Broken...
Updated list of letters available here.
Gardener's Chronicle: A Ten Year Journal of Your Garden's Growth
Plant inventory:
Botanical name:
Common name:
Features:
Average height:
Exposure:
Quantity:
Price per unit:
Supplier:
Location:
Notes:
With the windows rolled down, I can hear the first birds beginning to warm up their vocal chords.
Once it got dark and I could no longer see the ocean, I finally managed to drag my arse up and off the beach. Wandered for quite a while. Must have been a couple hours, mainly because I forgot where I left my damn car.
There's something soothing about walking aimlessly in the dark when nobody's about. Passed the same sleeping homeless guy twice, and on the second pass, I left a twenty behind. Seemed like an appropriate thing to do. Don't know why.
I only wish I hadn't left the house so fast. I spent the last hour of my stroll rubbing my arms, trying to encourage better circulation while I looked for somewhere warm to spend a bit of time. At least long enough to get the blood flowing a little faster. It would figure that I'd find myself hell far and gone from the hotel district at just about this time. Next time I'm blind with rage, I think I should make a mental note to bring my goddamn jacket or wear a sweater. Thank god I hadn't taken my wallet out of my trousers, or I would have been even further up the creek.
I did eventually find the car. Got in, turned it on, flipped on the headlights, gave the windshield a quick squirt of washer fluid to get rid of some great big bloody squashed bug, and saw something white flutter out from underneath the driver's side wiper. Damn flyers. They're everywhere.
Gripped the steering wheel and steeled myself against the inevitable. I think it took me about 10 minutes before I threw the car into Drive. And another 3 before I took my foot off the brake.
And now I'm sitting here, outside my own damn house, unable to step out into the greying dark and simply cross the bloody street. I'm going to have to go in eventually, I know.
Fuck.
Miranda snores. not a lot, mind you, just this regular, rough intake of breath. small rolling noise. can't hear it when I'm asleep. which is a state i am not in right now.
woke up around 4:30 am. all this drama is doing horrible things to my internal clock. didn't help that Mir was still sleeping on my arm. she's lovely and light, but she was doing a good impression of a dead weight. couldn't feel my own fingers. took me a while to free my arm, but i managed it without waking her up. will have to keep arm-releasing technique in mind for later. perhaps consider patenting it. thought about pushing back the covers, skimming my hands over her skin, moving down her body to take her nipples in my mouth, roll my tongue over them and wake her up by degrees, but my bladder had other ideas.
got up, decided i could really use a piss. managed to pull on jeans and navigate my way down the hallway to the bathroom without having to turn any lights on. stared at my stylish reflection in the mirror over the sink and noticed that the tiling around it is sporting a bit of mildew. someone should take a look at that, clean it up before it eats away the grout.
had thoughts of returning to Miranda, breathing her in.
am quite sure the universe hates me, and i'm pretty sure i haven't drowned any kittens lately. just drunken debauchery, some not-so-drunken debauchery, that sort of thing.
was almost safe back inside the spare room, within steps of mutual nakedness, the door almost closed behind me, when i heard someone say from the hallway "where the fuck have you been?"
i stopped, door still slightly ajar, and opened my mouth, pithy explanation at the ready. Viggo's voice cut me short though, and he said in considerably softer tones, "we've been worried sick. we've been all over town, looking for you."
ah. not me.
Sean said, very clearly, "not now, Vig. not fucking now." someone must have turned on a lamp, because i could see the outline of the door, dark wood against low light. at least he'd come back. about time.
heard some shuffling, and then Viggo's voice again, a little closer this time. "what is your problem?"
"none of your business. leave me alone."
of course, i'm not the nosy type or anything, but given all the crap that's gone on since i've been here, i think i've earned the right to watch it all play out. opened the door a bit so i had a view of the hallway. Sean and Viggo were only a couple feet away, Viggo clearly blocking Sean's route, one arm out, hand resting on the wall. thought about waking Mir, telling her that Sean was home and asking if she wanted to watch with me, but decided that might be pushing "accidentally overhearing" into "intentionally snooping," and i think we've hit our quota for that today. (must find a way to work those pictures of Sean and Viggo together casually into conversation. has excellent possibilities.)
so of course i've got a great view now, and lucky me, nobody's looking my way. this is good. granted, they're standing on a slight angle, Sean mostly facing away from me (although i could still see one side of his face) so Viggo's the only one who'd see me, and only if he squinted down the hallway. looked a bit too preoccupied to search for lurking listeners.
he lifted a hand, looked like he was going to brush Sean's cheek with his fingers, and said "i'm not leaving you alone, and it is my fucking business. you're my fucking business, elskede."
