a short history of nearly nothing
Amanda stood and felt smaller than she ever thought she could in the doorway of their bedroom - or, his bedroom, or something; the lines were blurred - draped in one of her ridiculous thrift-found woollen shawls. She still had on last night's stockings. They were made mostly of holes but they were falling apart less than all her other pairs. Three-day-old mascara was smudged all over her face from crying.
She was being stupid; she didn't care. She tried not to tear up her feet as she walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. The fucking floorboards were sort of a deathtrap but they never got around to doing anything with them.
"Gerard," she mumbled, sniffing, "there's a dead thing on the front lawn."
Gerard yawned and lifted up a blanket, pulling her in gently by her left wrist and then closer to him with his palm to the small of her back. Amanda let herself relax back into the drowsy edges of sleep, tucking her head between his shoulder and chin. He traced little circles on her back for a moment whilst she listened to the predictable beat of his heart.
"We should bury it," he said.
"Yeah."
~
Gerard stood out front, waiting for Amanda to choose between stilettos and his Doc Marten's. The morning was freezing but the kind of cold where you knew it was going to be warm later on, and sunny. There were no clouds and sky was watercolour pale. Gerard'd stolen the shawl and had it wrapped around him over his suit jacket. Tiny bursts of wind mussed his hair up and blew it into his mouth.
Amanda came down the path with the Docs on, untied; stilettos in one hand and the dying bunch of flowers from the kitchen table in the other. She was wearing a different pair of stockings - stripes this time - but yesterday's dress: long and floaty and white but too big so she wore it off both shoulders. Gerard knew the back was pulled together with pins and odds and ends of messy sewing. Her hair was still wet and she wasn't wearing any makeup but that was just perfect by Gerard because he liked the change and seeing her that way after a few days of heavy eyeshadow/greasepaint/"glitter-or-no-glitter?" experiments.
She kissed him and stole the sunglasses from the front of his shirt and got in the car. Gerard smiled and walked around to the driver's side. His turn again, then.
~
Amanda drank from the half-empty bottle of Jack in the glovebox and changed the radio station every two minutes while Gerard drove. She took in the scenery and took in the scenery and thought about forests and spidermen and hummed Belle and Sebastian by Belle and Sebastian even though it wasn't playing on any of the stations. They pulled up next to the woods. Gerard cut the engine.
"Are-" he wet his lips, "Amanda."
She looked at him and smiled. If he never saw her again Gerard was pretty sure he could map out the crinkles around her eyes and the way they caught the sun up here.
"I'm fine, Gerard, really."
~
Gerard stole back his boots because Amanda changed her mind and put on her stilettos as they were leaving the car. He dug a shallow grave and they pulled the black garbage bag out of the trunk and into the hole. As they lifted it they could feel the deer's skinny bones and its muscles and its hooves. Gerard covered it with earth while Amanda sat on the bonnet of the car and looked up at the sky. After Gerard was done he helped her lay flowers over it. They were purple and red and yellow, and the edges of the petals were beginning to curl up but that didn't matter.
He wrapped her arms around her when she came to him. She tried to feel everything. The way the fabric of his button-down smelled and felt on her skin and the warmness of his arms. The nearness of him, she didn't know. His hair tickled her face. She laughed but it turned into a sob and he held her tighter.
"It's not fair," she choked.
"Love you," he said, because he didn't know what else there was. Then, because he could: "let's go back to bed."
She was being stupid; she didn't care. She tried not to tear up her feet as she walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. The fucking floorboards were sort of a deathtrap but they never got around to doing anything with them.
"Gerard," she mumbled, sniffing, "there's a dead thing on the front lawn."
Gerard yawned and lifted up a blanket, pulling her in gently by her left wrist and then closer to him with his palm to the small of her back. Amanda let herself relax back into the drowsy edges of sleep, tucking her head between his shoulder and chin. He traced little circles on her back for a moment whilst she listened to the predictable beat of his heart.
"We should bury it," he said.
"Yeah."
~
Gerard stood out front, waiting for Amanda to choose between stilettos and his Doc Marten's. The morning was freezing but the kind of cold where you knew it was going to be warm later on, and sunny. There were no clouds and sky was watercolour pale. Gerard'd stolen the shawl and had it wrapped around him over his suit jacket. Tiny bursts of wind mussed his hair up and blew it into his mouth.
Amanda came down the path with the Docs on, untied; stilettos in one hand and the dying bunch of flowers from the kitchen table in the other. She was wearing a different pair of stockings - stripes this time - but yesterday's dress: long and floaty and white but too big so she wore it off both shoulders. Gerard knew the back was pulled together with pins and odds and ends of messy sewing. Her hair was still wet and she wasn't wearing any makeup but that was just perfect by Gerard because he liked the change and seeing her that way after a few days of heavy eyeshadow/greasepaint/"glitter-or-no-glitter?" experiments.
She kissed him and stole the sunglasses from the front of his shirt and got in the car. Gerard smiled and walked around to the driver's side. His turn again, then.
~
Amanda drank from the half-empty bottle of Jack in the glovebox and changed the radio station every two minutes while Gerard drove. She took in the scenery and took in the scenery and thought about forests and spidermen and hummed Belle and Sebastian by Belle and Sebastian even though it wasn't playing on any of the stations. They pulled up next to the woods. Gerard cut the engine.
"Are-" he wet his lips, "Amanda."
She looked at him and smiled. If he never saw her again Gerard was pretty sure he could map out the crinkles around her eyes and the way they caught the sun up here.
"I'm fine, Gerard, really."
~
Gerard stole back his boots because Amanda changed her mind and put on her stilettos as they were leaving the car. He dug a shallow grave and they pulled the black garbage bag out of the trunk and into the hole. As they lifted it they could feel the deer's skinny bones and its muscles and its hooves. Gerard covered it with earth while Amanda sat on the bonnet of the car and looked up at the sky. After Gerard was done he helped her lay flowers over it. They were purple and red and yellow, and the edges of the petals were beginning to curl up but that didn't matter.
He wrapped her arms around her when she came to him. She tried to feel everything. The way the fabric of his button-down smelled and felt on her skin and the warmness of his arms. The nearness of him, she didn't know. His hair tickled her face. She laughed but it turned into a sob and he held her tighter.
"It's not fair," she choked.
"Love you," he said, because he didn't know what else there was. Then, because he could: "let's go back to bed."