Brewing anger [Cadmus, Dominic, Edita & Gwyn]

Even after the walk to pick up the paper, and half a pot of coffee, Cadmus felt exhausted. That, and he still had a headache. Only now, whenever he reached for his cup it was with slightly shaky hands and an increasing restlessness. Insomnia, a blow to the head, nicotine withdrawal, and an excessive amount of caffeine; mixed together this was the result: a blur of printed letters spread out on the dining table in front of him, and a slippery mind. He was working his way through the physical copy of Cirrane Press Society, trying to process the words of Irene Ford; or really, his own and Dominic’s words and the way she had spun them. Not trusting his ability to think all that clearly, he had not decided what to make of it yet. Now, continuing on through the paper, he was more so pretending to read to avoid any what happened to you?-s. Questions that constituted the exact kind of small-talk he could do without this morning, and although it would have been impossible, even in the dim, natural light, to miss how he was freshly adorned with a black eye, the questions remained unspoken by the residents at the EFA headquarters.

He would have preferred it too, if he could have avoided Dominic. But since the insistence last night that nothing was the matter, it would have looked suspicious if Cadmus outright ignored his friend. So he had swallowed his pride and had gone about his morning as usual. Even sitting facing the room; just to prove he had nothing to hide. And it had not been that bad. Perhaps it had been Dominic’s decision not to bring the topic up, that kept everyone else from doing so. If so, running into him last night might not have been altogether bad. Or maybe the article in front of him, which most of the room had already read digitally, had taken preface over cosmetic blemishes.

Perhaps it would really be this easy, Cadmus thought, emptying his cup, and looking up towards the kitchen where Dominic was making more coffee. To forget and move on. He was good at pretending, and now he did not even have to, there really was something more important to focus on; he just had to get out of his mind. And into Dominic’s? No, that wouldn’t be necessary; that man’s tension was visible to everyone in the room; and Iosta knew he had reasons enough to be stressed. He had always had, but now with the article, and potential reactions, and Gwyn. Gwyn who, Cadmus realised, was not present. Her absence explained some. With so much going on, Cadmus should be concerned with containing problems, not causing them; and, he folded up the paper; the least he could do was play his part with enthusiasm.

A heavy air seemed to surround Dominic, and it hadn’t cleared up since he had left his room. His entire demeanor exuded tension, from his clenched jaw and furrowed brow to his taut muscles and movements. Even the way he poured his coffee; his hand tightly gripping the pot's handle as if he wanted to break it. It quivered slightly as he tipped it over to fill up his cup.
Even the smallest motion was made with a tense control, as if he had to keep himself in check. What happened if he didn’t, Dominic didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to find out.  

None of the refugees had spoken to him yet. Dominic wasn’t sure if they just hadn’t had a reason to do so or if they were actively avoiding him due to his brooding. He was rarely in such a bad mood, the dark bag under his eyes and disheveled hair giving him an extra gloomy look. He was aware that he probably looked like someone to steer clear of. Or like a mess. Probably both. Dominic knew this; he just didn’t care. He had fully lost the energy to be mindful of his demeanor.

He stayed in the kitchen and took a sip of his coffee, his third cup this morning. Meanwhile, he checked the time on his phone. He had done so several times since entering the room, and each time, his chest clenched tighter. He was waiting, steeling himself for the moment Gwyn could enter the apartment, which could be at any given moment now. Feeling the need to be prepared, he went through various scenarios, contemplating how to confront her and trying to predict her possible reactions. He had done so over and over again, cooped up in his own mind, his brows only sinking deeper and deeper towards the point between them. And every time he checked the time, the tension inside of him grew, as well as his worry. Had he known about the Godia Warriors, he would never have let her go out today. What if something happened? And why was he so fucking concerned?

And then there was Cadmus, sitting at the dining table with his black eye and his newspaper. They had exchanged hardly any words, most of them being about the article being out, which Cadmus was currently reading through. Dominic wasn’t sure if they were back to normal. He wasn’t back to normal himself, so he had no way of interpreting their dynamic. Cadmus acted his usual way, even with the black eye appearing darker today than the night before, and Dominic had decided that he wouldn’t worry, so he didn’t. He had enough to worry about.

He checked the time again, his mouth a thin displeased line, before putting the phone in his front pocket. With the coffee pot in one hand and his own cup in the other, he walked towards the dining table to join his friend. His eyes landed on the Ford-paper, but his gaze was unfocused. He should ask Cadmus about his thoughts on the article. As he put down the pot and cup, he asked: ”Do you know what time Gwyn left for groceries?”

He rested his elbow on the table and kneaded his forehead, his eyes shut in a peeved expression. His headache was getting worse. He was rarely this tired, and when he dealt with this level of exhaustion, he became more sensitive to the Spirits of the others present. It was vague, barely detectable, and he was only affected by the refugees, not Cadmus in front of him. Still, it was a constant backdrop of stimulus, as well as a constant reminder of how he was able to feel such things. And he was in no mood to be reminded of that.

When Dominic returned from the kitchen with a fresh brew, Cadmus had expected him to strike up a conversation about conversations with the EFA. No doubt, the interview and the question with which Irene had ended her article: What does the future entail for the thousands of Nachons who are estimated to be living within Ilomar? was their top priority. So it was surprising when he brought up something entirely different instead; Gwyn. Did Cadmus know when she had left for the groceries?

“No–” He said slowly, careful to mask his initial disbelief, “must have been while I was out.” He tapped the paper lightly in case his words needed explanation, although Dominic was sitting with his eyes closed and wouldn’t be able to see it. By the looks of it, Cadmus was not the only one having a tough morning. Or a headache.
As much as this wasn’t the right time for Dominic to get distracted–watching Dominic right then, slumping over the table and his coffee, looking tired and strained–perhaps he needed that distraction. Now, had Gwyn only been less a source of annoyance, and more of– Cad wasn’t sure, recreation? It might have been alright. Instead, Gwyn seemed to be a source of stress in more ways than one. At least that relieved Cadmus of some guilt. Besides, any topic that wasn’t about last night was good. He folded his paper back out, “I am sure she will be back soon.”

