Roger, Andy, G
The eighteenth prompt from my table:
084. He
“I don’t understand,” Roger says softly, finally emerging from the washroom, mercifully dry excepting around his eyes, to take a seat in the armchair facing Mardy’s position on the couch, “why are you here?”
Mardy sits back slightly, watching him toy with the fringe of an ivory throw pillow, unbelievably a spot of color in this room awash with whites, “we are friends,” he asks, “aren’t we?”
“Well, yes,” Roger replies, looking at him now, brown eyes damp still, “but he’s your best friend.”
“That’s news to me,” Mardy says, “he certainly hasn’t been acting like it.”
“I’m sorry,” Roger says, looking down and away once again, legs curling underneath him. Mirka watches on, clutching desperately to the neck of her bottle of tequila. “If I hadn’t messed up, you wouldn’t be in this position.”
Mirka takes another gulp, and Mardy wishes nothing more than to join her and let this all fall into oblivion, “Roger,” he says, and pauses, unsure how to proceed, “Roger, none of this is your fault; Andy just woke up one morning willfully divorced from sense and reality. He decided to throw everything away for, for nothing; in no way are you responsible for any of this.”
“I’m sorry,” Roger repeats, falling further in upon himself, and Mardy thinks that maybe it is time to bring in the big guns.
Posted to tennisslash.
084. He
“I don’t understand,” Roger says softly, finally emerging from the washroom, mercifully dry excepting around his eyes, to take a seat in the armchair facing Mardy’s position on the couch, “why are you here?”
Mardy sits back slightly, watching him toy with the fringe of an ivory throw pillow, unbelievably a spot of color in this room awash with whites, “we are friends,” he asks, “aren’t we?”
“Well, yes,” Roger replies, looking at him now, brown eyes damp still, “but he’s your best friend.”
“That’s news to me,” Mardy says, “he certainly hasn’t been acting like it.”
“I’m sorry,” Roger says, looking down and away once again, legs curling underneath him. Mirka watches on, clutching desperately to the neck of her bottle of tequila. “If I hadn’t messed up, you wouldn’t be in this position.”
Mirka takes another gulp, and Mardy wishes nothing more than to join her and let this all fall into oblivion, “Roger,” he says, and pauses, unsure how to proceed, “Roger, none of this is your fault; Andy just woke up one morning willfully divorced from sense and reality. He decided to throw everything away for, for nothing; in no way are you responsible for any of this.”
“I’m sorry,” Roger repeats, falling further in upon himself, and Mardy thinks that maybe it is time to bring in the big guns.
Posted to tennisslash.