Sean grabbed Vig's hand before it made contact, thrust it away from him. couldn't see enough of his face to judge his mood for sure, but he let venom drip thickly into his voice. "don't you think you're spreading yourself a bit thin in that area?"
"excuse me?"
"don't play innocent, Viggo. i'm tired of that little song and dance."
"what is it you think i've done, Sean?" Viggo still sounded patient. like he'd gone through these kind of arguments before, knew that anger fuelled anger, and was carefully avoiding lighting the fuse.
Sean's cold, liquid tone dropped away, replaced by something that sounded like it was on the fast track to fury. not much control of his temper, that one. "for fuck's... you couldn't just damn well tell me, could you? couldn't come out and say it. no. oh, no. does it give you some sort of perverse pleasure, fucking around on me? fucking with me? Penelope, indeed. that's a laugh."
don't know how Viggo stayed so calm, but he did. sure, there was an edge to his words, but still... i suppose so much of how any argument goes hinges on how well you know your lover. i wonder how Miranda fights. bet it's as dirtily as she talks. mmm. wonder if i should provoke her, just to see...
"the pleasure i take in fucking with you, elskede," Viggo said, "is far from perverse. if you have something to say, say it."
Sean made this funny noise, halfway between a snort and choking. ow. must have hurt. "Harry, Viggo. Harry. is he the first? or have there been others?" his back was ramrod straight, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. wondered if i should get ready to grab him again, but became rapidly apparent that he was locked in place.
"Harry?"
"Sinclair, you bastard. or do you not even bother to remember their names?"
"i thought i told you, there has only ever been you. i'm not sleeping with Harry, Sean."
"sure. only me. just me. right. well, that clears everything up then. how could i be so goddamn stupid?" Viggo relaxed a bit at that, moved his blocking arm away from the wall. poor guy, didn't really see what was coming, even though it was plain as day.
Sean seemed to take special relish in his next words. he leaned toward Viggo, inclining his head ever so slightly, closing just a little of the distance between them so he could hiss, "...except for the fact that Harry, well, he enlightened me, Vig. good of at least one of you to fess up."
good on Viggo, though. he barely missed a beat. but then, maybe i misjudged, and he was expecting that one all along. said, "he lied to you, Sean." tried to touch his face again. bloody soothing, that man. suspect he'd make a nice, lazy fuck.
Sean wasn't having any of it. was surprised he didn't wake Mir up with his "don't you fucking touch me," because ow, loud. batted away the hand. he kept yelling, too. said "you think i'm stupid enough to believe everything i hear? anything some arse off the street tells me?" strode over to the back of the couch, grabbed at something book-shaped, presumably a book, that was perched there, and brought it back to Vig, who hadn't even bothered to move. guess he figured Sean wasn't about to run off anywhere now that he was yelling bloody murder. couldn't really see what was going on, but Sean seemed to fumble with something, then was thrusting sheets of paper at Vig and saying, "i didn't need to be told a fairy story. i've seen enough to judge for myself."
Viggo didn't touch the proffered papers. "they're not real, Sean. Harry... he had someone make them up on a computer. they're not real. or do you trust him more than you trust me?"
that was when my foot started to cramp up, which, word to the wise, makes it hard to pay attention. good idea to stretch a bit before trying full-contact eavesdropping. i grimaced, tried to shift my weight unobtrusively, not bring attention to myself with too much movement.
wouldn't have mattered anyway, because things started to go off the rails at an alarming rate. there was a slight pause, as if Sean was trying to collect his thoughts, and then he started to laugh. this jerky, hitching laugh that made his shoulders twitch, and seemed to make it hard to do much more than repeat himself. "trust? trust?" he let the book slip from his fingers, and i jumped a bit as it hit the floor. it fell open, and a whole bunch of paper spilled out. more for Dave to pick up, i expect.
"yes, trust. you still remember what that is, elskede?" Viggo's a tenacious bastard. up went the hand, and i was ready to bet the bank that he was going to be rebuffed again.
Sean's laughter took on a brittle quality, as if the sound was shattering before it could leave his mouth. he made no move to push Viggo away this time. instead he closed his eyes, breathed deeply as Viggo's fingers stroked his cheek. the laughter stopped, and in low voice that i was lucky i caught he said, "don't call me that." opened his eyes, seemed to regroup long enough to say "i trust you enough to be up front and honest with me, just like you were in all those letters you sent me. you know, the ones where you didn't quite tell me you were fucking Harry? the ones where you never quite said you were, and never quite said you weren't?"
