The months spent in Ireland had all passed in a similar silence. A strange, stiff depression, aggression, an barely held patience for an unknown end. At least on the boat that far horizon seemed limitless. Here, it seemed endless.
So the heaviness in the air did not seem so out of place. It was only Edric, stiff in a deep leather chair, that betrayed any clue of the scene. Most importantly, that it clearly wasn't him that Theo had lost. Less evident were the clues left in his dress; the layers of black, from his tie to his vest to his onyx cuff links. The rigidness in his seat; not his usual splayed slouch, but a careful, straight backed primness from a tension that carried from his jaw to his firmly planted feet.
There wasn't any word to acknowledge Theo's abrupt, flustered appearance. Only a slow exhale and a level stare, dark and cold and hardly inquisitive.
It had been still; dust settled and white and layered. They hadn't moved. The tea was long cold and filmed at the top. Rudy's fingers numbed between the heavy covers of books. The Man and the Sea. Oliver Twist (particularly sleepy). The Gun Seller (too absurd to continue).
Ed was dead across the room, one with the chair, his hands as dry and leathery as it's arms, his eyes as cold and lifeless as it's small wooden feet. Rudy tore his eyes away from the latest book to look up again, smile on his face. Ready to say "Rayner was a dangerous man," but couldn't. Ed seemed to stop breathing, the rustle of his shirt stopped entirely. Rudy's heart gave another vicious pang.
He sat up in his chair, the leather squeaking, and eyed Edric more closely, lips parted like so many times before that day to say something but it was only pain that washed out, surprisingly silent. The sudden flurry and the breaking of the silence was enough to have him falling back into his perch, book falling from his fingers to the floor as his eyes swiveled to the
( ... )
"Wha-" Theodore blinked, turning towards Rudy's voice, brow furrowed, "Mar-no, but Ewling, he...where's my father?" His anxious tone gave him away. Ewling was only supposed to pass on to him if Edric was dead. His head turned about the room anxiously, trying to scan for noises.
What did he mean gone...? Gone like...
He paused, realization seeming to dawn on him, lips parting. "...She is?" he repeated numbly, turning back to Rudy.
There was really very few ways to deliver such news. Edric wasn't prepared for it, so he didn't fault Rudy at all for the clumsy way it was handled. It was the first question that finally got a reaction from Edric-- the tendons standing out starkly on his neck retreating for a moment and his eyebrows raising, confused out of his tense repression.
It only lasted a moment, the mention of Ewling bringing the scene all together for him, and the leather creaked as he slowly leaned back into the seat. The only other offer of his presence given was the distinctive striking of a match, and the wafting smell of bitter licorice.
It wasn't that he had nothing to say to his son. Edric just didn't know where to start. And while it seemed like the clear opener, an apology was out of the question. An apology meant guilt, and Edric did not like to see himself as a guilty man. No matter how unavoidable the accusation was.
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So the heaviness in the air did not seem so out of place. It was only Edric, stiff in a deep leather chair, that betrayed any clue of the scene. Most importantly, that it clearly wasn't him that Theo had lost. Less evident were the clues left in his dress; the layers of black, from his tie to his vest to his onyx cuff links. The rigidness in his seat; not his usual splayed slouch, but a careful, straight backed primness from a tension that carried from his jaw to his firmly planted feet.
There wasn't any word to acknowledge Theo's abrupt, flustered appearance. Only a slow exhale and a level stare, dark and cold and hardly inquisitive.
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Ed was dead across the room, one with the chair, his hands as dry and leathery as it's arms, his eyes as cold and lifeless as it's small wooden feet. Rudy tore his eyes away from the latest book to look up again, smile on his face. Ready to say "Rayner was a dangerous man," but couldn't. Ed seemed to stop breathing, the rustle of his shirt stopped entirely. Rudy's heart gave another vicious pang.
He sat up in his chair, the leather squeaking, and eyed Edric more closely, lips parted like so many times before that day to say something but it was only pain that washed out, surprisingly silent. The sudden flurry and the breaking of the silence was enough to have him falling back into his perch, book falling from his fingers to the floor as his eyes swiveled to the ( ... )
Reply
What did he mean gone...? Gone like...
He paused, realization seeming to dawn on him, lips parting. "...She is?" he repeated numbly, turning back to Rudy.
Reply
It only lasted a moment, the mention of Ewling bringing the scene all together for him, and the leather creaked as he slowly leaned back into the seat. The only other offer of his presence given was the distinctive striking of a match, and the wafting smell of bitter licorice.
It wasn't that he had nothing to say to his son. Edric just didn't know where to start. And while it seemed like the clear opener, an apology was out of the question. An apology meant guilt, and Edric did not like to see himself as a guilty man. No matter how unavoidable the accusation was.
Reply
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