(Untitled)

[bootme]

Report as of three days into summer hols

Comments

[fletchfinchley]

It wasn't wonderful, was it? And it was all my fault. I never said I was sorry, but I was and I am and I'll always be sorry because I was stupid and horrid and even if you never, ever forgive me I'll be sorry for the rest of my life.

You can't be dead. You're not allowed to be dead, all right? I'm the sensible one, and I say you're not. So there.

I believe you, you know. You've never lied to me and I know you wouldn't lie about this. They're wrong and I know they're wrong.

I just wish they'd hurry up and find you.

They keep bringing in more and more people. Most of them have got cuts and scrapes, a few have broken bones. Elizabeth broke her arm and she's scared as anything. Michael's got some internal injuries and he's more out of his mind than usual. He keeps saying it was you.

It wasn't you. I know it wasn't you.

Why haven't they found you yet? They have to find you...

I never got to say goodbye. I never got to say I'm sorry.

I never got to tell you that I love you.

I nev

[bootme]

I'm not dead.

It was me. It was, you know.

And they found me.

Does any of that change any of the rest?

[fletchfinchley]

It doesn't change anything.

[bootme]

You did tell me you were sorry, however. Months ago. I don't believe I ever told you I accepted the apology, but you did apologise.

You didn't need to be worried about that part, at least, I don't think.

[fletchfinchley]

I think then I was more sorry that I got caught rather than sorry that I actually did it.

[bootme]

I think that doesn't change much, really.

And, well, if it did, these days I don't think either of us have anything even vaguely resembling a leg to stand on around all of this anymore.

Welcome to the world of irony, I suppose.

[fletchfinchley]

Irony sucks.

Do you want to start over?

[bootme]

It kind of does, doesn't it.

And I don't know. Honestly.

[fletchfinchley]

Don't play games with me, Bootsy.

I know you do.

[bootme]

Sure of ourselves, aren't we?

[fletchfinchley]

As sure as a boggart, smartarse.

[bootme]

...I've just realised that I pretty literally can't use anything that even vaguely sounds threatening towards anyone anymore. Especially not theorised blabbermouthed redheads. People are likely to take me seriously, now.

I can call you an arse, however, I presume.

[fletchfinchley]

You can call me whatever you want.

[bootme]

I might actually take you up on that.

All of that.

[fletchfinchley]

Good.

I'll be right down.