"i'm not fucking Harry. i've never fucked Harry. i have no intention of ever fucking Harry."
hey, i'm convinced.
apparently Sean was not. the weird laughter started again, shoulders hitching. "see? that wasn't so hard, was it?" he kept laughing, then turned abruptly toward the wall and nailed it with his fist.
there was a noise as something cracked.
Sean had clipped one of the photos on the wall, smashed his knuckles right into the glass. didn't pull away, though. just left his hand there, still curled, still laughing. he leaned forward a bit, rested his forehead on the wall.
Viggo went dead silent for a moment. closed his eyes, and muttered, "i should have killed him. i should have fucking killed him today." he pulled at a shoulder, turned Sean away from the wall, and as his hand came away, the photo dropped to the ground. Sean stared at it, but it was pretty obvious he wasn't really seeing it. Viggo grabbed his chin, turned Sean's face to his own, which seemed to make Sean laugh harder. i don't ever want to hear that sound again.
that was when Viggo slapped him.
thank god.
quieted Sean right down right away. he hissed "fuck off," but that was the height of his resistance. his knees buckled, and he leaned back, slid down the wall. think he might have sat on some of the broken glass.
felt something brush up next to me, and turned to see Mir, still a bit sleepy and wearing. my. shirt. does she do that on purpose? looked at me, said she'd heard something break. i pointed down the hall. Viggo was kneeling next to Sean, wrapping his arms around him. could no longer see Sean's face, but the strange, jerking movement he'd made while laughing had been replaced by a mild shaking. suspected he was crying, but couldn't say for sure.
Mir wanted to go to them, but i grabbed her arm, held her back, suggested she go back to bed. was really surprised when she actually listened to me. took it upon myself to venture out to the bathroom again, this time bringing back their woefully understocked medical kit. left it by Viggo, then went back to the spare room with Mir. there'll be time for talking to them later.
did get a glimpse of the poor, victimized photo as i went by, though. smeared with blood, but i think it was that nice one of Viggo and Sean in full costume, grimly staring down the camera on the Caradhras set.
~D
Gardener's Chronicle: A Ten Year Journal of Your Garden's Growth
Plant inventory:
Botanical name:
Common name:
Features:
Average height:
Exposure:
Quantity:
Price per unit:
Supplier:
Location:
Notes:
With the windows rolled down, I can hear the first birds beginning to warm up their vocal chords.
Once it got dark and I could no longer see the ocean, I finally managed to drag my arse up and off the beach. Wandered for quite a while. Must have been a couple hours, mainly because I forgot where I left my damn car.
There's something soothing about walking aimlessly in the dark when nobody's about. Passed the same sleeping homeless guy twice, and on the second pass, I left a twenty behind. Seemed like an appropriate thing to do. Don't know why.
I only wish I hadn't left the house so fast. I spent the last hour of my stroll rubbing my arms, trying to encourage better circulation while I looked for somewhere warm to spend a bit of time. At least long enough to get the blood flowing a little faster. It would figure that I'd find myself hell far and gone from the hotel district at just about this time. Next time I'm blind with rage, I think I should make a mental note to bring my goddamn jacket or wear a sweater. Thank god I hadn't taken my wallet out of my trousers, or I would have been even further up the creek.
I did eventually find the car. Got in, turned it on, flipped on the headlights, gave the windshield a quick squirt of washer fluid to get rid of some great big bloody squashed bug, and saw something white flutter out from underneath the driver's side wiper. Damn flyers. They're everywhere.
Gripped the steering wheel and steeled myself against the inevitable. I think it took me about 10 minutes before I threw the car into Drive. And another 3 before I took my foot off the brake.
And now I'm sitting here, outside my own damn house, unable to step out into the greying dark and simply cross the bloody street. I'm going to have to go in eventually, I know.
Fuck.
