(no subject)
Lipton was making a chair. Woodworking had always been a hobby of his, and while he was by no means an expert, he could usually turn out simple furniture with clean lines and sturdy frames. He'd learnt as much from a childhood tendency to take things apart and put them back together again as he had from any person - just as he'd learnt that once you took something apart, it was always far more difficult, and sometimes impossible, to reassemble it.
He sanded the piece of wood he was working on, his face set. The plan had been to make a chair, but that had been hours ago, and the decent finished product stood a few feet away. So the plan had changed, and that chair was quickly on it's way to becoming part of a set. Between Currahee, the Officers' Club and the Boarding House, he was sure to find some corner to shove them in.
The Boarding House. It had only been a day since the conversation there that was the real reason why he was on a chair building spree.
Lipton liked facts. They were straightforward, clearly right or wrong, and could be strung together into theories or strategies.
So. The facts, as he understood them, stood thus:
1) He was married.
2) The woman he was in love with was not his wife.
3) His feelings were reciprocated.
4) She had removed herself and her daughter from his life.
And, despite how many times he went over the points in his head, there was not a thing he could do about any of it. And so he sanded, and kept himself busy, and tried not to think about how Miss Bennet and Lydia had filled some missing part of him that he hadn't really realized had been lacking until they were gone. He kept sanding, and ignored the guilt and self-disgust twisting in his gut that he felt this way at all.
((He's out behind the Officers' Club, and obviously chanelling his feelings about something into that woodworking. ST/LT loved!))
He sanded the piece of wood he was working on, his face set. The plan had been to make a chair, but that had been hours ago, and the decent finished product stood a few feet away. So the plan had changed, and that chair was quickly on it's way to becoming part of a set. Between Currahee, the Officers' Club and the Boarding House, he was sure to find some corner to shove them in.
The Boarding House. It had only been a day since the conversation there that was the real reason why he was on a chair building spree.
Lipton liked facts. They were straightforward, clearly right or wrong, and could be strung together into theories or strategies.
So. The facts, as he understood them, stood thus:
1) He was married.
2) The woman he was in love with was not his wife.
3) His feelings were reciprocated.
4) She had removed herself and her daughter from his life.
And, despite how many times he went over the points in his head, there was not a thing he could do about any of it. And so he sanded, and kept himself busy, and tried not to think about how Miss Bennet and Lydia had filled some missing part of him that he hadn't really realized had been lacking until they were gone. He kept sanding, and ignored the guilt and self-disgust twisting in his gut that he felt this way at all.
((He's out behind the Officers' Club, and obviously chanelling his feelings about something into that woodworking. ST/LT loved!))