Oh, right, Cad had been out too. To pick up the newspaper, to read the article. That freaking article.
Dominic really should ask him about it. But would he even be able to take in his response? Dominic could barely hear his answer about Gwyn over his own thundering thoughts.

“Hm,” he just said, recognizing Cadmus’ attempt to ease his worries while not being able to hide his displeasure over how obvious his worrying was. He opened his eyes and glanced at the paper again, this time trying to focus on the upside-down letters. He had read the article enough times to know from memory, and seeing it printed black-on-white left a more bitter taste in his mouth than his coffee managed to do. However, he could either look at that or at Cadmus’ black eye, and neither option left him feeling like he had a handle on the current circumstances.

At least he had a plan regarding how to deal with Gwyn. When she got home – which hopefully would be soon – he would tell her to go into his room for a talk, and from there he would tell her what Cassius had said and express his dismay. He would scold her, of course, her keeping such things from him was a danger to the whole EFA, but he would make it clear why such transparency was necessary. And he would stay clear of anything personal or related to him or their relation. He was the leader of the EFA, no one else. Though, he barely felt like a leader right now; instead he felt like no one at all.

“I need to talk to her,” he told Cadmus after a moment of silence between them. He was still rubbing his forehead, but now his eyes were locked on the newspaper in Cadmus’ hands, “When she went out with Cass the other day, she nearly got caught by Godia Warriors. Apparently one of them was the same one who had interrogated her at ICU. But she didn't tell me about it.”

His voice was murmured, strained, as if he were trying to hold back the feelings attached to his words. He failed; his bitterness, his worry, his frustration, all of it could be heard. He was aware of that, and he hated it.

“So,” he said, making sure to reveal less with his tone from now on. He let go of his head to straighten his back and cross his arms instead, “I’m gonna have to talk to her about that. I just need her to get home first.”

Why was he even telling Cadmus all of this? Cadmus probably couldn’t care less, he was holding the more important subject in his hands right now. Dominic tried to tell himself that it was because it was a matter of the EFA’s safety and that it was important for Cadmus to be in the loop when it came to that, but he knew that was only half the truth. Whatever. Dominic didn’t have the energy to reflect on it. He was saving his last bit of energy for the moment the door would open up and Gwyn would enter.

Unsure whether Dominic meant to be this obvious about his worry towards Gwyn, Cadmus had once again found the article. This gave him another shot at trying to make sense of it, while also giving his friend an easy out; a chance to drop the Gwyn-topic. It was not that Cadmus didn’t care about the man sitting across the table from him. He did. He just didn’t care much for his private life. Keeping a mostly professional relationship made him feel less guilty about his own dishonesty. He was surely not going to open up about anything, anytime soon. So, despite the displeasure in Dominic’s initial ‘hm’ response, Cadmus took it as a sign to go on reading.

But the Gwyn-topic did not end there. Dominic spoke again, and Cadmus, who had come as far as: ’Nachon. An otherwise taboo topic that seems to be the subject of much discussion these days. Sadistic and cruel, the image of the Nachon as the face of true evil is rampant and the source of much fear within our society.’, did the polite thing and looked up. Instead of meeting his eyes Dominic had his attention focused on the paper. Fair enough, Cad thought, Dom had to keep anchored somehow; especially because the need to talk to Gwyn wasn’t as silly as one might have imagined. She had almost been seen, by one of the Godias who had interrogated her before her arrival at the EFA, yesterday when she was out with Cass, AND she hadn’t told anyone about it, but had gone out for groceries today too. For once, Dominic’s anger seemed pretty justified. Wasn’t this exactly what he himself had worried about when Idés had brought her? Her compromising their safety? Didn’t she understand how she was bringing everyone else in danger? He wasn’t worked up over it, not in the same way Dominic was, but he had to admit it was annoying; they had a lot of stuff to worry about as it was… He had intended to agree with Dom – he should talk to her later– but he had barely opened his mouth before the door swung open and the words he did say were: “Speak of the devil.”

Her fingers were red, despite the fact that she was only carrying half of the weight of the groceries she’d bought. The plastic of the bags was cutting into her fingers and it didn’t matter how many times she had switched her bags around, the redness didn’t subside nor did the feeling of her fingers being cut off. It likely wouldn’t for another hour or so before both the sensation and the redness would be gone. Gwyn felt bad for Edita too, because her hands probably looked the same. With HQ just a few yards away from them, she turned to the other girl.
‘’Do you want something to drink when we’re inside? I’ve bought some juice and sodas and I think we’ve got some tea in one of the cupboards. We got coffee too, if you prefer that.’’ It only seemed fair that she offered Edita something to drink after she hauled half of Gwyn’s groceries from Cescos to HQ.

Opening the thick blue metal doors that led to the old reception area of the building, or at least that was what she’d overheard once, she said a soft 'after you' and waited for Edita to enter too before she let the door fall closed behind her. The whole building used to be a factory but it had been partially rebuilt after the EFA took residence in it. The actual factory remained much the same, or so Gwyn assumed. She hadn’t taken a look yet because Dominic had not let her out of the apartment until recently. Recently being yesterday, when she had gotten permission to take Cassius out for lunch to apologise to him. While he had accepted her apology, the whole thing still seemed to have backfired on her. Insert the Godia warrior that had questioned her in the greenhouse. Gwyn still hoped that Cassius had not told Dominic about the whole thing, but it was more realistic that he had. She hadn’t seen Dominic yet, so there was no knowing if he knew or not but she guessed that she’d find out soon enough. It was wishful thinking to hope that he wouldn’t be too mad about it, to hope that he saw her reasoning for not wanting to tell him. Gwyn was positive the Godia hadn’t seen her, otherwise the streets would have been swarming with Godia warriors by now. Or so she assumed.

