, pained growl. "Fuck!" The emphatic curse was both a reaction to what she said, and to the pain that shot up his arm.

For a few more panted out breaths, he stared at his now bloodied hand, then turned to face her, his head spinning with the burning desire to believe her, and his better judgment telling him not to. "Enough, okay? I've had enough! Don't fucking lie to me anymore! What am I supposed to believe when every time I see him, he's leering at you, huh? When I see the two of you having an intimate tête a tête, and him leaning in for a kiss? When your brother tells me it's okay, that the bastard is allowed to put his hands all over you, because you're practically married to Trent already?! Don't-- don't do this, okay? Just go!"

She gasped when his fist slammed into the cupboard, instinctively taking a step towards him when she registered the blood on his hand. She wanted desperately to take his hand in hers and tend to it, but he obviously wouldn't welcome her touch now. The fact that she'd now caused him physical pain broke her heart all over again and made her unable to hold back the tears that had been swimming in her eyes. They started to pour silently down her cheeks. Her first instincts had been correct: she'd brought him nothing but pain and grief. Perhaps she'd be doing him a favor by walking out the door, but she couldn't do it. Maybe it was selfish, but no matter what the consequences were she couldn't leave him. Not unless he physically threw her out the door.

"NO! I'm not lying to you! I - I haven't noticed him leering at me, but when we were in the kitchen I was trying to talk to him about your music. I was trying to tell him how perfect you were for the diner. I didn't know he was going to try to kiss him. He's never done that before, and he doesn't put his hands all over me! We danced on New Year's, and that's it, because we're not engaged. If my brother said we are then he's wrong - he would say anything he thought might annoy you. I won't deny that my family wants me to marry him, but it's never been what I wanted! Even if I'd never met you I could never have married him. And now that I have, there could never be anyone for me but you. Do you really think I would risk so much to be here if I was planning to marry someone else? If I didn't love you? I'm so sorry I've hurt you Jim, but I love you. I love you so much."

Edited 2011-04-20 10:36 (UTC)

Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep breath and stubbornly fought the way his chin wanted to quiver, the way his chest and throat tightened at her words and the sight of her tears. The last thing he'd ever wanted to do was hurt her, and that was exactly what he was doing right now. And while a part of him clung desperately to his anger, to the feelings of betrayal, he wanted nothing more than to believe what she was telling him.

The breath stuck in his throat when he exhaled and opened his eyes again, his voice relatively calm by some miracle. "If you have no intention of marrying him, then why does your family still believe you will, hm? If you never agreed to it, then why did he think he could get away with kissing you? Why haven't you told your family that you don't want to marry him, when they obviously think the match is already made? Who's your plan B here, me, or him?"

She watched him struggle with his emotions, hoping and praying and wishing with all her heart that her words reached him. There was so much uncertainty between them, and even if he believed her it wouldn't all go away, but the prospect of losing him made her feelings more clear than they'd ever been before. She would never willingly go back to a life without him in it.

He was asking very reasonable questions, and the calmness in his voice both chilled her insides and made it easier for her to reason with him. Please, please listen to me. "I should have made it clear to everyone, but I always thought that when our parents really started to pressure us Trent would agree with me that we shouldn't get married, and that if we agreed our parents would have to listen. I swear to you Jim, I had no idea he would try to kiss me. And you have to understand... Before you came along my family was all I had, so yes, I thought it was easier to wait, but I should have told them. There is no plan B. There's only you. And if you won't have me I - I still won't be able to marry him. I can't marry someone else when the only one in my heart is you."

"How--" he started, then had to stop and take a second to calm himself to prevent his voice from breaking. "How can you not have noticed the way he looks at you? He doesn't look at you like a cousin, he looks at you like you belong to him. He looks at you like-- like he's just biding his time until he gets you into his bed, like it's his right to have you in his bed, and it makes me sick to even think about."

The mental images of her with Trent, of him kissing her and touching her the way he'd been the first to do had haunted him ceaselessly since he'd seen them together in the kitchen. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Trent was attracted to her, and it was hard for Jim to believe she'd really never noticed.

