Doug and Marie-Ange, this evening.

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Doug seeks out Angie to apoligize. Eight times, to be exact. Some clue is beaten into the boy's head, though he's still got this honesty streak that's going to get him in trouble someday. Oh. Wait. It just did.



Just prior to dinnertime, a brisk knock sounded at Marie-Ange's door.

Angie looked up from the book she had -tried- to immerse herself in unsuccessfully and called out. "The door is unlocked. Come in." She had half an idea of who it was, because any of her roommates would not have bothered knocking.

Doug opened the door and looked at Marie-Ange from the doorway, his heart in his throat. She looked...tired. Because of him, most likely. Doug firmly quashed the negative thought and concentrated on staying calm. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked quietly.

"No." Angie shook her head, and touched the pages of her book. "I was going to get a snack after I read for a while." She looked up at him slowly, watching his expression. "You .. can come in, Doug. Please."

Doug's expression remained fairly neutral, as he didn't want to lose control of his emotions right now, and they were roiling under the surface. "Actually, I was hoping you'd come with me," he replied, dangling a set of car keys.

Angie blinked, and set down her book. "Anywhere.. in particular, or... actually, it does not matter. Let me get a sweater.." She hopped off her bed to dig in her dresser for a moment, and then stood, pulling a bulky green sweater over her top.

Doug allowed Marie-Ange to precede him out the door and shut it behind them, and then walked with her towards the stairwell. His hand twitched as though he longed to take one of her hands in his, but he restrained himself, not sure how angry she was over the events of the past day or so.

Angie followed Doug down to the garage, nervous and tense, though she tried to keep her pace measured and even, and her arms at her sides, instead of folding them up like she wanted. At yet another twitch of Doug's arm, she sighed, and reached out to grab at his fingers. It wasn't the easy comfort of wrapping an arm around his waist, but it would do.

Doug threaded his fingers through Marie-Ange's and squeezed hesitantly, grateful to her for making that first small move. The knot in his chest loosened a little bit, as he began to believe that maybe things could be worked out. They arrived at the garage, and Doug opened the passenger door of the car he was borrowing for Marie-Ange before going around and entering himself.

Angie slid into the seat, and fidgeted with the belt, as a cover for fidgeting with everything else - her hair, her fingernails, her sweater. She tensed and loosened her fingers, trying to maintain at least the facade of calm. She thought it probably wasn't -working-, but it was something to do.

Doug didn't really have much attention to spare for Marie-Ange's nervousness, as he was trying to keep a firm rein on his own. He pulled the car out of the driveway smoothly and headed toward town. "I'm sorry," he began. "I was an idiot."

It was several seconds of uncomfortable silence before Marie-Ange could answer, and then, all the fear and nervousness and tiredness she had been trying to hide was obvious in her voice. "No, just .. " she paused for a moment to reorder her thoughts. "Okay, yes, you were, but it is something I can forgive."

At that, Doug's facade of calm sagged a bit as well, and all of _his_ fear, nervousness, and exhaustion showed through. "You can?" he asked tentatively, afraid that she might change her mind.

"I would be wrong to be angry just because of thoughts," Angie answered. "Especially if you are not angry because of .. what.. we talked about yesterday at the mall. "

Doug nodded slowly. "I am not angry because of what you told me about Manuel." He paused. "Well, okay, I'm a little angry at Manuel, but not at you." He sighed. "And I know in my head there's a difference between thinking and acting, but it's just kind of hard to separate the two sometimes in my heart. I feel...I dunno, dishonest, still having feelings for Marie, even though it takes nothing away from how much I love you." He gripped the wheel a bit tightly, still visibly angry with himself.

Angie leaned back in her seat, letting her head fall back. "You are not going to leave me for her?" she asked, in a small voice.

Doug glanced sharply over at Marie-Ange, and quickly grasped one of her hands in his and squeezed tightly. "No," he replied firmly. "Never. I love you so much, Angie," he whispered huskily, his leash on his emotion stretched to the breaking point.

"Then why did you just not tell me? You could have just -not said anything- and we would have been fine, Doug." Angie said, her voice holding -no- emotion, though she gripped his hand back, tightly.
Doug shook his head. "I don't know, Angie. It's like...I can't lie to you. And I _won't_ lie to Marie. I talked to her earlier. I...I was really scared that I'd screwed it up with both of you for a while there. Matter of fact, I don't know how she's doing. I think I kind of upset her too." He sighed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered almost under his breath.