Miranda snores. not a lot, mind you, just this regular, rough intake of breath. small rolling noise. can't hear it when I'm asleep. which is a state i am not in right now.
woke up around 4:30 am. all this drama is doing horrible things to my internal clock. didn't help that Mir was still sleeping on my arm. she's lovely and light, but she was doing a good impression of a dead weight. couldn't feel my own fingers. took me a while to free my arm, but i managed it without waking her up. will have to keep arm-releasing technique in mind for later. perhaps consider patenting it. thought about pushing back the covers, skimming my hands over her skin, moving down her body to take her nipples in my mouth, roll my tongue over them and wake her up by degrees, but my bladder had other ideas.
got up, decided i could really use a piss. managed to pull on jeans and navigate my way down the hallway to the bathroom without having to turn any lights on. stared at my stylish reflection in the mirror over the sink and noticed that the tiling around it is sporting a bit of mildew. someone should take a look at that, clean it up before it eats away the grout.
had thoughts of returning to Miranda, breathing her in.
am quite sure the universe hates me, and i'm pretty sure i haven't drowned any kittens lately. just drunken debauchery, some not-so-drunken debauchery, that sort of thing.
was almost safe back inside the spare room, within steps of mutual nakedness, the door almost closed behind me, when i heard someone say from the hallway "where the fuck have you been?"
i stopped, door still slightly ajar, and opened my mouth, pithy explanation at the ready. Viggo's voice cut me short though, and he said in considerably softer tones, "we've been worried sick. we've been all over town, looking for you."
ah. not me.
Sean said, very clearly, "not now, Vig. not fucking now." someone must have turned on a lamp, because i could see the outline of the door, dark wood against low light. at least he'd come back. about time.
heard some shuffling, and then Viggo's voice again, a little closer this time. "what is your problem?"
"none of your business. leave me alone."
of course, i'm not the nosy type or anything, but given all the crap that's gone on since i've been here, i think i've earned the right to watch it all play out. opened the door a bit so i had a view of the hallway. Sean and Viggo were only a couple feet away, Viggo clearly blocking Sean's route, one arm out, hand resting on the wall. thought about waking Mir, telling her that Sean was home and asking if she wanted to watch with me, but decided that might be pushing "accidentally overhearing" into "intentionally snooping," and i think we've hit our quota for that today. (must find a way to work those pictures of Sean and Viggo together casually into conversation. has excellent possibilities.)
so of course i've got a great view now, and lucky me, nobody's looking my way. this is good. granted, they're standing on a slight angle, Sean mostly facing away from me (although i could still see one side of his face) so Viggo's the only one who'd see me, and only if he squinted down the hallway. looked a bit too preoccupied to search for lurking listeners.
he lifted a hand, looked like he was going to brush Sean's cheek with his fingers, and said "i'm not leaving you alone, and it is my fucking business. you're my fucking business, elskede."
Sean grabbed Vig's hand before it made contact, thrust it away from him. couldn't see enough of his face to judge his mood for sure, but he let venom drip thickly into his voice. "don't you think you're spreading yourself a bit thin in that area?"
"excuse me?"
"don't play innocent, Viggo. i'm tired of that little song and dance."
"what is it you think i've done, Sean?" Viggo still sounded patient. like he'd gone through these kind of arguments before, knew that anger fuelled anger, and was carefully avoiding lighting the fuse.
Sean's cold, liquid tone dropped away, replaced by something that sounded like it was on the fast track to fury. not much control of his temper, that one. "for fuck's... you couldn't just damn well tell me, could you? couldn't come out and say it. no. oh, no. does it give you some sort of perverse pleasure, fucking around on me? fucking with me? Penelope, indeed. that's a laugh."
don't know how Viggo stayed so calm, but he did. sure, there was an edge to his words, but still... i suppose so much of how any argument goes hinges on how well you know your lover. i wonder how Miranda fights. bet it's as dirtily as she talks. mmm. wonder if i should provoke her, just to see...
"the pleasure i take in fucking with you, elskede," Viggo said, "is far from perverse. if you have something to say, say it."
Sean made this funny noise, halfway between a snort and choking. ow. must have hurt. "Harry, Viggo. Harry. is he the first? or have there been others?" his back was ramrod straight, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. wondered if i should get ready to grab him again, but became rapidly apparent that he was locked in place.
"Harry?"
"Sinclair, you bastard. or do you not even bother to remember their names?"
"i thought i told you, there has only ever been you. i'm not sleeping with Harry, Sean."
"sure. only me. just me. right. well, that clears everything up then. how could i be so goddamn stupid?" Viggo relaxed a bit at that, moved his blocking arm away from the wall. poor guy, didn't really see what was coming, even though it was plain as day.
Sean seemed to take special relish in his next words. he leaned toward Viggo, inclining his head ever so slightly, closing just a little of the distance between them so he could hiss, "...except for the fact that Harry, well, he enlightened me, Vig. good of at least one of you to fess up."
good on Viggo, though. he barely missed a beat. but then, maybe i misjudged, and he was expecting that one all along. said, "he lied to you, Sean." tried to touch his face again. bloody soothing, that man. suspect he'd make a nice, lazy fuck.
