[ closed; ongoing ]
Characters: cashnotash and misrecollect
Location: Their apartment at Death City Heights
Rating: PG-13
Time: Backdated to the morning of November 28.
Description: Professing an ~*undying love*~ is never an easy job. Refer to this thread for context. marriedmarriedmarried
[ It was disturbing.
Though the rest of the day was uneventful, save for the other visitors he had received, Alice’s words was stuck in Iceland’s head. Or rather, what she did was startlingly disturbing, and not exactly in a bad way. It mystifies him and left him nearly sleepless. Actually, the kiss itself didn’t bother him that much, but the apparent implications behind it did. Not because he still haven’t come to terms with his own feelings concerning her and their relationship, but more because he doesn’t know what to do with all those allusions. He may be well versed in dozens other things, and was fluent in quite a lot of languages, but he’s completely blind when it comes to this. Sometimes he wondered how the hell did he got tangled in this whole love business. Especially in another world. With someone from yet another world who shared a name with a famous fictional character.
Now he seriously wondered if his life in Death City was actually a romance novel gone horrible.
It’s worth contemplating, but there is such thing as priorities. Meaning he still yet to find out about what to do, how to act, and junk like that, even when he’s standing in front of their apartment door. At 7 am. Maybe he should have come home later, but he promised her he’s going to to show up in the doorstep first thing in the morning (although he’s quite certain she didn’t hear that, since she’d fled). He can’t really sleep, anyway, so what’s the point in prolonging his stay in the clinic?
He’d considered asking someone for advice last night, preferably someone close to him who’s proficient in these kind of things, but then he remembered that no one qualifies. Besides, it’s embarrassing. Not to mention personal. There’s no way he’s going to tell someone about this, not even someone he considered a close friend. He’d also considered bringing her a gift (the dreaded confession is bound to happen, even if he thought that it’s a bit premature), but, you know, it’s 2009 (in this world) and he’d always considered himself as the unconventional sort-of guy. Which is actually an euphemism for “unromantic” and possibly “insensitive”, but what do you know.
So, seven in the morning, in front of their doorstep, he barely slept last night, and his body was still kind of hurt after all those kicking ass. The first thing he’s going to do is announcing about The Talk, and then he’ll escape to the shower (preferably with as little fussing as possible), where he’s going to plan his next move. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he finally managed to hatch himself a plan. It’s…far from brilliant, but it’s still a plan, nevertheless.
And at last, after hesitating for quite a while, he bravely knocked at the door. Alice probably wouldn’t approve of his new look (read: messy) and new scent (he smelled like antiseptic now, thanks a lot, clinic), but that’s what showers are for, right? Besides, there is such thing as loving people just the way they are… ]
Location: Their apartment at Death City Heights
Rating: PG-13
Time: Backdated to the morning of November 28.
Description: Professing an ~*undying love*~ is never an easy job. Refer to this thread for context. marriedmarriedmarried
[ It was disturbing.
Though the rest of the day was uneventful, save for the other visitors he had received, Alice’s words was stuck in Iceland’s head. Or rather, what she did was startlingly disturbing, and not exactly in a bad way. It mystifies him and left him nearly sleepless. Actually, the kiss itself didn’t bother him that much, but the apparent implications behind it did. Not because he still haven’t come to terms with his own feelings concerning her and their relationship, but more because he doesn’t know what to do with all those allusions. He may be well versed in dozens other things, and was fluent in quite a lot of languages, but he’s completely blind when it comes to this. Sometimes he wondered how the hell did he got tangled in this whole love business. Especially in another world. With someone from yet another world who shared a name with a famous fictional character.
Now he seriously wondered if his life in Death City was actually a romance novel gone horrible.
It’s worth contemplating, but there is such thing as priorities. Meaning he still yet to find out about what to do, how to act, and junk like that, even when he’s standing in front of their apartment door. At 7 am. Maybe he should have come home later, but he promised her he’s going to to show up in the doorstep first thing in the morning (although he’s quite certain she didn’t hear that, since she’d fled). He can’t really sleep, anyway, so what’s the point in prolonging his stay in the clinic?
He’d considered asking someone for advice last night, preferably someone close to him who’s proficient in these kind of things, but then he remembered that no one qualifies. Besides, it’s embarrassing. Not to mention personal. There’s no way he’s going to tell someone about this, not even someone he considered a close friend. He’d also considered bringing her a gift (the dreaded confession is bound to happen, even if he thought that it’s a bit premature), but, you know, it’s 2009 (in this world) and he’d always considered himself as the unconventional sort-of guy. Which is actually an euphemism for “unromantic” and possibly “insensitive”, but what do you know.
So, seven in the morning, in front of their doorstep, he barely slept last night, and his body was still kind of hurt after all those kicking ass. The first thing he’s going to do is announcing about The Talk, and then he’ll escape to the shower (preferably with as little fussing as possible), where he’s going to plan his next move. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, he finally managed to hatch himself a plan. It’s…far from brilliant, but it’s still a plan, nevertheless.
And at last, after hesitating for quite a while, he bravely knocked at the door. Alice probably wouldn’t approve of his new look (read: messy) and new scent (he smelled like antiseptic now, thanks a lot, clinic), but that’s what showers are for, right? Besides, there is such thing as loving people just the way they are… ]