Summertime means Ice Cream and Innocence, right? ...Right? [OTA]
The heat of the summer meant David had been doing pretty good business at the soda shop. For some people, he'd heard it was nostalgia, for others it was novelty, for others a taste of home. Whatever worked for them, he kept it up, making sure there was always plenty of options for ice cream sundaes and sodas of every flavor. It wasn't really what he'd ever seen himself doing. Really, he could have applied at the garage, like his mom's car shop back home. He knew how to fix things, after all.
But...he'd needed a change. He'd needed something that broke with David, son of Jessie, first beloved, then enemy of Silas the king. He'd needed something that didn't harken back to that mythic figure in the black leather book with it's red gilt pages. He'd needed something that was so far away from Jack's scene it gave him a way not to think of the prince when he was out of the room they shared.
It was bad enough to have to have him on his mind all the time without looking around and seeing things that brought him to mind. Nothing in the cheerful little shop seemed to say "Jack," though, and that helped immensely. He was wiping down the counter after a bit of a rush, whistling to himself, wondering if this was what peace felt like, or if it was just a lull in the storm. He suspected the latter, but for a little while it was nice to pretend, even if he was just fooling himself.
But...he'd needed a change. He'd needed something that broke with David, son of Jessie, first beloved, then enemy of Silas the king. He'd needed something that didn't harken back to that mythic figure in the black leather book with it's red gilt pages. He'd needed something that was so far away from Jack's scene it gave him a way not to think of the prince when he was out of the room they shared.
It was bad enough to have to have him on his mind all the time without looking around and seeing things that brought him to mind. Nothing in the cheerful little shop seemed to say "Jack," though, and that helped immensely. He was wiping down the counter after a bit of a rush, whistling to himself, wondering if this was what peace felt like, or if it was just a lull in the storm. He suspected the latter, but for a little while it was nice to pretend, even if he was just fooling himself.