Sean wasn't having any of it. was surprised he didn't wake Mir up with his "don't you fucking touch me," because ow, loud. batted away the hand. he kept yelling, too. said "you think i'm stupid enough to believe everything i hear? anything some arse off the street tells me?" strode over to the back of the couch, grabbed at something book-shaped, presumably a book, that was perched there, and brought it back to Vig, who hadn't even bothered to move. guess he figured Sean wasn't about to run off anywhere now that he was yelling bloody murder. couldn't really see what was going on, but Sean seemed to fumble with something, then was thrusting sheets of paper at Vig and saying, "i didn't need to be told a fairy story. i've seen enough to judge for myself."
Viggo didn't touch the proffered papers. "they're not real, Sean. Harry... he had someone make them up on a computer. they're not real. or do you trust him more than you trust me?"
that was when my foot started to cramp up, which, word to the wise, makes it hard to pay attention. good idea to stretch a bit before trying full-contact eavesdropping. i grimaced, tried to shift my weight unobtrusively, not bring attention to myself with too much movement.
wouldn't have mattered anyway, because things started to go off the rails at an alarming rate. there was a slight pause, as if Sean was trying to collect his thoughts, and then he started to laugh. this jerky, hitching laugh that made his shoulders twitch, and seemed to make it hard to do much more than repeat himself. "trust? trust?" he let the book slip from his fingers, and i jumped a bit as it hit the floor. it fell open, and a whole bunch of paper spilled out. more for Dave to pick up, i expect.
"yes, trust. you still remember what that is, elskede?" Viggo's a tenacious bastard. up went the hand, and i was ready to bet the bank that he was going to be rebuffed again.
Sean's laughter took on a brittle quality, as if the sound was shattering before it could leave his mouth. he made no move to push Viggo away this time. instead he closed his eyes, breathed deeply as Viggo's fingers stroked his cheek. the laughter stopped, and in low voice that i was lucky i caught he said, "don't call me that." opened his eyes, seemed to regroup long enough to say "i trust you enough to be up front and honest with me, just like you were in all those letters you sent me. you know, the ones where you didn't quite tell me you were fucking Harry? the ones where you never quite said you were, and never quite said you weren't?"
"i'm not fucking Harry. i've never fucked Harry. i have no intention of ever fucking Harry."
hey, i'm convinced.
apparently Sean was not. the weird laughter started again, shoulders hitching. "see? that wasn't so hard, was it?" he kept laughing, then turned abruptly toward the wall and nailed it with his fist.
there was a noise as something cracked.
Sean had clipped one of the photos on the wall, smashed his knuckles right into the glass. didn't pull away, though. just left his hand there, still curled, still laughing. he leaned forward a bit, rested his forehead on the wall.
Viggo went dead silent for a moment. closed his eyes, and muttered, "i should have killed him. i should have fucking killed him today." he pulled at a shoulder, turned Sean away from the wall, and as his hand came away, the photo dropped to the ground. Sean stared at it, but it was pretty obvious he wasn't really seeing it. Viggo grabbed his chin, turned Sean's face to his own, which seemed to make Sean laugh harder. i don't ever want to hear that sound again.
that was when Viggo slapped him.
thank god.
quieted Sean right down right away. he hissed "fuck off," but that was the height of his resistance. his knees buckled, and he leaned back, slid down the wall. think he might have sat on some of the broken glass.
felt something brush up next to me, and turned to see Mir, still a bit sleepy and wearing. my. shirt. does she do that on purpose? looked at me, said she'd heard something break. i pointed down the hall. Viggo was kneeling next to Sean, wrapping his arms around him. could no longer see Sean's face, but the strange, jerking movement he'd made while laughing had been replaced by a mild shaking. suspected he was crying, but couldn't say for sure.
Mir wanted to go to them, but i grabbed her arm, held her back, suggested she go back to bed. was really surprised when she actually listened to me. took it upon myself to venture out to the bathroom again, this time bringing back their woefully understocked medical kit. left it by Viggo, then went back to the spare room with Mir. there'll be time for talking to them later.
did get a glimpse of the poor, victimized photo as i went by, though. smeared with blood, but i think it was that nice one of Viggo and Sean in full costume, grimly staring down the camera on the Caradhras set.
~D