Taking the lead and walking up the metal stairs that led to the front door of the apartment, Gwyn manoeuvred all the bags to her left hand before opening the front door.
‘’You can just put the bags on the kitchen island, I’ll start putting things away after I’ve gotten you a drink.’’ Taking a few of the bags back into her right hand, Gwyn used her right shoulder to open the door and took a step into the apartment so that she could keep the door open with her back and let Edi pass. ‘’It’s likely that I’ve got to move around some stuff to make everything fits, the kitchen can be quite a mess when there’s many people making use of it.’’ Muttering the last part, Gwyn turned her own body with her back to the apartment and took a step aside so that she could close the door, giving it a final push with her foot when Edita had entered the apartment. A few strands of her hair had fallen in her face, and she tried to get rid of them by blowing at them.
‘’For fucks sake, next time I’m taking a scrunchie with me.’’ Gwyn grumbled.

Opening her mouth to thank Edita once again for helping her out with the groceries, she turned herself around and saw two people sitting at the dining table, with their attention on her and Edita. Cadmus and Dominic. Taking in Cadmus sitting at the table with a paper in his hand, Gwyn felt her eyes widen in shock when she registered how he looked. What had happened to him?! His eyes were swollen and the skin around it was bruised. When did this happen? She had seen him the other day and he hadn’t looked this beaten up at all. Across from him stood Dominic, rather than sitting like she initially thought, his body seemed taut and ready to pounce, his brows furrowed and a jaw clenched so tightly that it still surprised her that he hadn’t cracked a molar. Had something happened to him too or was he like this because Cadmus looked like he had been someone’s punching bag? Then again, Dominic looked like that most of the time to her, so his posture shouldn’t surprise her. Her eyes then fell to Edita, who was still standing there with their groceries in her hands.
‘’Hey guys.’’ Gwyn said cheerily with a smile.

“What is she doing here?”

Dominic’s voice cut through the room as thunder, shaky as well as shaking with fury. The refugees in the room, Paulina in the kitchen and Aria, Luca and Makinzie on the couch, jumped at the sudden outburst. It wasn’t a shout, but the force behind it signaled imminent danger – whether from the ones arriving or from Dominic, that wasn’t clear.

Suddenly she was standing there again, in his doorway. The stranger who had known Alexandria. Who had used her against him.

And she was standing there next to Gwyn, who greeted them as though there wasn’t a single issue in the world. As if everything was fucking normal.

Instinctively, Dominic jolted up from the chair. He walked towards Gwyn, but his gaze never left the woman next to her, staring her down. Quickly assessing if she had a gun. He couldn’t see one, but who knew where she might hide it.

He didn’t give Gwyn any time to answer his question before turning it towards the stranger instead.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her. He didn’t let her speak either – why the fuck would he let her do that? Instead, he pointed with his outstretched arm at the closed door behind her. “Get out.”

There was no mistaking; either the woman would leave on her own, or Dominic would force her out, by whatever means necessary. His voice was stern and unruly, his body taut and ready if necessary. He held his arm out, towering over the woman, blocking her – and Gwyn – from the rest of the apartment.

He wasn’t going to let her enter again, especially with several refugees in the main room with them. He felt their unease grow as a constant thumping in the back of his head. Or perhaps it was the echo of his own thumping heart.

Yes. The grocery bags were also cutting into Edita’s fingers. And they were by this time almost numb, from the lack of blood circulating through them. But they were almost at the factory building. She could not wait to let these bags go. But Edita almost forgot the pain as soon as Gwyn asked her for a cup of something hot. ”Yes I would, like that very much - a cup of coffee would be great” She said, a smile on her lips as she looked at the woman beside her. Despite Edita not knowing this Gwyn, she liked her very much already.

The two of them went through the big doors to the reception. A quick ‘thank you’ escaped her lips as Edita went in before Gwyn. She waited just a moment for Gwyn to catch up with her, as Edita was just a few steps ahead of her, and the two walked upstairs together. She nodded to Gwyn’s instructions on where to place the grocery bags when they entered the apartment. Right, the kitchen island. ”I can help unpack the bags, it’s no problem” She did not want to just sit around and be a burden. The impression she got of these people were that they needed help, and for now, Edita could help with the groceries. ”We can get the drink afterwards.” she said with a wink and a smile. A celebratory hot cup of coffee after successfully having brought the groceries home would be nice.

Edita walked first into the apartment and was met with a sight of a surprising amount of people present. People in the kitchen, just fixing up a cup of coffee, people on the couches, by the dining table. Everywhere in the cramped room really. Faces met them, both strange, and some familiar. She noticed the handsome man sitting by the dining table, and to her surprise his eye was bruised. He was hurt? Who would hurt his face? No right person could hurt that face - it’s simply too pretty! Secondly, Dominic was staring at her. In the second it took for Edita to take in the many people in the room, Dominic recognised her. And voiced his dissatisfaction of her presence. Edita’s smile dropped immediately.

Here she was, standing with heavy groceries, and the man had the audacity to shout at her. Her eyebrows frowned, but she said nothing - she didn’t know what to say really.

He walked up to them, almost sprang from his chair. Eyes blazing with anger. Eyes that quickly darted down her body, trying to see the gun on her - the gun that was very much laying in her nightstand drawer. But his eyes would not leave Edita. Not even for a second. She returned the gesture.

She ignored his command. She was calculating her options. Clearly he would not let her in, and he was blocking the way for both Gwyn and her. Honestly, he had to get over himself - she had only helped him and the EFA, and then he was treating her like this? Ungrateful bitch.

”I’m bringing in your groceries.” She finally said.

”And for your information: they are quite heavy, so could you please move out of the way?” she said, wrinkling her nose as she sarcastically smiled at him. They both knew that any politeness between them was never truthful, so why bother disguising it as such? She would be kind to him when he would stop being a dick towards her.

