In which I try to write more
4:27 . Go.
ii. to save us all from satan's power
It had turned out to be The Christmas Party. The insufferable Christmas Party. Christian knew he could slip away from the festivities on the day itself, but the earlier, larger, more horrible gathering was inescapable. He would have to go.
After Christian had (politely)told a dozen people he had no intention of what he was going to do with his life, he calculated he'd served his function, and went looking for better company. "Better company" usually consisted of Thomas, who had been invited and was probably about somewhere. Carefully liberating one of the better bottles of wine, and sliding it under his jacket, he started a circuit of the room.
On his third time around, Thomas had still not appeared, and the bottle was becoming something of a nuisance. Slipping from the room, Christian began to search for a secluded spot where he might enjoy a bit of solitude.
Reaching his destination, Christian uncorked the bottle, and took a long drink. It wasn't bad, although he supposed his mother was behind it. She was positively a genius with whites, but reds tended to give her trouble, for some odd reason. Finally, settling in, he looked out the window again.
The bitter cold of the past week had given way to a kind of thickened rain, not quite sleet. It was particularly wretched weather, especially for this time of year. Christian, of course, thought it criminally out of place. The rain splashed against the window, hitting hard, then slowly streaming down to the sill. The rhythm of it was rather hypnotic, and Christian allowed himself to fall under its power.
It was not until the figure behind him hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder, that he realized he was not alone.
The figure turned out to be Avery. Christian dully welcomed him to the window seat, shoving the bottle of wine in his direction. It was less than half full.
"Drink. Be merry." Christian said, his eyes fixed on the storm outside.
Avery accepted the bottle wordlessly. Slowly, he took a sip. Then another.
Christian's attention was still on the storm. Suddenly he looked up, right into Avery's startling green eyes, now glazed over. Christian's eyes were glazed too. He could feel it. He had every appearance of being drunk. He wasn't, of course, his mind was still working perfectly and everything made sense and all was clear as day. Or was it? He couldn't quite tell. Avery was drunk, that was for certain. From the way his lips parted as he leaned his head to the side, searching Christian's face with his glassy eyes. From the way a faint red had begun to creep into his cheeks, as he moved exactly 3 inches towards Christian. 3 inches. Exactly. Christian was definitely not drunk. But if he wasn't drunk, how had he missed Avery's hand, lingering on his shoulder?
He wanted to remove Avery's hand. He wanted to shrug his shoulders, shake off Avery, forget the entire thing. He wanted to do something, didn't he? But he couldn't. It must be the wine, he told himself. I've had a bit too much, it's affecting my movement. The signals are slow. I'll move in a minute. It'll all be over in a minute.
They sat there, staring at one another, not moving. Finally, Avery, carefully, timidly, delicately placed his other hand just below Christian's jawline, wrapping his fingers lightly around the side of Christian's neck.
The small voice in Christian's head was louder than ever, pounding against the side of his skull, and threatening to burst out. Christian raised a trembling hand, and laid it on Avery's chest. One second was all it took.
Everything else in Christian's brain, all sense, all sense of decency, of shame, came pouring out, as he pushed Avery from him and jumped back sending the bottle crashing to the floor. Turning his eyes from the wreckage, he forced himself to walk slowly to the door.
"Goodnight, Avery" Christian called over his shoulder, before sprinting headlong into the storm.
Avery looked at the shattered glass on the floor and began to pick up the fragments.
5:27. There's one more part. I'll write it later. I'm going to bed. Goodnight all.
ii. to save us all from satan's power
It had turned out to be The Christmas Party. The insufferable Christmas Party. Christian knew he could slip away from the festivities on the day itself, but the earlier, larger, more horrible gathering was inescapable. He would have to go.
After Christian had (politely)told a dozen people he had no intention of what he was going to do with his life, he calculated he'd served his function, and went looking for better company. "Better company" usually consisted of Thomas, who had been invited and was probably about somewhere. Carefully liberating one of the better bottles of wine, and sliding it under his jacket, he started a circuit of the room.
On his third time around, Thomas had still not appeared, and the bottle was becoming something of a nuisance. Slipping from the room, Christian began to search for a secluded spot where he might enjoy a bit of solitude.
Reaching his destination, Christian uncorked the bottle, and took a long drink. It wasn't bad, although he supposed his mother was behind it. She was positively a genius with whites, but reds tended to give her trouble, for some odd reason. Finally, settling in, he looked out the window again.
The bitter cold of the past week had given way to a kind of thickened rain, not quite sleet. It was particularly wretched weather, especially for this time of year. Christian, of course, thought it criminally out of place. The rain splashed against the window, hitting hard, then slowly streaming down to the sill. The rhythm of it was rather hypnotic, and Christian allowed himself to fall under its power.
It was not until the figure behind him hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder, that he realized he was not alone.
The figure turned out to be Avery. Christian dully welcomed him to the window seat, shoving the bottle of wine in his direction. It was less than half full.
"Drink. Be merry." Christian said, his eyes fixed on the storm outside.
Avery accepted the bottle wordlessly. Slowly, he took a sip. Then another.
Christian's attention was still on the storm. Suddenly he looked up, right into Avery's startling green eyes, now glazed over. Christian's eyes were glazed too. He could feel it. He had every appearance of being drunk. He wasn't, of course, his mind was still working perfectly and everything made sense and all was clear as day. Or was it? He couldn't quite tell. Avery was drunk, that was for certain. From the way his lips parted as he leaned his head to the side, searching Christian's face with his glassy eyes. From the way a faint red had begun to creep into his cheeks, as he moved exactly 3 inches towards Christian. 3 inches. Exactly. Christian was definitely not drunk. But if he wasn't drunk, how had he missed Avery's hand, lingering on his shoulder?
He wanted to remove Avery's hand. He wanted to shrug his shoulders, shake off Avery, forget the entire thing. He wanted to do something, didn't he? But he couldn't. It must be the wine, he told himself. I've had a bit too much, it's affecting my movement. The signals are slow. I'll move in a minute. It'll all be over in a minute.
They sat there, staring at one another, not moving. Finally, Avery, carefully, timidly, delicately placed his other hand just below Christian's jawline, wrapping his fingers lightly around the side of Christian's neck.
The small voice in Christian's head was louder than ever, pounding against the side of his skull, and threatening to burst out. Christian raised a trembling hand, and laid it on Avery's chest. One second was all it took.
Everything else in Christian's brain, all sense, all sense of decency, of shame, came pouring out, as he pushed Avery from him and jumped back sending the bottle crashing to the floor. Turning his eyes from the wreckage, he forced himself to walk slowly to the door.
"Goodnight, Avery" Christian called over his shoulder, before sprinting headlong into the storm.
Avery looked at the shattered glass on the floor and began to pick up the fragments.
5:27. There's one more part. I'll write it later. I'm going to bed. Goodnight all.