got a thing about you (rp for already_hateyou)
He tried to send messages back to her, but she replied to none of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was being blown off, and after the dream he'd had...a stupid, random, oddly powerful dream that had shown him the future...he wasn't ready to deal with this. He felt sick, crazed, and still breathless over what he'd seen in his vision.
And now, apparently, he had his answer about why she was brooding when she returned to the village.
He wasn't even sure of that as he returned to the hotel. He didn't know she was mourning him, but he could only assume she was because he...
He was mourning her.
It was a hard thing to admit, and only increased the strange stranglehold that the vivid dream had on him. There wasn't enough air, not when every breath she took, she was thinking about him with his ex-wife...his ex-wife, he really must have been desperate and lonely and pathetic.
Standing at her door, he hesitated only a little because he had no idea what he was doing. Like the vision, he had an idea, a notion, but it wasn't fully formed and it wasn't quite ready. Like a half-baked cake, it was soft in the middle and lacked substance. He didn't know what he was doing.
But he had an idea as he reached up and banged...not knocked, banged on her door, shouting for entry.
"Beckett!! Beckett!!! Open up, or I'll stand out here all day and night until you let me in!!"
And now, apparently, he had his answer about why she was brooding when she returned to the village.
He wasn't even sure of that as he returned to the hotel. He didn't know she was mourning him, but he could only assume she was because he...
He was mourning her.
It was a hard thing to admit, and only increased the strange stranglehold that the vivid dream had on him. There wasn't enough air, not when every breath she took, she was thinking about him with his ex-wife...his ex-wife, he really must have been desperate and lonely and pathetic.
Standing at her door, he hesitated only a little because he had no idea what he was doing. Like the vision, he had an idea, a notion, but it wasn't fully formed and it wasn't quite ready. Like a half-baked cake, it was soft in the middle and lacked substance. He didn't know what he was doing.
But he had an idea as he reached up and banged...not knocked, banged on her door, shouting for entry.
"Beckett!! Beckett!!! Open up, or I'll stand out here all day and night until you let me in!!"