(Untitled)

[rage_andlove]

Something isn't right. He realises that before he's even awake. He's been having fractured, strange dreams and he wakes up, pressing the curtain of hair back from his face. He frowns. He stretches. He suddenly

Comments

[first_pink_lady]

When Rizzo stumbled into the kitchen for morning coffee, it had only taken a few moments, even before the caffiene kick, to realize that the island had put a fucking magical bee in everyone's bonnet. Again. Luckily, she still had her own feminine figure, thank Jesus, and it had been her second thought to go check, coffee in hand, that Paul was still, well, Pauly and not Polly.

If she also wants to see the soldier fella again, well, that was just convenient, and may or may not have a correllation to the slightly increased frequency of her visits to Paul at the clinic.

She ducks her head in, ready to move on to find Paul if the guy's still asleep, only to freeze and stare, agape, at the blonde in his place. She might've thought that he'd switched beds, if it weren't for the look on his - her - face. Her face splits into a grin, and she slid into the room. "Well, ain't you just a doll."

[rage_andlove]

"I'm not saying that that's not a fucking problem, but it's not much of one today," he snaps, and the colour in his face only gets darker. He rubs the tip of his nose with one small hand.

"I'm a fuck up, okay?" he says, eyes closing. "And you'd be better off fucking someone else, Betty. If that's what you want. Because I? Am not much of a fucking prize anymore."

If he was ever.
Was he ever?

[first_pink_lady]

Fuck, she'd made things worse with her attempt at a joke - she would never have given him a hard time about a problem like that if it'd been real, but he didn't fucking know that. She wasn't a nice girl, she didn't say peachy keen things that made people feel all warm inside like Sandy or Frenchie.

Hell, one of those ladies would insist that he was what she wanted, and he was a fucking prize no matter what the plumbing, and assure him that if he was worried that he was damaged goods, well, her shit was just as fucked up even if she had all her limbs intact.

She wouldn't say that, though. She couldn't. Because she wasn't much of a goddamn prize herself. "It's your lucky day, Doris Day. My prize shelf is full." She should have just left, and saved them this awkwardness - but she cared, and that could only lead to more bad things.

[rage_andlove]

The back of his eyes prickle and, fuck it, he is not going to cry because he's humiliated enough. He covers his face with both hands for a moment and then he scrubs his hands back through his long hair.

"I can't even walk," he says. "How the fuck do you expect me to know how to fuck anymore."

[first_pink_lady]

Do you walk with your dick in the twenty-first century? Rizzo wanted to snap, but even she knew to bite her fucking tongue on that one. Instead she just snorted. "As a lady, all you gotta do is lay back and open your legs. Think of England, if that's your thing." She wasn't about to go back anywhere near him, not now, but she said it anyway.