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Quentin’s head was still fuzzy, laying on the couch with Emily had taken the edge off the alcohol and weed buzz that he had previously been maintaining, the day had started out grey and droll just like the last few weeks had been.
Sat in his office trying to be alone, and most definitely not because he was sulking, the thought that he couldn’t even not to do magic properly, and more than that it had probably cost him the one friend he may have managed to make out in the ‘real world’. He most definitely did not in fact expect to see Emily stood in his door frame, and why did everyone think he was masturbating, what is wrong with this place! Although he would be lying if after the first suggestion the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. It took him a moment to realise she was swaying her eyes glassed over and more noticeably she seemed to have lost some of the gloom that always seemed to settle over her like a persistent dark cloud.
He was enjoying the company, as much as he enjoyed anything these days, talking about Alice did feel good after all this time to himself, he wasn’t sure the other knew where he was and honestly he had been trying his best not to think about it. He was beginning to think he should call it a night, head back to his 1 bedroom apartment and heat up some mundane and bland microwave meal, and yet he followed her through the park, coming to rest on a quiet spot by the water edge. Emily showed him a spell, a simple charm really it made him feel a flicker of warmth inside him no more than an ember, magic still held beauty to him even after everything he had seen, it just didn’t feel like enough anymore. But a horse, it couldn’t be a coincidence, the image of Alice’s small glass horse on that first day flashed before his eyes, of the hundreds of small glass horses that had filled her room that day they summoned what was left of Charlie to the fountain, sure it was beautiful and he had just enough of the mixture of alcohol and weed in his system to be able to push the memories back down and enjoy the magic in front of him, if he suddenly felt a cold shiver between his shoulder blades it was probably just a coincidence. Falling into Emily’s apartment felt, not right but not wrong either, he was allowed to have a little fun, to calm the storm inside his brain once in a while.
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A spell that gave you the image of the one you loved the most, Sober Quentin knew better, sober Quentin who had spent the last few weeks barely sleeping in order to ignore the images that his brain allowed to float to the surface 100% knew this was a bad idea, that it wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Emily was attractive though and as she let her clothes drop to the floor he felt himself stir, it had been a long time since he had been with another person, quickly pushing down the images of the last time he had found release with someone else or someones in this case, Margo wrapped around him as Eliot surged forwards, eyes glazed from emotion bottles and whiskey. Nope! those images were not allowed in his mind. He blinked rapidly and nodded to Emily, lifting himself off the sofa and following her into the bathroom.
It was now he found himself back on that sofa, sobriety dancing around the edges of his mind. His initial shock as he had seen himself or more accurately not himself in the mirror had also begun to settle, the numbness he had become accustomed to since losing Alice settling back over his brain like an uncomfortable but familiar sweater. He ruminated over the fact that he had become Mayakovsky if only in physical appearance, the awareness that his and Alice’s stories were inextricably linked even now, the woman he currently held in his arms in love with her teacher and at least in part responsible for Charlie’s death. Unfortunately that clarity also allowed him the memories of Alice, she never just laid with him always to jittery, too uncomfortable in her skin to really settle, her brain always too active to enjoy much peace. When had he really lost her, not when she had fired the spell that caused her brilliance to be stripped from the world that would always would always haunt him, but when had he lost her. Was it before they went to see her parents, was it then she had realised he wasn’t enough for her, or did it take seeing him naked and content wrapped in the limbs of another, had she known before then that his heart wasn’t ever able to fully be hers. Whatever had happened tonight had lowered his defences he had slowly been trying to build up, built of denial and a longing to be the person he though he should, mourning his lost love and paying his penance for his part in it.
Emily led him towards the shower, he knew this was a terrible idea, more so than before, before it was Emily who was really putting her vulnerabilities out there, he could hear his many therapists in his ear telling him to focus on the now, or the future, he felt like an addict knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself as he let Emily drag the tuts over her body muttering the spell and gazing up at him from beneath her lashes as she stepped back into the water. He took a deep breath to steady himself, was he ready to do this, to look into the eyes of the one he desired the most, he knew he was going to, from the first second he realised what this spell could do. He was also uncomfortably aware of the knot in his stomach, easily interpreted as fear but lying to himself tonight didn’t seem to be an option, his broken brain was more than happy to not only be acutely aware of his ugly emotions but happy to wield them like a lance through his mind. This feeling was guilt.
He heard Emily’s gasp from behind the curtain and knew what she was seeing, the living embodiment of exactly what he had been trying to avoid when he closes his eyes, stealing one last deep breath he closed his eyes and stepped behind the curtain knowing that after this he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his own ignorance anymore and entirely grateful that he didn’t have to see Penny anytime soon, his own internalised self hatred was more than sufficient without that arrogant prick inside his head, admittedly Quentin had warmed to him a little on the quest to find the White lady but he was still a smug bastard. Avoidance wasn’t going to help him here and like the coward he is he stepped into the shower. Feeling the hot water hitting him he looked up and opened his eyes, heart fluttering as they settled on the dark eyes that were staring back, mouth dropped into a surmised ‘O’ was the elegant lithe body of Eliot Waugh.
It took what felt like an age but it was realistically less than 10 seconds for Quentin to stumble back out of the shower, catching himself in the curtain and nearly falling over in the process. He span round “turn it off!” he almost shouted his voice desperately trying not to break. The water stopped and he heard movement which he guessed was Emily finding a towel, the door clicked and he was alone, alone again.
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“Quentin Coldwater” how could one voice convey so much disdain, it would have normally caused him to retreat into his shell but the gaze that looked him up and down was attached to the most beautiful man Quentin had ever seen.
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He sat on the cold floor of Emily’s bathroom until his hair had dried hanging limply around his head, he sighed deeply and pulled himself up from the ground recovering his clothes from the pile by the door, slipping his now crumpled suit on, ‘appropriate’ he thought a metaphor for how he felt inside. He let himself out of the bathroom to see Emily sat on the couch wrapped loosely in a towel and toking on a joint, she held it out to him. He took it.
“I’m sorry” it was weak, it really wasn’t Emily he should be apologising to, it was Alice who he had loved, who had died sacrificing herself for them, for him, at his suggestion that she take up the mantle of defeating the Beast. It was Eliot, who had been nothing but a good friend to him, Eliot who did not consent to have his body be manifested in a stupid drunken spell, Eliot who Quentin had deserted in Fillory when he threw away his wish from the White Lady in a petulant show of selfishness. Eliot.
Emily sighed, “Quentin, this is meant to be a cheat day, no one here cares about whatever repressed feelings you have. I mean I wasn’t expecting to look down and see a massive dick, and I mean, woah” Quentin blushed red and averted his eyes he wasn’t ashamed of his feeling toward Eliot in the way she assumed, the he-ness of it all wasn’t new, it was something Q was actually confident about, but Alice had barely been gone a month and it was this attraction that had caused them to finally break just before she died, after a pause Emily continued more kindly than before “You have seen the man I love, so trust me I am the last person who is going to judge you for whatever inappropriate feelings you think you have. Love is messy, and we my friend are both a mess.” With that she stood up plucked the joint from his hand and strutted towards the bedroom, “feel free to let yourself out.”
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As he took a step onto the Manhattan sidewalk Quentin expected to feel awful, he expected to metaphorically see Alice in his mind the same Alice who had sat at the end of Margo’s bed looking hurt and betrayed all those months ago. He had not expected to see a physical manifestation of Alice stood across the street from him looking broken and as if she was begging for his help.