Sometimes life at the EFA headquarters felt like never ending chaos, and Cadmus would consider, without really meaning it, if he might do better by just finding somewhere else to reside. He had anticipated some commotion surrounding Gwyn’s return; hence his remark to Dominic. But as the blonde woman stood aside to let someone else into the apartment, he thought to himself something along the lines of; fuck. Apparently oblivious to the pandemonium about to break out, Gwyn blew a couple of hairs out of her face and grumbled something displeased. It was so remarkably senseless that Cadmus did not, at first, understand the look of shock on Gwyn’s face when she saw him. His own gaze was flickering between Dominic, still seated across from him, Gwyn with half of the groceries, and –he still only half believed it– the woman who had hunted them down on behalf of Irene Ford, for her interview‚ Edita, with the rest of the bags. A cheerful ‘Hey guys’, from Gwyn was not an appropriate greeting for the situation; and, before Cadmus, or anyone else had had the chance to fully comprehend the situation, Dominic was out of the chair, questioning Edita’s presence. He had some right to do so, but Cad thought this was once more a situation that was not helped by Dominic reacting with anger.

The poor refugees who had no way of knowing who Edita was, or why her appearance would be met with such an outburst, were startled, some even jumped. Cadmus, who knew Dominic well enough to have expected it, pitied them. He also pitied Gwyn, and her ignorance. Perhaps, he might have said something, spoken up against Dominic and his attack, but he wasn’t in very good standing to begin with, still feeling guilty and everything from the night before and this didn’t concern him. Not really. It was clearly an ugly mix of his friend’s feelings towards Gwyn, and the shock of seeing someone who had ridiculed their security doing that once again. Instead, he just watched on, annoyed to learn that the raising of voices did very little for his headache, and with an expression showing something between just that, and concern. Why on earth had Edita thought it was a good idea to show up here again? Had she come on behalf of the journalist? Was it something else? She wasn’t armed. Even in the middle of all the chaos; the confusion of the refugees, and the stronger emotions from the three people at the door, he could tell as much; and if she had been there to hurt them, she would have done so already, or she would at least have let go of the groceries. So perhaps throwing her out was rash. Casting a glance around the room, Cadmus couldn’t help but wonder, what an example the rebel leader was setting. Not a very good one.

He could no longer see either Edita or Gwyn, with Dominic blocking their entry, but he heard clearly what the reason for Edita’s presence was: ‘Bringing in your groceries’ she said. And, as her general tone indicated that she was not likely to back down, the only sensible thing to do was fish out a carton of cigarettes, and light one.

The fact that Dominic was so tightly wound at first glance should’ve been enough of a warning to Gwyn for what was to come, and yet she didn’t predict any of it. She didn’t see a reason for him to explode and bark those words at her newly made friend. Instead of greeting them like any normal and decent person would, Dominic chose to spit fire and bullets. The room fell silent when the words were fired at them, like everyone was holding their breaths in fearful anticipation for what was coming next. Dominic basically verbally attacked them right there, upon entering with both of them carrying very heavy bags of groceries, mind you.

One second he was still seated, the next he had nearly violently jolted up from the chair he was sitting on and threateningly stomped his way over to where they stood, but Gwyn noticed his gaze never left Edita. What was his fucking deal? He acted like she was the most dangerous criminal on the planet with the way that he was shooting imaginary daggers at Edita. Yet having to answer his initial question as to why she –and she guessed he meant Edita– was here, Dominic repeated it but gave neither of them time to answer before he barked another two words, pointing at the door behind them. He just commanded Edita to leave in a not so friendly manner. Gwyn’s mouth fell open at the sheer audacity. How could Dominic be so rude to someone who was simply helping her out? It wasn’t like she had brought a stranger over, either! She was about to open her mouth to tell Dominic to get his manners out of his arse, but Edita beat him to it. The smile she had been wearing was gone, her brows were furrowed and Gwyn felt some sense of shame over how Dominic was treating her.

As her friend told Dominic just why she was here, Gwyn started to notice that he was standing wide enough to block their view of the apartment. What in the world made him this venomous and defensive? Surely Edita wasn’t a Godia Warrior, or something else that was dangerous to the EFA, she was just a girl. If Gwyn hadn’t been so shocked by Dominic’s reaction, she would’ve smiled at the way that Edita had answered him but it bothered her too much to even focus on her friend. Instead, all her attention lay on Dominic and his foul, foul behaviour.
‘’What’s the matter with you?’’ Gwyn started briskly, changing her grip on the plastic bags as they started to cut in her fingers again. ‘’You’re attacking her out of nowhere and for no good reason! She only helped me getting the groceries here!’’ Gwyn really wanted to put the heavy bags on the counter, because with every second that Dominic blocked them her fingers started to hurt more and more. ‘’If it wasn’t for Edita I’d either have to go back and forth twice, getting myself cuts from the plastic or asking a stranger! And that last one isn’t an option. She’s been here before, she knows you guys so why do you treat her like she’s some damn criminal?’’ It had only been a little bit of a word vomit, but she wanted to make it clear to Dominic that she wasn’t a half-wit that thought bringing strangers around to help with groceries was okay. She had some sense, at least and after her almost run in with the Godia when she was with Cassius, Gwyn wasn’t going to risk anything.

Suddenly feeling fed up with the way that Dominic was treating Edita like some most wanted criminal, Gwyn placed the bags on the floor and crossed her arms. Rolling her eyes at his attitude, she bit, ‘’You don't have to be such a paranoid dick about it.’’. Because that was what he was, a paranoid dick over nothing. If Dominic wanted to be a stubborn mule for no reason, then so could she – but she had a reason to be as stubborn.  Taking a step towards him, Gwyn placed herself between an angry Dominic and Edita. She wouldn't allow him to be rude to her friend anymore.

The woman replied with a sarcastic casualness that she was bringing in his groceries. As if she was doing a favor. The way she smiled now brought back the memory of when she smiled cunningly at him the last time she had showed up, the sight fueling his fury. He glared at her, his nostrils flaring, his fists turning white. She met his eyes, a moment of intense stare-down between them, before Gwyn spoke, catching Dominic’s attention. What’s the matter with you? she asked, and Dominic turned towards her, his mouth opened in indignation.  What was the matter with him?

“What’s the matter with me?” he spurted out, but Gwyn was already in the middle of scolding him. As if he was in the wrong. How fucking dared she.

