(no subject)
JUST ENOUGH
[the secret history]
a charles/camilla fanmix
spoilers, spoilers, spoilers - i can't stress this enough. don't look if you're halfway through the book, or planning on reading it sometime soon.
I. just enough // toledo
well he drinks too much
she fucks too much
they lie to each other much too much
but they love each other just enough
just enough to keep coming back
sometimes he slaps her around with words
til her heartbeat hits the floor
he breaks her down, down, down
til she just can't take no more
"they're very jealous of each other," he said. "he much more so than she. i always thought it was a childish, charming thing, you know, all verbal rough-and-tumble, even julian used to tease them about it."
(...) "i think camilla and henry have been slipping around with each other for quite some time. i think charles has been suspicious for a while but until lately he didn't have any proof."
II. violent // stars
both wide awake
trying not to breathe for the other's sake
i'm not sure how much more of this
we're supposed to take
before we kill each other
i feel violent for you, lover
i feel violent for you, lover
never ever touch another
i feel violent for you, lover
"i want you to see something. look."
she held up a piece of the light hair near her temples. underneath was a scabbed spot about the size of a quarter where someone had, apparently, pulled a handful of hair out by the roots. i was too startled to say a thing.
"and this." she pushed up the sleeve of her sweater. the wrist was swollen and a bit discoloured, but what horrified me was a tiny, evil burn on the underside of the forearm: a cigarette burn, gouged deep and ugly in the ivory flesh.
it was a moment before i found my voice. "good god, camilla! charles did this?"
III. useless // imogen heap
i feel so useless, do you?
(...) i am your whore, without a name
i climb to fall, to begin again, to begin again
i climb to fall, suffer hatred, deceit and pain
anger, regret, loving in vain
(...) if i ever break away from you that day forth, you'll be living
my hate, oh god help his fate
i'll watch you, watch you suffocate
now, for some reason, it was charles and camilla who weren't speaking. they'd fought about something - i'd seen them arguing in the yard - and all the way home, in the back seat, they sat side by side and stared straight ahead, their arms folded across their chests in what i am sure they did not realise was a comically identical fashion.
IV. fish for nails // laika
let me out, i'm a cloud
i can't live here anymore
turn the sky inside out
i can't live here anymore
fish for nails in a drought
i can't live here anymore
always ash in my mouth
i can't live here anymore
[francis] switched on the weak reading lamp on my desk and pulled the chair over to my bed. "i'm sorry but i've got to talk to you," he said. "something very odd has happened."
i had forgotten my earlier fright; it came back in a sick, bilious wash. "what is it?"
"camilla has moved. she's moved out of the apartment. all her things are gone. charles is there right now, drunk nearly out of his mind. he says she's living at the albemarle inn."
V. loch // i am kloot
(instrumental)
"how about a kiss for your jailbird brother?" he said.
she turned halfway, as if to touch her lips to his cheek, but he slid a palm down her back and tipped her face up to his and kissed her full on the mouth - not a brotherly kiss, there was no mistaking it for that, but a long, slow, greedy kiss, messy and voluptuous. his bathrobe fell slightly open as his left hand sank from her chin to neck, collarbone, base of throat, his fingertips just inside the edge of her thin polka-dot shirt and trembling over the warm skin there.
VI. looks just like the sun // broken social scene
heart is pounding in his chest
reaches suddenly for his gun
ship is sailing in the west
a flower that would be his fun
tree of antlers on his head
weary red split-open eyes
i'm on the corner thinkin' 'bout my bed
he just stands there and signifies
it was charles. he stood in the doorway, blinking drunkenly around the room, and i was so surprised and glad to see him that it was a moment before i realised he had a gun.
(…) charles lurched abruptly to the side, to clear his shot. camilla stepped into his path. "charles, give me the gun," she said.
he pushed the hair from his eyes with his forearm, holding the gun remarkably steady with his other hand. "i'm telling you, milly." it was a pet name he had for her, one he seldom used. "you better get out of the way."
VII. those to come // the shins
eyeless in the morning sun you were
pale and mild, a modern girl
taken with thought still prone to care
making tea in your underwear
you went out in the yard to find
something to eat and clear your mind
and something bad inside me went away
camilla stuck her head into the kitchen. "hi, you," she said. her hair was untidy and her face pale and watchful; she looked like a little boy.
(…) the teacup was too hot; it burned my fingertips. i set it down and looked at her - oblivious, smoking a cigarette, scarcely two feet away. i could lose myself forever in that singular little face, in the pessimism of her beautiful mouth.
VIII. empty house // air
(instrumental)
there was a long pause. finally, she said: "charles and i don't really talk anymore."
"not at all?"
"not really, no." she took another drink of her whiskey. "it's broken my nana's heart," she said.
