(no subject)
Title: Autumn leaves under frozen souls
Author: oldwickedsongs
Characters: Meyer Lansky POV, Arnold Rothstein, Carolyn Rothstein, mentions of Lucky
Rating: PG
Word Count: 921
Summary: Meyer watches AR and Carolyn fade away
Warnings: Angst
There were times Meyer had wondered what would be worst; losing something- someone- all at once or in bits and pieces. He wondered if it was anything like seasons changing; little signs appearing gradually and dismissed out of hand (now a turning leaf, or unreturned call, and now a winter chill, or unfamiliar woman’s scent on his perfectly ironed collared) until gradually you were forced to face with the truth; a time had passed. Things had changed.
She stopped wearing her ring one day; and they noticed but didn’t say anything. It was Charlie, of the three, who flinched at the sight. That was Lucky’s secret; of AR, Meyer and Lucky- it was always Charlie who noticed the little imperfections, the dangers on the horizon. AR and Meyer, they could see the big problems, the angles at play but it was Charlie who protected the heart. It was he that had noticed the needle marks one night on his boss’s arms. But they didn’t say anything- at least not to AR; because what do you say?
Instead, they just glanced at each other behind AR’s back and wondered.
One night, before things were broken beyond repair, when Rothstein was up in Boston with Bobbie Winthrop, his showgirl and dealer was by his side Carolyn asked Meyer to stay the night. In a bitter laugh she said she hated empty houses as much as AR did if not more. He had called Anna and promised he would back before morning. He knew he was lying the moment he said it but he let the words linger anyways. They felt right. Lies sometimes do.
And after a dozen cigarettes and two bottles of cheap red wine have passed between them; Carolyn fixed him in a gaze and smiled.
“You know you remind me a lot of him,” She looked somewhere between tears and slumber and when she spoke, he wasn’t sure she was even talking to him. “Back before all this.”
He smiled, unsure of what to say.
“I think that why he likes you. You still have so much of what was good about him.”
What followed next wasn’t love; not even lust. It was a mistake both of them knew they were making; something created by the wine and loneliness of the quiet house. They groped and clutched, intertwined and kissed in the dark like fumbling school kids. She shied away from the way he studied in her the city lights, aware of her age and probably thinking about how perfect Bobbie must be at the moment. She was beautiful, Meyer said and meant it and to himself he imagined what she must have looked like on stage with fake jewelry and feathers taunting and teasing her figure.
He spent the night pretending to be her husband, and in the morning; she rose, cooked him breakfast and fixed his tie. They never spoke of it after, never even considered revisiting the moment. He wasn’t what she wanted; that Meyer knew and even if he was- they both loved AR too much to continue.
A little later, the daisy on her finger disappeared and he’d wondered if he had helped her gain the courage to remove it. That would tear him up- hating himself for making the changes a little more noticeable and being proud of Carolyn for finding that shred of courage.
It was around that time Charlie began to see the needle marks.
And little by little, AR began to fade and flicker like leaves. It was his smile first- not the facsimile he presented to enemy and business partner, the real one that let his eyes glitter like polished brass. His school boy looks became fixed, waxen. His mind raged against the now constant headache, and the way he shied from daylight. He kept scratching the inside of his arm like the hopheads they saw passed out at the Oriental houses. Words failed him midsentence, and as if he caught himself and hated himself for it, AR would laugh humorlessly and wave it away.
They both could see the fear nestled behind his eyes. The what’s happening to me? tickling the corners of his brain. He had to know, but if he could stop at this point was another subject altogether. Meyer and Lucky began to feel a bit like Noah’s sons every time they caught AR like that, they looked away and covered for him. As if it was something obscene and in so many ways it was.
And sometimes- the worst times- were when Carolyn was pulled away from her ivory palace, when she picked up AR from the casino, or hotel room without them knowing, and took her husband home. Because only then, the next morning and for the few days afterwards, would AR look anything like he had before. In truth, it was the only time Carolyn’s own façade of icy Queen cracked a little too and the warmth they knew from her came into play. They were better together, Charlie and Meyer knew it, Meyer even suspected they knew it too.
They were whole together and apart both of them seemed to suffer. Diminish somehow, and disappear: into the heroin or the solace, into the money and winter. And it was a childish thing, Meyer knew, a petulant whine that persisted in the back of his brain. You belong together, why not stay that way? Neither of them seemed to listen. Instead, the leaves just kept changing.
