@drxmxtispersonxe and @emilesmuseassembly from [x]
It's still difficult leaving the apartment sometimes. There's a part of her that expects it to shift when her back is turned, even now -- like the moment she looks away the illusion will break, reality will remember that what they've done is impossible and will set it all back to rights. One day her key won't fit in the lock and the last months will have been erased in an instant, and she'll be the only one left remembering how it was all supposed to turn out.
Truthfully, it makes her equally nervous when Alan or Tom steps out without her, too. It's slightly better when they're together, though that comes with its own risks. But Alice wants to believe that one will tether the other, ground them here in this version of the world they've only just started carving out for themselves. That simmering need to control bubbles up inside her again when she asks Zane to come home and keep an eye on Alan. It renders fixed objects of them both, a pin set in the corkboard of her mind until she chooses to move it again.
And yet there is still a doubt that they'll be where she left them.
The world doesn't stop, though. Not for anxiety or grief or anything else. She needs a haircut, and she needs to drop off another stack of paperwork at the bank that archaically refuses so much as a fax, and she swings by a few leasing offices on her way home just to pick up some more glossy brochures. She skims them on the subway, tosses one that boasts updated rain showers but no tubs in a trashcan at her stop. Texts Alan right after, feels something in her chest unclench when he responds -- maybe too quickly, but she suspects they'll always be measuring the span from one second to the next like a gulf between them.
She thinks about picking up dinner on the way home, but reminds herself that these things aren't up to just her anymore. It's been an adjustment in itself learning to live with people again. Take other opinions into account. First one, then two, dividends beyond those years spent in Parliament Tower alone. Another adjustment -- the walk from the subway stop to their cramped apartment. Gone is the luxury of practical door to door service. She thought about calling the Parliament Tower office, seeing if they had any openings. Maybe not their apartment, but something similar. Bright and with too many rooms. But when she really thought about it the idea curdled in her stomach. They need something new.
The weather is nice enough, at least, and she's not too far removed from the Dark Place to take the sun on her face for granted. She covers the blocks quickly, feels her pace quickening further as she takes the stairs up to their unit at a brisk step. The effect is that she's almost panting when she reaches the door -- no spiral adornment, just a slightly tarnished number -- but she holds her breath until the key slides in and the door opens without protest.
Alice crosses the threshold and exhales, draws in the nondescript air of home. She tosses her keys in the bowl by the door, notes with some relief that they land among two other sets. She toes off her shoes, leaves her bag on a hook between other jackets now approaching unseasonable. The relative silence is... troubling. She moves towards the living area, kitchen and living room rolled into one, and it's only when she sees them both on the couch that Alice really allows herself to relax.
It takes an additional beat for the scene to register. Alan's turning an impressive shade of embarrassed, and Zane is perched on his lap like he belongs there. Both of their attentions have shifted to her in a way that makes all her worries and insecurities fall away. Sometimes she thinks she's looking for an us where there is only a them, or an I, or a him. But it takes little to dispel that, to remind her that this is real because they've made it so. All three of them, together.
"I thought I told you to behave yourself," she says with a raised brow that's tempered by her smirk. She sets the brochures down on the kitchen table with a put-on sigh. "Here I am doing all the work while you two have all the fun."
The benefit to close quarters living is that they're never far from each other. Alice moves from the table to the couch in only a few steps, leans in to kiss Zane and then over and around him to kiss Alan. Her focus lingers on her husband just a beat longer, searching for signs of genuine distress. But other than the color staining his face, there's nothing that suggests he's anywhere but exactly where he wants to be.
And Zane, as always, remains the proverbial cat who got the canary.
"But I guess I can't be too upset when my favorite show is on." Her smile softens as she runs her fingers through Zane's hair. "I was thinking about dinner, but maybe I can be convinced to save my appetite for something else."