.rar or .zip on Mediafire
[the secret history]
a charles/camilla fanmix
spoilers, spoilers, spoilers - i can't stress this enough. don't look if you're halfway through the book, or planning on reading it sometime soon.
I. just enough // toledo
well he drinks too much
she fucks too much
they lie to each other much too much
but they love each other just enough
just enough to keep coming back
sometimes he slaps her around with words
til her heartbeat hits the floor
he breaks her down, down, down
til she just can't take no more
"they're very jealous of each other," he said. "he much more so than she. i always thought it was a childish, charming thing, you know, all verbal rough-and-tumble, even julian used to tease them about it."
(...) "i think camilla and henry have been slipping around with each other for quite some time. i think charles has been suspicious for a while but until lately he didn't have any proof."
II. violent // stars
both wide awake
trying not to breathe for the other's sake
i'm not sure how much more of this
we're supposed to take
before we kill each other
i feel violent for you, lover
i feel violent for you, lover
never ever touch another
i feel violent for you, lover
"i want you to see something. look."
she held up a piece of the light hair near her temples. underneath was a scabbed spot about the size of a quarter where someone had, apparently, pulled a handful of hair out by the roots. i was too startled to say a thing.
"and this." she pushed up the sleeve of her sweater. the wrist was swollen and a bit discoloured, but what horrified me was a tiny, evil burn on the underside of the forearm: a cigarette burn, gouged deep and ugly in the ivory flesh.
it was a moment before i found my voice. "good god, camilla! charles did this?"
III. useless // imogen heap
i feel so useless, do you?
(...) i am your whore, without a name
i climb to fall, to begin again, to begin again
i climb to fall, suffer hatred, deceit and pain
anger, regret, loving in vain
(...) if i ever break away from you that day forth, you'll be living
my hate, oh god help his fate
i'll watch you, watch you suffocate
now, for some reason, it was charles and camilla who weren't speaking. they'd fought about something - i'd seen them arguing in the yard - and all the way home, in the back seat, they sat side by side and stared straight ahead, their arms folded across their chests in what i am sure they did not realise was a comically identical fashion.
IV. fish for nails // laika
let me out, i'm a cloud
i can't live here anymore
turn the sky inside out
i can't live here anymore
fish for nails in a drought
i can't live here anymore
always ash in my mouth
i can't live here anymore
[francis] switched on the weak reading lamp on my desk and pulled the chair over to my bed. "i'm sorry but i've got to talk to you," he said. "something very odd has happened."
i had forgotten my earlier fright; it came back in a sick, bilious wash. "what is it?"
"camilla has moved. she's moved out of the apartment. all her things are gone. charles is there right now, drunk nearly out of his mind. he says she's living at the albemarle inn."
V. loch // i am kloot
(instrumental)
"how about a kiss for your jailbird brother?" he said.
she turned halfway, as if to touch her lips to his cheek, but he slid a palm down her back and tipped her face up to his and kissed her full on the mouth - not a brotherly kiss, there was no mistaking it for that, but a long, slow, greedy kiss, messy and voluptuous. his bathrobe fell slightly open as his left hand sank from her chin to neck, collarbone, base of throat, his fingertips just inside the edge of her thin polka-dot shirt and trembling over the warm skin there.
VI. looks just like the sun // broken social scene
heart is pounding in his chest
reaches suddenly for his gun
ship is sailing in the west
a flower that would be his fun
tree of antlers on his head
weary red split-open eyes
i'm on the corner thinkin' 'bout my bed
he just stands there and signifies
it was charles. he stood in the doorway, blinking drunkenly around the room, and i was so surprised and glad to see him that it was a moment before i realised he had a gun.
(…) charles lurched abruptly to the side, to clear his shot. camilla stepped into his path. "charles, give me the gun," she said.
he pushed the hair from his eyes with his forearm, holding the gun remarkably steady with his other hand. "i'm telling you, milly." it was a pet name he had for her, one he seldom used. "you better get out of the way."
VII. those to come // the shins
eyeless in the morning sun you were
pale and mild, a modern girl
taken with thought still prone to care
making tea in your underwear
you went out in the yard to find
something to eat and clear your mind
and something bad inside me went away
camilla stuck her head into the kitchen. "hi, you," she said. her hair was untidy and her face pale and watchful; she looked like a little boy.
(…) the teacup was too hot; it burned my fingertips. i set it down and looked at her - oblivious, smoking a cigarette, scarcely two feet away. i could lose myself forever in that singular little face, in the pessimism of her beautiful mouth.
VIII. empty house // air
(instrumental)
there was a long pause. finally, she said: "charles and i don't really talk anymore."
"not at all?"
"not really, no." she took another drink of her whiskey. "it's broken my nana's heart," she said.
.rar or .zip on Mediafire