With a thunderous expression, Dominic's fury was unmistakable, his stance rigid and confrontational. He had turned his piercing stare towards Gwyn, his lips pressed shut, air leaving his nose like steam. Her words got drowned out by the deafening throbbing in his ears. He was just waiting for her to finish, so he could get back to kicking Edita - because apparently, that was her name - out, before she did any harm, before she said anything she shouldn’t. He could deal with Gwyn afterwards - what he meant by that, he wasn’t sure of right now, the anger blurring his thoughts.

But then, some of her words managed to cut through the wall of his ire. You don't have to be such a paranoid dick about it.

Dominic’s initial shock - maybe initial hurt, too - instantly evaporated in his persistent anger, turning into propellant. When Gwyn took a step towards him, he glared down at her, towering over her.

“What did you just call me?” His voice was restrained, trembling slightly from rage. Then, he threw his arm out, gesturing over Gwyn towards Edita. Barely restraining his voice now, he raised it to say: “You’ve got to be kidding me. For fuck sake, Gwyn, she’s a criminal!”

And yeah, he knew he was a criminal too, but wasn’t that the whole fucking problem? No one was there to protect the unlawful, they had to protect themselves. And of course Gwyn didn’t understand that. Of course, she felt safe.

“Do you really think she just happened to be here to help you with your groceries?” he bit at her, his arm still raised towards Edita. He threw it out at her again to underline his point. “Have you stopped for just a moment to consider why I want her out of here?!” He withdrew his arm, his hand instantly clenching into a fist again, and he shook his head, furiously, in disbelief. “Seriously, Gwyn, you’re so fucking naive.”

Most annoyingly, Dominic did not move for her and Gwyn. His dick-behaviour was ever the more thriving. Edita took in a breath - it was either one of those that you pretend calms you down, where in reality, they never work, or one of exhaustion caused by this interaction. Why could he not see that she was not intending on doing any harm to them? She was helping them for shit’s sake! She gave them a voice through Irene Ford, and now she was helping with their groceries!

Edita was very grateful that Gwyn at least took her side in this. Despite only having met the woman today, she liked her, and it was nice to not be the only one who rubs Dominic the wrong way. She quickly glanced at Gwyn, when she spoke, thankfulness in Edita’s eyes.

But this changed when Dominic called her a criminal. Her eyes shot at him, eyebrows furrowed, her jaw falling in shock and disbelief. He had no idea who she was, and he had already made all of these prejudices against her? For all he knew, her only criminal activity had been engaging with him and the rest of the EFA! And now he’s making up conspiracy theories as to why she frequents the area!?

What an absolute egocentric ass.

Perhaps in anger, perhaps in exhaustion, but nevertheless, Edita dropped the grocery bags at the doorstep, next to Gwyn’s bags.

When the smoke reached his lungs, he almost felt at ease. Letting his fingers toy with the cigarette, he let the scene unfold. Gwyn, taken aback by Dominic’s outburst, still standing with the plastic bags was outraged. He couldn’t see her face, but he got the gist; confusion, shame and anger. She had decidedly misunderstood the situation and the context of Edita’s last visit, and the latter, for some reason, had not found reason to correct the mistake. Well, here was a reason; an angry Dominic, fist tight, almost fuming. The misleading, he thought, with another drag on the cigarette, did not help Edita’s case; she had let Gwyn believe she was harmless, so while Gwyn, in a sense, had a right to be mad at the attack, it was not one that came ‘out of nowhere and for no good reason,’ despite her claims. Devoid of logic when it came to Gwyn –confirming her presence as a liability to the organisation– Dominic did not seem interested in de-escalating the situation, or in giving Edita a chance to prove herself harmless.

Cadmus crossed his arms, sparing yet another glance around the room. The three refugees on the couch Luca, Aria and Makinzie, sat half turned, sheepishly following the action too. In the kitchen, Paulina had backed away from the action, and was eyeing the door to the hallway. He couldn’t blame her.
Gwyn was still talking; She knows you guys so why do you treat her like she’s some damn criminal? For the second time that morning, he fought to hide his disbelief. Was she unaware of where she was?

At the door, the grocery bags Gwyn was holding hit the floor before she decided, in what had to be the dumbest move so far, to call the leader of the EFA a paranoid dick. Someone gasped, and Paulina seized the moment to slip out the door. The explosive cocktail that constituted Dominic’s emotions had to be felt by everyone in the room, Nachon or not, and the relative calmness of his voice was made all the more frightening by it. Cadmus ashed his cigarette, having temporarily forgotten about it, and listened to Dominic continuing his offence, and the surprisingly great points he presented. For fuck sake, Gwyn, she’s a criminal! – and she was. If only Dominic knew just how true that was; although chiming in with the suspicious information he had gleaned at Edita’s last visit would probably not help the situation, and might raise more questions than it answered. He reminded himself that this had nothing to do with him.

No matter what, Dominic was right; Gwyn was ‘fucking naive’, and once more Cadmus wondered if she was really worth it.

While she had been berating Dominic for his absurd behaviour towards Edita, she had heard him spurt out in disbelief. Did he really not see how outrageous his reaction was? Everyone with a working pair of eyes could see that this wasn’t the way you treated someone who helped you in a way. What else could he have wanted her to do? Hurt as she carried all of those bags herself? Struggle because she could hardly lift them? Take forever to return and then get scolded for taking too long?

Gwyn was so wrapped up that she didn’t notice the way the refugees were staring at Dominic and her. Or rather how they were cautiously watching them, as if things could go very wrong any second and they wanted to be able to flee. She was also too blind to see that Dominic’s posture became more and more lethal. While most people were loud when they got furious, Dominic’s fury was a calmness that was even more lethal.

Not for the first time she got reminded of how much Dominic towered over her. His shoulders were nearly twice as wide as her own, making her feel slight despite the anger she felt for his behaviour, as he drowned her ability to see much past him. Before Gwyn could repeat what she said because apparently aside from being a paranoid dick he was also deaf, Dominic raised his voice to go for another attack.