"Nyota, I-- I can't do this. There's only so much pain a man can take before he reaches his breaking point and I-- I've had more than my fair share in my life. I have lost everyone I've ever cared about. If I'm going to lose you too, then please, please, I beg you, walk out that door right now and never look back. While I can still convince myself I'll get over it."

The way he talked about Trent made her falter momentarily in her single-minded attempt to convince Jim that she loved only him. Of course Trent's attempted kiss was a bit of a wake-up call, but now her mind raced over the course of their acquaintance, and suddenly seemingly friendly touches and looks took on a different meaning. Her mouth went painfully dry, a slight chill of fear running down her spine at the idea of Trent thinking that she was his, that he had a right to kiss her, that he had a right to... The very thought made her stomach lurch nauseatingly. At one time, before Jim's touches, she had vaguely considered agreeing to the marriage, but now that she knew what it would entail she also knew with absolute certainty that it would never work. "I didn't know," she echoed. "We've been friends since childhood. I could never feel that way for him, so I assumed that he didn't either... I... I'm not his. I could never be his," she insisted, as much for herself as for him.

The next words made her eyes snap to Jim's. It had long been obvious to her that he'd lost a lot, that he had hurt more than anyone ever should. Trent was still an issue, but it was more than that. She'd gone into this relationship knowing they didn't have all the answers. Someday someone would find out. Images filled her mind of her father and brother's anger and disappointment, of her sisters and little Ikinya's hurt and confusion, but... But I love him. I will always love him. "You're not going to lose me, Jim," she said quietly, earnestly. "I don't know how to make my family accept it, but being with you makes me happy in a way I never knew I could be. I hate that I've hurt you. I never want to hurt you, but I don't know how to stop loving you. I don't know how to walk away from you."

For a moment, he wondered if she was really so naive as to think that because she felt a certain way, Trent felt the same, simply because they'd known each other for so long. It didn't really seem possible, but then again, there were a lot of things about her that he hadn't thought possible.

When she stayed, despite his explicitly given reasons that she should leave, he prayed to whatever deity might exist that she wasn't doing it out of some selfish need to prove a point to herself. That she did it because she really did love him, and that she'd weather whatever storms they'd face when her family found out about them.

His eyes met hers, and he nodded slowly, not knowing what else to do. As much as he wanted to keep doubting her, he loved her too much to let her go against her will. "I want you to tell Trent in no uncertain terms that you have never, and will never have any intentions of marrying him. I want you to make it clear to your family that you have no intentions of marrying him. You don't have to tell them about me, it's best that you don't, but I don't want there to be any doubt about your relationship with Trent."

It felt foolish now to not have noticed Trent's feelings. Now that she understood the way Jim usually looked at her, she could recall the same expressions on Trent's face. But while Jim's love and desire made her feel the same, Trent's continued to make her slightly nauseous. She had tried to fool herself into not noticing because it was easier that way. It was going to be a lot more difficult to stand against their parents if Trent wasn't on her side... but she would. There were some things she couldn't compromise on.

She nodded slowly at Jim's request. "I will," she promised, completely serious and admittedly a little terrified by the prospect. "I should have done it ages ago. And I'm - I'm 21. I'm sure I'll be hearing about it soon anyway. I think my father knows I don't want to marry him, but he's always assumed that I'd still do it... for the family. Kamau doesn't want the diner, and Dad doesn't want to leave it to him, so he'll probably leave it to Trent instead..." She swallowed hard and nodded again. "I'll tell Trent I'm not going to marry him. And then... then I'll tell my dad."

At her reassurances, he nodded slowly, the tightness in his chest dissipating a little. "Okay..." It wasn't okay, not really, not until she'd actually done it. But he knew how hard a decision it was for her to make, how much her family meant to her, and how painful it would be for her to go against their wishes.

Dropping his gaze to his feet, he let himself believe that there was a small shimmer of hope for them, however vague and fleeting it might seem at the moment. "You know I'd be there with you if I could. If it wouldn't do more harm than good. I'd stand by you when you tell them. I will stand by you if you ask me to, regardless of the consequences."

Okay... She exhaled slowly, and for the first time since she'd walked into the room she felt as if she could breathe again. The pain and tension was still thick around them, but he seemed to believe her. At least he wasn't asking her to leave anymore. She wanted to desperately to hug and kiss him and tend to his injured hand, but she wasn't sure he'd welcome it.

