(no subject)
The two weeks since New Year's have seemed in turns interminably long and like they've been racing by far too quickly. While the same could be said of time in general on the island, it's nothing compared to how Lexie has felt since Mark showed up kissing her, since they had very good but very ill-advised sex in an empty Compound room, since she told him it was a mistake and left him there - not an easy thing to do by any means, but one that, even two weeks after the fact, she's convinced was necessary. She has, in that time, taken to carefully avoiding him, lying low so as to not wind up running into each other, and that, too, is surprisingly painful for a deliberate choice on her part. She can't trust herself around him, though. If there's one thing she learned in those early hours of the new year, it's that.
When she can manage to ignore how godawful it feels, having walked away from what might have been her only chance with Mark (but would it have really been a chance, though, when they had so many problems, and she has no idea why he was kissing her, what could have happened to make him stop acting like she didn't exist?), not to mention breaking up with Sawyer, they're an uneventful two weeks, too. The snow vanishes and she's disappointed, but there's a rhythm to life on the island, and she'd finally grown accustomed to it before Mark arrived. She has no intention of letting him disrupt that so fully. All she has to do is act like nothing's happened.
And then she hears that a man died. All things considered, Lexie shouldn't be bothered by it. As a doctor, she witnessed death on a daily basis, and she didn't even know the guy, or the family he left behind. It somehow has more of an impact here, though, where injuries and illness alone are few and far between, and she's always been emotional. The news hits suddenly and overwhelmingly, and on what's supposed to be an ordinary Saturday, she finds herself sitting on a fallen log beside the path, halfway between the Compound and her hut, face buried in her hands as she cries.
When she can manage to ignore how godawful it feels, having walked away from what might have been her only chance with Mark (but would it have really been a chance, though, when they had so many problems, and she has no idea why he was kissing her, what could have happened to make him stop acting like she didn't exist?), not to mention breaking up with Sawyer, they're an uneventful two weeks, too. The snow vanishes and she's disappointed, but there's a rhythm to life on the island, and she'd finally grown accustomed to it before Mark arrived. She has no intention of letting him disrupt that so fully. All she has to do is act like nothing's happened.
And then she hears that a man died. All things considered, Lexie shouldn't be bothered by it. As a doctor, she witnessed death on a daily basis, and she didn't even know the guy, or the family he left behind. It somehow has more of an impact here, though, where injuries and illness alone are few and far between, and she's always been emotional. The news hits suddenly and overwhelmingly, and on what's supposed to be an ordinary Saturday, she finds herself sitting on a fallen log beside the path, halfway between the Compound and her hut, face buried in her hands as she cries.