And one day, they’d be gone.
Author: oldwickedsongs
Characters: Meyer Lansky POV, Arnold Rothstein, Carolyn Rothstein, mentions of Lucky
Rating: PG
Word Count: 921
Summary: Meyer watches AR and Carolyn fade away
Warnings: Angst
There were times Meyer had wondered what would be worst; losing something- someone- all at once or in bits and pieces. He wondered if it was anything like seasons changing; little signs appearing gradually and dismissed out of hand (now a turning leaf, or unreturned call, and now a winter chill, or unfamiliar woman’s scent on his perfectly ironed collared) until gradually you were forced to face with the truth; a time had passed. Things had changed.
She stopped wearing her ring one day; and they noticed but didn’t say anything. It was Charlie, of the three, who flinched at the sight. That was Lucky’s secret; of AR, Meyer and Lucky- it was always Charlie who noticed the little imperfections, the dangers on the horizon. AR and Meyer, they could see the big problems, the angles at play but it was Charlie who protected the heart. It was he that had noticed the needle marks one night on his boss’s arms. But they didn’t say anything- at least not to AR; because what do you say?
Instead, they just glanced at each other behind AR’s back and wondered.
One night, before things were broken beyond repair, when Rothstein was up in Boston with Bobbie Winthrop, his showgirl and dealer was by his side Carolyn asked Meyer to stay the night. In a bitter laugh she said she hated empty houses as much as AR did if not more. He had called Anna and promised he would back before morning. He knew he was lying the moment he said it but he let the words linger anyways. They felt right. Lies sometimes do.
And after a dozen cigarettes and two bottles of cheap red wine have passed between them; Carolyn fixed him in a gaze and smiled.
“You know you remind me a lot of him,” She looked somewhere between tears and slumber and when she spoke, he wasn’t sure she was even talking to him. “Back before all this.”
He smiled, unsure of what to say.
“I think that why he likes you. You still have so much of what was good about him.”
What followed next wasn’t love; not even lust. It was a mistake both of them knew they were making; something created by the wine and loneliness of the quiet house. They groped and clutched, intertwined and kissed in the dark like fumbling school kids. She shied away from the way he studied in her the city lights, aware of her age and probably thinking about how perfect Bobbie must be at the moment. She was beautiful, Meyer said and meant it and to himself he imagined what she must have looked like on stage with fake jewelry and feathers taunting and teasing her figure.
He spent the night pretending to be her husband, and in the morning; she rose, cooked him breakfast and fixed his tie. They never spoke of it after, never even considered revisiting the moment. He wasn’t what she wanted; that Meyer knew and even if he was- they both loved AR too much to continue.
A little later, the daisy on her finger disappeared and he’d wondered if he had helped her gain the courage to remove it. That would tear him up- hating himself for making the changes a little more noticeable and being proud of Carolyn for finding that shred of courage.
It was around that time Charlie began to see the needle marks.
And little by little, AR began to fade and flicker like leaves. It was his smile first- not the facsimile he presented to enemy and business partner, the real one that let his eyes glitter like polished brass. His school boy looks became fixed, waxen. His mind raged against the now constant headache, and the way he shied from daylight. He kept scratching the inside of his arm like the hopheads they saw passed out at the Oriental houses. Words failed him midsentence, and as if he caught himself and hated himself for it, AR would laugh humorlessly and wave it away.
They both could see the fear nestled behind his eyes. The what’s happening to me? tickling the corners of his brain. He had to know, but if he could stop at this point was another subject altogether. Meyer and Lucky began to feel a bit like Noah’s sons every time they caught AR like that, they looked away and covered for him. As if it was something obscene and in so many ways it was.
And sometimes- the worst times- were when Carolyn was pulled away from her ivory palace, when she picked up AR from the casino, or hotel room without them knowing, and took her husband home. Because only then, the next morning and for the few days afterwards, would AR look anything like he had before. In truth, it was the only time Carolyn’s own façade of icy Queen cracked a little too and the warmth they knew from her came into play. They were better together, Charlie and Meyer knew it, Meyer even suspected they knew it too.
They were whole together and apart both of them seemed to suffer. Diminish somehow, and disappear: into the heroin or the solace, into the money and winter. And it was a childish thing, Meyer knew, a petulant whine that persisted in the back of his brain. You belong together, why not stay that way? Neither of them seemed to listen. Instead, the leaves just kept changing.
And one day, they’d be gone.