(no subject)
Who: Jeb, Az, and her guards.
When: January 19th, 9pm.
Where: Az's room, mostly.
What: Jeb feeling awful.
The morning after his long conversation with Kevin and Devlin, Jeb woke to find himself untied, and only one guard dozing off by his door. They'd spoken late into the night, Jeb learning many things he didn't want to know, and many things he couldn't believe he'd forgotten.
That morning, he'd woken up with the worst headache he'd had in years, and worse, the worst heartache as well. He couldn't believe what he'd done, that he could've been so easily confused and drugged to believe something other than the truth. On top of everything, he could not think of a way Az would ever want to speak to him or see him again. He'd slept with a damn fae, one of Zero's minions, and he'd gone on to hit Az, who was already pretty beaten up. That morning, Jeb didn't bother getting out of bed. Instead, the young man simply pulled the warmth of the covers around him, feeling hopelessly sick. That wasn't right, even drugged, without memory of five years of his life, he shouldn't have done that. It was completely immoral to hit a woman, especially one that'd been wounded.
Hell, he deserved the bruise he knew existed on his jaw, and he almost wished he had gotten hurt more. Perhaps then, he would have had an excuse to remain in bed all day and not need to face Az until a little bit later. Putting off your problems never solved them, but it lessened the immediate fear of them. How was he supposed to speak with her now? No, how was he supposed to live with himself now?
Around noon, the guard by the door was replaced, and a maid entered the room with a tray of something that smelled rather good. Jeb tried to eat, managing to force down some of the tomato soup before feeling the overwhelming urge to throw up, and pushing the rest aside. An hour later, the maid returned to pick up the uneaten meal to find the young man standing by the window, gazing blankly outside. It was a surprisingly nice day for such a mood... He should be out there, with Az, or at least simply with Az right now, not here, but he wasn't ready to face the world yet, and definitely not her. Jeb didn't even know what to say. Hell, he didn't deserve her now. He probably hadn't before, but definitely not now.
'Oh, I'm sorry I slept with another woman and then hit you...' didn't seem to cut it in any way, shape or form. At least three times an hour, he told himself he would go up to her room, if only to hear her say she never wanted to see him again, and three times an hour, Jeb failed to do more than turn around. Maybe... maybe tomorrow...
When: January 19th, 9pm.
Where: Az's room, mostly.
What: Jeb feeling awful.
The morning after his long conversation with Kevin and Devlin, Jeb woke to find himself untied, and only one guard dozing off by his door. They'd spoken late into the night, Jeb learning many things he didn't want to know, and many things he couldn't believe he'd forgotten.
That morning, he'd woken up with the worst headache he'd had in years, and worse, the worst heartache as well. He couldn't believe what he'd done, that he could've been so easily confused and drugged to believe something other than the truth. On top of everything, he could not think of a way Az would ever want to speak to him or see him again. He'd slept with a damn fae, one of Zero's minions, and he'd gone on to hit Az, who was already pretty beaten up. That morning, Jeb didn't bother getting out of bed. Instead, the young man simply pulled the warmth of the covers around him, feeling hopelessly sick. That wasn't right, even drugged, without memory of five years of his life, he shouldn't have done that. It was completely immoral to hit a woman, especially one that'd been wounded.
Hell, he deserved the bruise he knew existed on his jaw, and he almost wished he had gotten hurt more. Perhaps then, he would have had an excuse to remain in bed all day and not need to face Az until a little bit later. Putting off your problems never solved them, but it lessened the immediate fear of them. How was he supposed to speak with her now? No, how was he supposed to live with himself now?
Around noon, the guard by the door was replaced, and a maid entered the room with a tray of something that smelled rather good. Jeb tried to eat, managing to force down some of the tomato soup before feeling the overwhelming urge to throw up, and pushing the rest aside. An hour later, the maid returned to pick up the uneaten meal to find the young man standing by the window, gazing blankly outside. It was a surprisingly nice day for such a mood... He should be out there, with Az, or at least simply with Az right now, not here, but he wasn't ready to face the world yet, and definitely not her. Jeb didn't even know what to say. Hell, he didn't deserve her now. He probably hadn't before, but definitely not now.
'Oh, I'm sorry I slept with another woman and then hit you...' didn't seem to cut it in any way, shape or form. At least three times an hour, he told himself he would go up to her room, if only to hear her say she never wanted to see him again, and three times an hour, Jeb failed to do more than turn around. Maybe... maybe tomorrow...