it's something very metaphorical and no it's not pretentious 8|40410July 28 2010, 14:45:31 UTC
You know what's less awesome?
When Bar won't serve you what you're asking for. And when you realise with a sinking feeling that she's never going to, but you have to ask once more, just in case, and then once more, more forcefully, and then when you realise you're getting angry and frantic snatching yourself away and changing your order to a pitcher of water (no ice) and almost pouring it all over your face right there in the taproom, but stopping yourself. Because it's shameful. You shouldn't even have been asking. You can at least do it outside, you streak of shit.
When Sherlock Holmes wants to follow you unseen, you don't stand a chance. Besides, Alex is distracted trying not to be distracted.
When he gets through the door to the lake, he immediately goes sideways and leans with his shoulderblades against the wall. Alex stares at the water for a long moment. He could still throw it away. Just spill it on the grass. But it's a stopgap; if he doesn't use it he knows he'll just go back inside, inevitably, and try to demand what he really wants.
His forearms are red where he's been scratching them, and his eyes are darting and sleepless. There are no track-marks, though. Those were healed without scars.
At last, he tilts his head back, closes his eyes, takes a breath and pours the whole pitcherful over his face.
Comments 33
When Bar won't serve you what you're asking for. And when you realise with a sinking feeling that she's never going to, but you have to ask once more, just in case, and then once more, more forcefully, and then when you realise you're getting angry and frantic snatching yourself away and changing your order to a pitcher of water (no ice) and almost pouring it all over your face right there in the taproom, but stopping yourself. Because it's shameful. You shouldn't even have been asking. You can at least do it outside, you streak of shit.
That's less awesome.
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Awesome, perhaps not.
Intriguing, however? Highly.
He follows.
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When he gets through the door to the lake, he immediately goes sideways and leans with his shoulderblades against the wall. Alex stares at the water for a long moment. He could still throw it away. Just spill it on the grass. But it's a stopgap; if he doesn't use it he knows he'll just go back inside, inevitably, and try to demand what he really wants.
His forearms are red where he's been scratching them, and his eyes are darting and sleepless. There are no track-marks, though. Those were healed without scars.
At last, he tilts his head back, closes his eyes, takes a breath and pours the whole pitcherful over his face.
Reply
That water, however-it must be intended to produce some effect. He looks closer.
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