Angie gripped Doug's fingers tighter, and answered in a low voice. "Not -saying- would not have been a lie, Doug. You do not have to tell everyone every little thing you think." She shook her head. "Why on earth did you think ... what.. . " Marie-Ange sighed, and switched to French, the words coming easier in her native language. "What on earth were you thinking? It isn't lying to just not -tell- someone something!"

Doug slowly pulled the car off on the shoulder and stopped it. "It would have felt...dishonest," he replied, turning to face Marie-Ange.

Marie-Ange closed her eyes, and let out a breath between clenched teeth. "It would have felt dishonest to just -not- tell me you still had feelings for Marie? You could have waited, you could have talked to someone else first, you could have ... " She ran her hands through her hair, trying to keep her fingers from balling into fists. "You could have said something when I asked you out, or when I kissed you, or ... God, Doug, you ... you could have at least said -then- that it did not matter, and not have let me worry all night."

Doug's eyes screwed shut, trying to hold back tears. "I know, I know, I _know_, Angie. I'm sorry," he murmured brokenly. "I'm so sorry..."
Angie let out a ragged sigh, and loosened her grip on Doug's hand. "God, please.. please do not do that. I do not know how to help this time, and ... " She sighed. "I do not know what to do. I have no idea."

Doug shook his head. "Don't do what? Apologize? It's all I can do right now. I really screwed up, and I'm sorry."

"You made a mistake. It is -not- the end of the world. It is not.. the end of anything." Angie sighed. "Please, just don't sound so doomed."

Doug dashed a hand against his eyes angrily. "Sorry. Didn't mean to overreact," he whispered.

For a moment, Angie mentally counted the apologies Doug had made in her head, and set a personal limit at eight. At eight, she was just going to have to do something drastic. She sighed, and let her fingers fidget with her hair again. "I .. I wish I knew how to make this better, and how to make it so that you knew what not to say and why it is not lying to just not -say-, and I just do not know what to do or say, and I just do not to lose you. Not to Marie, and not to your own feeling stupid either. No running away, remember?"

Doug nodded. "No running away," he agreed softly. "But it's so tempting. So hard not to."

Marie-Ange took a deep breath, and screwed her eyes shut for a minute. "You do not have any reason to run. I am not going to give up on you, and if you tried, I would .. " She opened her eyes, and turned to look at him. "I am not letting you run away again. I did not the first time you tried, I am especially not now. I have more reason to stop you now than I did then."

Doug blinked. "You do?" He looked confused. "Why?"

Angie met Doug's eyes. "The first time, you were my friend. Now.. " She shrugged. "Now, it is not just friends. I love you, I am not letting you run away just because you are scared."

Doug leaned across the center console, opening his arms tentatively to Marie-Ange. "I love you too, Angie. I'm sorry that...I'm sorry for all of this."

Marie-Ange sighed, and leaned over to awkwardly hug Doug. "You do not have to tell me every little thing, Doug. Just the important things."

Doug nodded and hugged back fiercely. "I guess I just don't know what's important and what's not, so I just blurt everything out. Plus, the whole 'heart on my sleeve' thing." He sniffled and wiped his nose with a corner of his sleeve. "Sorry for being such a mess."

"That was eight. No more apologizing." Angie whispered. "I told myself I was not going to let you apologize constantly, because after so many, it would solve nothing. I know you are sorry." She squirmed one arm out of the tight hug, and rested it on Doug's cheek. "No more apologies tonight." she said quietly, before kissing him gently.

Doug whimpered at the soft brush of Marie-Ange's lips against his, and kissed back hesitantly after a moment.

After a minute, Angie pulled away gently, and let her hand leave Doug's cheek. "No more 'I'm sorry"? It does not help much after the fourth or fifth time, really."

Doug nodded, still rather bemused by Marie-Ange's kiss. "It's just my first reaction in any given situation. I'm s..." he caught himself and chuckled wryly at the irony of apologizing for being apologetic.

Angie brushed a kiss over Doug's mouth briefly at his almost-apology, and smiled softly. "First reactions are rarely the best ones." she said, her voice an eerie imitation of Ms. Frost's. "I know what you mean by it, I think. It is just ... not necessary again tonight."

Doug tried to smile normally. "Oh? And what _is_ necessary tonight, then, mon coeur?"

Marie-Ange smiled, and made as if to answer, before her stomach let out a quiet rumble. She blushed, and covered her face with her hands. "Dinner, I think, and perhaps I will die of embarrassment now." She said quietly.

Doug shook his head. "No, no death on the schedule tonight. Dinner it is." He started the car, put it into gear, and pulled back into traffic, smiling over at Marie-Ange.