When he promised to stand by her a few more tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, and her voice cracked as she replied. "God, you have no idea how much I wish I could walk up to my father holding your hand and tell him that I love you... But I can't." She took a shuddered breath, forced herself to continue. Confronting her family wouldn't be easy, but Jim was worth every ounce of fight she had in her. "I'll know that you're standing by my side even if you're not there, but I have to do this myself. And I will... Believe in me. Please."

A small, sad smile ghosted across his face, and he looked up at the ceiling, blinking repeatedly at the thought of being able to just go to her father and ask for her hand. Of being accepted into the family as the man she loved, of having her father give him a half-teasing warning and a pat on the back.

"Actually, Nyota, I think I do have a pretty good idea about it." For someone who never planned ahead more than a day or two, the thought of forever with her had become a terrifyingly frequent daydream. They might never get their happily ever after, there would be too many fights down the line for that, but perhaps, they could just have the 'ever after' part. Bringing his hand up to run his fingers through his hair, he exhaled slowly, some of all the tension draining away, then sucked in a sharp breath. Oh. Right. He'd almost forgotten about his bleeding and now rather swollen knuckles. "I, uh--" He huffed out a small, almost inaudible laugh and stared at his hand like it had just sprouted from his arm. "I think I hurt my hand a little."

Her heart did a little flip in her chest when he said he had a pretty good idea what she was feeling. Her mind still couldn't grasp how they would work in the long run, but every time she imagined her future he was in it. Briefly images glimmered in her mind of marrying him, of having children with him, of growing old with him, of things she scarcely dared to dream of but didn't know how to stop wishing for. The saddest part of all of it was that the most insurmountable problem was something as insignificant as race. "I wish every day that I didn't have to pretend I'm not madly in love with you," she said quietly.

When he finally realized the state his hand was in she automatically stepped towards him and then paused, still uncertain how he was feeling towards her at the moment. "Can I... It needs to be tended to, Jim," she said, slowly walking closer and reaching for the injured hand.

"Yeah... You and me both," he added almost shyly, still looking down at his hand. Now that he'd noticed the damage, it really did kind of hurt. A lot. In the throbbing, stinging way. Wincing, he wiggled his fingers a little, testing their range of motion, just to make sure nothing was broken. It didn't seem to be, but it wasn't easy to tell with how swollen his knuckles had become.

When he looked up, she'd moved closer, and he hesitated for a second or ten, not quite sure how comfortable he was with her getting too close after the emotional rollercoaster he'd just been on. "There's, uh-- some iodine in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. It just needs to be disinfected and put on ice for a bit. Maybe get some tweezers, there might be some splinters stuck in there."

She swallowed around the lump in her throat when he agreed with her, still feeling as if she was treading on thin ice but immensely relieved that they seemed on their way back to the way things were for. But they weren't really going back; they were going forward. She was committed to the first of many undoubtedly painful steps to ensure that her family couldn't pry them apart.

She'd been keeping her worry about his hand in check throughout their argument, but now she looked at the bleeding and swelling with open concern. Very gently laying her hand on his wrist, she tried to urge him in the direction of the sink. "You should rinse the wound," she said softly, sensing his hesitation to her touch. "I'll get the iodine and tweezers." She managed a small smile and then walked towards the bathroom, returning a few moments later with the medical supplies.

It wasn't often he let himself indulge in such divulging displays of emotion, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd poured his heart out to someone the way he'd done to her today. The last time might have been to Sam, but the details of that conversation were fuzzy at best, thanks to copious amounts of alcohol. There was no alcohol involved now, and his earlier outbursts left him feeling exposed, every raw emotion out there for the world to see and stomp on.

So it was more because of the vulnerability he felt than any desire not to have her touch him that he sucked in a breath when she put her hand on his wrist. He hated feeling vulnerable. Hated it. "Mmm, good idea," he muttered, turning on the faucet in the kitchen sink then held his hand under it. As he listened to her steps retreating into the bathroom, and the sound of her rummaging around in his medicine cabinet, he stared vacantly down at the water trickling over his hand, and tried to just remember how to breathe again.

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