At first she felt shocked by his words, by the arm Dominic had flung towards Edita. It took some effort not to turn to her newly made friend to see if she would validate his statement or not. But then her shock morphed into embarrassment. Was she really that gullible, that she couldn’t discern a criminal from someone who seemed to mean to help her. And in her embarrassment, she lashed out at Dominic again.
‘’Then what are you? Aren’t you a criminal?’’ Her voice broke somewhere at the end of her sentence because of the screech she let out. It was one thing to scold her when it was just him and her but he basically just made her look like a major fool in front of everyone if his accusation was true.

And if it hadn’t been enough to point out that she might have misjudged Edita, he just had to put another scoop on top. Making her feel even more stupid if his words were a potential truth. She didn’t want to feel like this, like some sort of dumb child.
‘’Well, not everyone has nefarious intentions. Do they?’’ Gwyn countered or at least she tried but with every word that Dominic said she felt herself fall deeper and deeper in a pit of indignation that he had created.

It stung. More than it should have when he called her naive. It was the second time he made her feel like she was –simply said– a tactless, dumb person since the beginning of her stay. First she was a brat, and now naive. Grinding her molars, Gwyn unfolded her arms and held them next to her body, fists balled to the point that her own nails were almost piercing through skin.
‘’How am I supposed to know?’’ Her own voice had raised in volume, making it sound like she was screaming at him. ‘’You just bark at me instead of even trying to explain why! So it’s not my fault I am to see the good in people unlike some!’’ Her breath came hard, her heart was beating furiously in her chest and to her utter displeasure, she felt a telltale prick starting behind her eyes. No, this asshole and his hurtful words would not get her to cry. She refused.

Edita dropped the grocery bags, and Dominic casted a quick glance towards her, but other than that, his focus was on Gwyn, like a tunnel vision, narrowing with each retort coming from her. Every word, a stab, fuel to the raging inferno threatening to explode.

She kept arguing back, kept talking as if she knew a goddamn thing about this world. About his world. Well, not everyone has nefarious intentions. What did she know about that? She hadn’t seen Edita’s cunning smile. She didn’t know where Cad’s black eye came from. She hadn’t read the replies to the article in which people openly wished for the murder of Nachon citizens.

She had no fucking idea.

Dominic’s chest heaved, his breath held as if he was about to spit fire. His skin felt hot, his fists trembled, his jaw was clenched so tightly that he could feel the strain in his teeth.

So it’s not my fault I am to see the good in people unlike some.

Dominic's emotions combusted within him - a fierce and uncontainable explosion of rage. He shouted, his yelling rumbling through the apartment like thunder: “Take a fucking look around, Gwyn!” He swung out his arm to demonstrate his point without ever taking his furious glare away from Gwyn. “You think I’d be doing this if I didn’t see the good in people?!”

The pulse in his temples throbbed. Not see the good in people, unbelievable. If others knew how to see good in people, the EFA wouldn’t exist in the first place. But of course, he was the problem.

He didn’t give her any time to answer, he didn’t even let her open her mouth, before he yelled again, his voice shaking the walls, aggressive gestures emphasizing the words.  

“I am sick of your shit!” Every muscle straining, his hand propelled upward in a sharp, furious gesture towards her. “You whine, you’re disrespectful, you put everyone’s lives at risk!” He had yet to lower his voice, his face contorted in rage, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. “And then you have the fucking audacity to complain about my actions-!”

He pulled his hand down, immediately clenching it back into a fist. He inhaled sharply, shaking with fury, as if trying to gain control over himself. But he was no longer trying.

“Who knows who’s out there, in need of our help,” he roared, “while you ungratefully take up the space they could have gotten! Have you even fucking thought of that?!”

Maybe it had been a mistake, everything she had just thrown at Dominic. Because his rage seemed to have become even bigger. But then again, he managed to dig up that same anger in her. And Gwyn rarely got this mad that she resorted to screaming to someone. Sure, she got irritated with people like any other however for her to become truly fire spitting mad at someone? Then you’d have to do a number, and Dominic had just done so by attacking Edita upon their entering and then making a fool out of Gwyn in front of everyone present.

She didn’t regret what she said, because ever since she had been brought here by Idés –bless his good heart– no one had taken the time or liberty to explain to her what they did, how they operated. All she got told was that ‘they are good people’, and that she would take part in cooking and cleaning like everyone else. Not even Cadmus, who seemed like the wisest one if she were to judge by the way his room looked, had given her an inkling about what they did behind the scenes.

Trying to hold her ground, to keep the threatening tears at bay, Gwyn kept on pushing her nails into her skin deeper and deeper. The moment that Dominic combusted though, when he truly started to yell at her, she flinched. The arm that he swung out, for a second there she thought that he would hit her with it. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d come to hear of a guy losing his temper and striking out. But despite what she thought of him, Dominic had never seemed like the type to hit someone, least of all a woman. Yet she couldn’t help the reaction.

He thundered on, his voice ever so loud as he started firing verbal bullets at her. And with every word he spat at her, she crawled more and more into herself. Because what he said, hit her right where it hurt. Dominic somehow managed to pick out the right pieces to tear her apart from the inside. Through his tirade, she couldn’t manage to look away from him. His fury and ire painfully visible and completely directed at her. Never had she wanted to look like the whiny person, but yet she managed to do so. Nor had she ever wanted to put anyone at risk, but why would Dominic say that? It came to her that there was only one reason why he would throw that at her. Cassius had told him about the Godia warrior she saw the other day.

But what broke her were the last words he roared at her. She couldn’t hold the tears at bay anymore, feeling her chin quiver as his words took root inside her. Affirming just what she had been thinking ever since that blasted party last year. She was a waste of space. She took up a spot for someone who needed it more than she did, she kept someone else from their safety with her presence alone.

Fat, salty tears streamed over her cheeks, wetting and stinging her skin, colouring it red. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t manage a sound. All that she could was stare and slowly process. She brought this upon herself, it was all her fault. She should’ve never opened up her big mouth that day in the greenery. It had been a mistake to let Idés take her here. She wasn’t wanted.

