(no subject)
The house is quiet.
Uncomfortably, oppressively quiet, in fact, but as Shelley sternly reminds herself, still better than it had been with Elan... staring over her shoulder in that way he has where he's not actually doing anything but is still making his presence unbearable. She's sitting in the kitchen, where she had been when he left, staring at a cup of tea as it grows cold, and trying to recall how one goes back to 'normal.' There is a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that if she ever got there, she wouldn't recognise it anyway.
But they only...
Shelley clenches her fists miserably, cheeks reddening just at the memory - which is for some reason etched crystal-clear into her mind, when so much else gets easily blurred and confused - and gets up shakily to wash out her mug and the teapot. No good. She can't think about it rationally, which is probably a sign that it was a huge mistake. As if she needed convincing.
Oh dear.
The phone rings, and she drops the cup.
"Bugger, bugger, um-" beep "Yes? Hello?!"
She takes a deep breath at the voice on the other end, calming down.
"Oh. Yes, hello. Um, what's the problem? Oh. Yes, okay. No, no! I can come! Yes. Fine. Why? Everything is perfectly normal okay I will see you in half an hour goodbye!"
Shelley puts the phone down firmly. She still isn't quite sure what work needs her for, but the idea of going to find out seems to her a good, sensible and overall distracting idea. She pauses to pick up her cup and halfheartedly mop up the spilt tea, then heads upstairs for her jacket and shoes.
It's a completely normal day. She just... needs help feeling like it is.
Uncomfortably, oppressively quiet, in fact, but as Shelley sternly reminds herself, still better than it had been with Elan... staring over her shoulder in that way he has where he's not actually doing anything but is still making his presence unbearable. She's sitting in the kitchen, where she had been when he left, staring at a cup of tea as it grows cold, and trying to recall how one goes back to 'normal.' There is a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that if she ever got there, she wouldn't recognise it anyway.
But they only...
Shelley clenches her fists miserably, cheeks reddening just at the memory - which is for some reason etched crystal-clear into her mind, when so much else gets easily blurred and confused - and gets up shakily to wash out her mug and the teapot. No good. She can't think about it rationally, which is probably a sign that it was a huge mistake. As if she needed convincing.
Oh dear.
The phone rings, and she drops the cup.
"Bugger, bugger, um-" beep "Yes? Hello?!"
She takes a deep breath at the voice on the other end, calming down.
"Oh. Yes, hello. Um, what's the problem? Oh. Yes, okay. No, no! I can come! Yes. Fine. Why? Everything is perfectly normal okay I will see you in half an hour goodbye!"
Shelley puts the phone down firmly. She still isn't quite sure what work needs her for, but the idea of going to find out seems to her a good, sensible and overall distracting idea. She pauses to pick up her cup and halfheartedly mop up the spilt tea, then heads upstairs for her jacket and shoes.
It's a completely normal day. She just... needs help feeling like it is.