blood moon, marc spector

twelve.

WHEN LILITH AND MARC LEFT TURKEY, THEY WERE BACK TO THEIR GENERAL SILENT TREATMENT. they sat in separate rows of the jet, not talking even when they made uncomfortable eye contact. 

lilith had to admit, though, that the previous day with marc had been good. it had been good to go on a mission where they agreed on something, where they were laughing together and looking out for one another.

once again, she was reminded of the discussion of how similar she and marc were. to a fault, most of the time. their primary difference was the same thing marc had complained about-- where lilith shut down, marc blew up. 

she really wasn't opposed to being friends with him. well, friends was maybe putting it much too delicately. she wasn't opposed to being on good terms with him, to laughing and working together seamlessly like she did with frenchie. 

but that was something about the way they had always been together. dismissive, argumentative, and refusing to understand the other's habits or tendencies.

it had been a few days, and neither of them had run into each other at all. 

when lilith got back to her apartment after a briefing with jabez, there was a call for her from the front desk. that much was odd, considering that no one ever called her. anyone who would've needed to contact her (jabez or frenchie, maybe someone else who worked with her) had her cell number or otherwise had a means to get it. 

"lilith james." she answered, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder. "uh huh." she nodded, listening to the call. 

someone who knew lilith especially well would've seen something in her expression change. maybe a twitch of her lip or eye, maybe an adjustment to her posture. 

"okay. yeah. thanks for letting me know." she hung up.

𓁈 𓁉 𓁊

lilith's bar of choice was the one just down the street from her apartment. 

she loved going somewhere close, first and foremost, because she couldn't drive. of course, if she could, she certainly couldn't drive drunk. but she could stumble back to her apartment and wake up with only a small hangover to remind herself of her previous mistakes.

lilith knew she had an alcohol problem. she was well aware of the fact. a therapist maybe would've told her that she was becoming her father the more she tried to be anything other than him. 

a therapist could've argued that she was just a product of a bad household, and that it was ruining her perception of what a coping mechanism could be.

a therapist could even argue that all of this was just because lilith didn't like herself. because she was insecure, unstable, and because her job had led her to believe that she was some kind of deranged monster. that she'd always been a monster, from the moment she was born. from the moment her birth killed her mother.

but these things were why lilith was at the bar that night. she was intending to get incredibly wasted- whatever it took to forget that damn phone call, to forget marc spector, to forget it all.

she was sitting at the bar, comfortably sipping on her umpteenth drink as she watched whatever football game was playing on the tv. she hadn't really paid attention to the tv until that moment.

"round of whiskey." someone said at the end of the bar.

lilith looked over at the sound of his voice. marc spector. of course marc was there. they hadn't seen one another since their mission to turkey. their gaze met, and a frown formed on marc's face. he straightened in his seat.