Something akin to the feeling of a breaking heart filled within her chest, it took over any other sense and made her forget the self inflicted pain of her palms. No longer did Gwyn have the strength to look up, to look anyone in the eye so she let her head hang and focused her blurry vision upon the floor, on the scattered grocery bags that lay next to her feet.

She wasn’t wanted here. She took up precious space for someone who needed it more, deserved it more. There was only one option left for her.

‘’I’ll leave then.’’ Her voice sounded broken as Gwyn croaked the words through her tears and without another word or glance she turned on her heels and walked past Edita, whom she wasn’t even sure about anymore. Past the door, down the stairs and through the enforced door of the building. A sob escaped through her lips, the words that were thrown at her once again hitting her with unparalleled ferocity. In some sense of self preservation, Gwyn managed to put on the hood of her sweater before she started walking, away from the place she wasn’t wanted.

But to where, she didn’t know.

There was no retort. No yelling back. Not even a word left Gwyn when Dominic was done reprimanding her. Dominic stood still, stiff, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on her. Waiting for her to say something, to push back just as hard as he had pushed her.

Then, he saw them - Gwyn’s tears. Streaming down her cheeks, her eyes already red. She wasn’t fighting back, she was hurt. He had hurt her.

His own words echoed through him, the brutal force of them hitting him. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn’t planned on exploding like this. His responsibility was to protect, and yet, Edita was still in the apartment, and every refugee in the room was quivering with fear. And not because of her. Because of him.

And Gwyn was crying. Averting her gaze, looking small and fragile and so very hurt. All because of Dominic.

Of course he was the problem.

Dominic’s explosion was over, and in the ashes was only regret. His rigid posture weakened and his gaze blunted. He opened his mouth, waiting to say something, but what could he possibly say to fix this? It wasn’t that he was shocked with this outcome. Just disappointed.

He didn’t figure out what to say before Gwyn spoke. I’ll leave then.

“Gwyn,” Dominic finally said, taking a step towards her,  “Shit, wait-”

But Gwyn was already out of the apartment. She had hurried out and down the stairs, and Dominic stopped. Because who was he to chase after her? After giving her all the reasons to not want to be here?

He ran his hand through his hair and then across his face, as he exhaled heavily. He was very aware of all the eyes on him, he could feel the nervousness pounding through the air, accompanying his headache. He somehow felt just as fragile as Gwyn had seemed, and he hated himself for it. As if he had fucking deserved to feel this way. As if their fear wasn’t justified.

The dense silence was finally broken when he turned his gaze down towards Edita, whom he now stood beside. He didn’t move his body, only his head as he looked down at her.

“You still need to leave,” he said, firmly but as a mumble. He had yelled enough already.

Edita crossed her arms, as the two of them spit back and forth. This was uncomfortable, and clearly they were verbally hitting their target’s weak points. To put it mildly, shots were fired. Being this close to the action, Edita bit her lip and shifted her weight, and before she knew it Gwyn was storming away. The look that the woman gave her, her newly found friend, made her shiver. Those eyes did not see a friend, like they had done just minutes earlier, but rather a stranger and a dangerous person. Which… Edita sadly had to stomach it, but it was not wrong. She turned her head to look after the woman as she stormed away down the stairs.

She felt sick to her stomach at the thought. Had she just used this innocent woman’s good nature to gain her trust and once again enter the headquarter of the EFA without permission? It hadn’t been her intention… She had simply wanted to help her with the groceries. By Dicstian, she hadn’t even recognised the woman before she had already started helping her! Her hands fell by her sides… She felt truly helpless in this situation. She had only wanted to help, and was only met with anger and dismissiveness.

It was only when Dominic spoke to her, his voice low, yet firm, that she noticed he had moved a step forward leaving the entrance to the EFA headquarters free from obstruction. She looked inside, just for a second, and saw the faces of the many people who lived there, all eyes on her and Dominic. Many of them looked scared. Either at her or at Dominic. She noticed the handsome man at the kitchen island, smoking a cigarette, his eye bruised badly, and yet he seemed unaffected by this whole endeavour. She felt a tingle at the sight.

She looked up at the man. He towered over her a great deal, and yet she did not feel threatened. Unwelcome, sure, but not threatened. She had an inkling that this had taken quite a toll on him. She met his gaze and stood her ground before she spoke: ”I know you don’t know who I am, and that makes me a danger, I understand that.” Under normal circumstances she would have tried a smile now to seem empathetic, but clearly this man was blind in that regard, so her face remained neutral. ”But I knew you once, and to be honest, I don’t recognise you anymore.”

She sighed, looking down at the toes of her shoes for a second, frustrated at the situation and at the man before her. She looked back up again, meeting his eyes. ”I am here to help, and clearly you need it.” She said, gesturing towards the door where the people were crammed together inside. How did he not understand? ”I will leave for now, but I do hope that you will take my help next time - for it’ll be the last time I’ll reach out. If you won’t do it for yourself, then for them.” She nodded towards the door.

And really that was all she had to say. She crossed her arms and with one last look at the handsome man and then back at Dominic, she turned on her heel and walked back down the stairs from whence she came.

The stranger, Edita, met his gaze yet again with more strength in her brown eyes than Dominic felt in his body. Claiming that she understood, almost making Dominic snort. How could she understand any of this? Dominic barely understood it himself.

Though, he didn’t get to do or say anything as a retort when her next words struck him. Edita, the stranger, said that she knew him. Which couldn’t be, because how could she do that, where could she know him from? Dominic stiffened, the shock rippling through him. She had said Alexandria’s name, the first time she had been here. Mentioned going to high school with her, presumably with him too. A lifetime ago. She knew him, Dominic knew she was telling the truth about this. Which was why the other part of her sentence settled in him as an after-effect of the shock, a deep resonating ache within him. I don’t recognise you anymore.

He didn’t recognise himself either.

Thankfully, Edita looked away, because Dominic couldn’t have her gaze on him anymore. Though just for a second, but it was enough for Dominic to push this feeling of loss away, his face hardened. Fighting the need to shrink as she called him out on needing help, he instead pushed forward his chest, growing taller beside her. He didn’t look the way she was gesturing. He didn’t need to - the refugees’ heavy nervousness weighted down on him, a frustrating reminder of how much he had fucked up. Edita didn’t need to point that out. Hadn’t she already said enough?

