RP: I need you now
Date: June 19th, 1999
Character(s): Eloise Midgen
Location: Her Flat
Status: Private
Summary: Eloise tries to sleep
Completion: complete
She needed a hobby. Something productive. Like sewing, maybe. Of course, she'd have to have at least one crafty bone in her body to make that work.
Maybe she could write a book. Then again, that would take serious follow through and self discipline.
Playing the guitar? That might be fun, but she wasn't really very musical.
Rolling over onto her side, Eloise let out a huff of frustration. This was the problem with being sort of good at a lot of things- there wasn't one area she excelled in. Hiding behind Meg had always worked in school, but t wasn't like that was an option now. Sure, she'd come out of her shell and all that, but Meg had always been there to deflect some of the attention and questions. Like what she did on the weekends.
When conversations with Wayne we strained, she knew it was time to evaluate her life. What id she do, anyway? There was work. And the book club. And...
That was about it.
Covering her eyes, she groaned. Distractions were good. Necessary. But what was one supposed to do when there was nothing else to do?
Eloise got out of bed and considered going down to visit Wayne. Checking the clock, she saw the time and sat back down. Even Wayne wouldn't appreciate a three AM visitor. What would be the purpose, anyway? To talk? She didn't have anything to talk about- that was the whole problem. She'd like to snuggle with someone, but Wayne obviously wasn't a candidate for that. She shook her head. Why did she need someone else, anyway? Why couldn't she entertain herself?
A friend of her Mum's had said to write down her feelings. Write letters to herself, to Meg, to her dad. That was supposed to help with the guilt and sadness.
Shouldn't she be over that by now? It had been a year, not a month. Wayne was over it, hell, even Ron seemed over it, and he'd lost his brother.
Why was she thinking about Ron at three in the morning? Eloise stiffened and tried to shake herself out of it. No way. Absolutely not. Wayne was one thing, as was Anthony she supposed, but she could not allow herself to think about Ron Weasley at three AM. Nononono. She smiled to herself. There, gone.
Eloise couldn't remember how many letters she'd started to Meg, only to give up after three sentences. The voice was gone completely now, which was both a relief and a disappointment. Hearing Meg when she'd been irrational or careless was sort of comforting. Maybe she needed to do something stupid again. She laughed at herself. That was the dumbest idea she'd ever had.
Still, something had to give. Her mind was going a mile a minute with thoughts of everything and nothing. She could have a glass of wine, maybe. That would put her to sleep. Eloise padded to the kitchen and was disappointed to see she'd finished her last bottle last week. Interesting.
Sitting down at her kitchen table, she tapped her fingernails against the wooden surface, finding the simple beat very soothing. The drums, maybe?
A hobby. Yes, that would solve everything.
Character(s): Eloise Midgen
Location: Her Flat
Status: Private
Summary: Eloise tries to sleep
Completion: complete
She needed a hobby. Something productive. Like sewing, maybe. Of course, she'd have to have at least one crafty bone in her body to make that work.
Maybe she could write a book. Then again, that would take serious follow through and self discipline.
Playing the guitar? That might be fun, but she wasn't really very musical.
Rolling over onto her side, Eloise let out a huff of frustration. This was the problem with being sort of good at a lot of things- there wasn't one area she excelled in. Hiding behind Meg had always worked in school, but t wasn't like that was an option now. Sure, she'd come out of her shell and all that, but Meg had always been there to deflect some of the attention and questions. Like what she did on the weekends.
When conversations with Wayne we strained, she knew it was time to evaluate her life. What id she do, anyway? There was work. And the book club. And...
That was about it.
Covering her eyes, she groaned. Distractions were good. Necessary. But what was one supposed to do when there was nothing else to do?
Eloise got out of bed and considered going down to visit Wayne. Checking the clock, she saw the time and sat back down. Even Wayne wouldn't appreciate a three AM visitor. What would be the purpose, anyway? To talk? She didn't have anything to talk about- that was the whole problem. She'd like to snuggle with someone, but Wayne obviously wasn't a candidate for that. She shook her head. Why did she need someone else, anyway? Why couldn't she entertain herself?
A friend of her Mum's had said to write down her feelings. Write letters to herself, to Meg, to her dad. That was supposed to help with the guilt and sadness.
Shouldn't she be over that by now? It had been a year, not a month. Wayne was over it, hell, even Ron seemed over it, and he'd lost his brother.
Why was she thinking about Ron at three in the morning? Eloise stiffened and tried to shake herself out of it. No way. Absolutely not. Wayne was one thing, as was Anthony she supposed, but she could not allow herself to think about Ron Weasley at three AM. Nononono. She smiled to herself. There, gone.
Eloise couldn't remember how many letters she'd started to Meg, only to give up after three sentences. The voice was gone completely now, which was both a relief and a disappointment. Hearing Meg when she'd been irrational or careless was sort of comforting. Maybe she needed to do something stupid again. She laughed at herself. That was the dumbest idea she'd ever had.
Still, something had to give. Her mind was going a mile a minute with thoughts of everything and nothing. She could have a glass of wine, maybe. That would put her to sleep. Eloise padded to the kitchen and was disappointed to see she'd finished her last bottle last week. Interesting.
Sitting down at her kitchen table, she tapped her fingernails against the wooden surface, finding the simple beat very soothing. The drums, maybe?
A hobby. Yes, that would solve everything.