If you won’t do it for yourself, then for them. That was her last words before she turned on her heel and walked out the apartment. Dominic closed the door the second she was out of there, slamming it shut, his hand pressed against it. Fuck her. Speaking to him, offering to help, as if she knew him. She didn’t know him. That was the whole point. Whomever she might have known was gone. He was the stranger now.

He was the stranger now.

With a shaky exhale he tried to keep to himself, he let go of the door and stepped back from it. He looked through the room. None of the refugees looked his way - somehow this felt as both a relief and another loss.

Then, he turned around to look at Cadmus. Who had been here the whole time, seeing it all go down. With his black eye, the infamous article in his hand. It was too much. Dominic needed help, yes, by Iosta, he needed so much help. For someone to take all this weight of his shoulders for just one fucking second.

“We can discuss the article later.” He heard the words leave his mouth, stern and remote. He wanted to curl up and cry. It stung in his eyes and he looked away. “I'll call a meeting for tomorrow.”

He didn’t look at Cadmus again, nor the refugees. Feeling smaller than ever, he walked out. To go hide in his room, like the little boy he no longer was.

There was no reason why he should not have been able to handle this; emotions ran high, yes. Voices too. But it was no different from the meetings Dom called. There were not even that many people present in the living room. Gwyn, Edita and Dominic at the door, the three refugees on the couch; six people. Six people, but he hadn’t really slept. Six people, and he felt nauseous. Like the room was pressing down on him, suffocating him. The coffee didn’t help. He was grounded only by the physical sensation of the cigarette in his hand, how it felt against his lips, and how the smoke made his breaths visible.

He heard Gwyn ask; Then what are you? Aren’t you a criminal? And he had to close his eyes. It was nice to know she didn’t harbour the same feelings towards them as the public, but they were still, very much, at least in the eyes of the law, considered criminals. For better or worse. Idés had brought her here. He should have prepared her, should have introduced her to this life.  It was too dangerous not to be suspicious of other people; Even if Edita hadn’t had any intentions, and she had to have had – Right? Why would she show up here again voluntarily? Gwyn was supposed to know, because how could she not? These people who had lived their lives like this, who did not have the privilege of ignorance.

The chair beneath him was solid, the cocktail of air and smoke was soothing. Gwyn screaming at Dominic did not change the facts. She only managed to come across as even more privileged. Opening his eyes again. Still there. They were wasting time. Dom clearly didn’t notice anything but Gwyn. It was like watching a volcano about to erupt. Felt that way too. Anger – like pinpricks. Vision getting blurry. He closed his eyes again.
Gwyn might not be at fault for seeing the good in people, but some of them didn’t have that choice. There was no use feeling hurt. No use arguing about fairness. Better to focus on the things at hand. In hand. Physical. Visible too, when he opened his eyes. No, it wasn’t Gwyns fault, but it wasn’t theirs either. And this comment seemed to do it for Dom. The volcano erupted. On the couch the refugees turned away, looking scared. Gwyn flinched. So did Cadmus – burning himself on the cigarette. He put it out. Missed having something to hold on to. Picked up the butt. Not lighting another. Chain smoking was not a habit he planned getting into.

Dom was sick of Gwyn’s shit. Harsh, but Dom was clearly not rational when it came to this woman. She had pressed a button somewhere. Personally, Cad hadn’t found her whiny or disrespectful: she had helped out around the place; although he couldn’t argue with the putting lives at risk part. Still, telling her she was taking up space? Shit, that wasn’t fair. He could feel her pain, even if he couldn’t see her tears, and he wanted to say something. But what was there to say? Likewise, he knew that Dominic regretted his words; it would do no good reprimanding him either.

Gwyn’s intentions didn’t matter. Intentions never mattered. He would know. Perhaps it was this knowledge that held him back: Gwyn had messed up; she had to take the consequences. Had to understand that she was just as trapped as the rest of them. Life didn’t owe her anything. No more than it owed him. Or Dom. Or those on the couch. He was strangely unmoved by her heartbreak, by how unwanted she felt. She did take up room. Was it deserved when she didn’t even seem to want it? When she took it for granted?

So, he sat by, as Gwyn said she would leave. As she left. Telling himself that she would be fine, that she would be back. At some point she would realise that the HQ was the best this damned town had to offer.
When Dom tried to stop her, Cad had his eyes on his own hands, and the butt he kept turning over. This wasn’t his fight. Why then, did he feel this nagging sense of doubt?

By the door, Dominic asked Edita to leave. No more yelling. Head hadn’t stopped hurting, but the nausea was fading. He looked up, having almost forgotten about the cause of the argument. Still there. Feeling bad about the situation. Redemption? No, intentions didn’t matter. He saw her notice him. Hard not to feel sorry for her. Putting down the cigarette. Listened.
Edita was there to help? He wasn’t really sure how. Getting involved with the mafia did not seem particularly helpful. Although there was no doubt they needed help. She would leave. For now. Which implied that she would be coming back. He met her eyes before she too turned around and left.

The door shut, leaving Dominic standing by it alone. In the all too sudden quiet. Awkwardly toying with the article on the table, Cadmus thought that he was supposed to do something. At the very least say something. What could he say that wouldn’t make Dominic feel worse than he already did? He also didn’t want to be the one to have a conversation with him about Gwyn. About anything really. What felt like a lie, his speaking around the events of last night, weighed heavily on him, and when Dom mentioned the article, Cad had halfway forgotten about it. He looked away, pretending not to notice the fragility. And let him leave the room with nothing more than an “Alright,” to acknowledge him.

No one moved for a second or two, even after Dominic had left the room. The three refugees on the couch sitting frozen.
Realising that he should probably pose as an authority figure, or at least give them a sign of what to do, Cadmus sighed, let go of the paper and got up. The chair scraping against the floor made the others turn to him. He nodded towards the bags with groceries, still standing by the door where they had been dumped, “I am just going to put those away.”