#evelyn brackner | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thelovebirdandmusic · 7 years

Text

EL SUJETO QUE ROMPIÓ LOS MUROS

CAPITULO V

Primera parte

Canciones del Episodio

1_Whitout you de Ashes Remain (Daniel)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixh0igzRhMo

2_Under the Water de The pretty reckles (Mel)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CurVAMUh_V4

‘’Recapitulemos.... Andy decidió viajar a ver a su madre para año nuevo, fecha particularmente importante porque su querida madre estaba de cumpleaños exactamente a las 00:01 minuto del primero de enero.

Lo que sirvió para que nuestros queridos personajes se despejaran y descansaran un poco de nuestro adorable pelinegro. Michael conoció a Blaine con quien concluyó una relación que terminó siendo netamente sexual.

Algo parecido le ocurrió a Melody, que se acostó con Jimmy (Jamie) Un muchacho de buenos sentimientos que al parecer quedó flechado por la rubia.

Entre los mismos problemas emocionales, con un Daniel afligido por intentar superar y alejarse de la vida de Andy, Annie con el hermano del Daniel. Y un profesor poco a poco más enamorado de un estudiante...

Eso es lo que te has perdido en Essence of me’’

---Inicio del Episodio---

Las campanas sonaron en todo el campus anunciando que la hora del almuerzo había llegado. Nuestro chico guardaba sus cuadernos y lápices dentro de su mochila, cruzó su bolso por su pecho y salió al corredor de aquella facultad de ciencias biológicas, claro no sin antes de despedirse del profesor.

Era extraña la situación en la que ahora mismo se encontraba, si bien había decidido retomar sus estudios tenía mucho que memorizar, muchas materias que pasar en limpio y además estaban las clases con Ebba. El complementario de Artes que asistían juntos para no oxidarse, no era tan buen dibujante como la chica pero le agradaba distraerse de la realidad por un tiempo.

El chico golpeó la oficina del profesor con el que se había encontrado en la pista de hielo dos veces antes de escuchar el adelante.

Andy: Señor Brackner, le traigo el informe sobre las migraciones de las aves.

Josh: Déjalo en el mesón donde tengo los otros.

Andy: Claro. –caminó con el rechinido del suelo bajo sus pies y lo dejó donde le habían indicado.

Josh: Oí que fuiste a Oregón. –El profesor hablaba con el menor aunque ocasionalmente le miraba pues parecía ocupado en su computador portátil.

Andy: Tenía que pasar el año nuevo con mi mamá, se le ocurrió nacer el primero de enero a las 12:01 –sonrió de esa forma tan especial. -¿Pero… como lo supo usted?

Josh: Lo escuché casualmente cuando lo comentabas a tus compañeros. –Andy bajó la mirada y sus mejillas enardecieron.

Andy: Bien, gracias profesor.

Josh: Andy. –comentó antes de que este cerrase la puerta al salir.

Andy: ¿Profesor?

Josh: Te ves particularmente bonito hoy.

Andy: Este…

Josh: Retomar tu vida sin duda te ha hecho muy bien, tu mirada es más feliz que de costumbre.

Andy: Nos vemos luego señor Brackner.

Josh: Nos vemos.

Joseph no era estúpido conforme a lo que sentía por aquel estudiante de labios rosados. Pero había tres grandes problemas para hacer lo que haría si fuese primero un hombre más joven, el cual era el menor de los problemas, o su profesor debiendo renunciar a su puesto por entrometerse sentimentalmente con un alumno si es que llegase a ocurrir.

Pero para él lo más importante era el corazón que estaba recomponiéndose en Andy. Un chico con un dolor así en el alma era probable que sufriese altibajos durante mucho tiempo antes de realmente estar bien (lo cual es casi imposible) porque perder lo que él perdió siempre duele.

Pero eso no implicaba que no pudiese prestarle más atención, o pasar momentos agradables con quien desearía fuese unos años menor, o que no hubiese retomado la carrera para mantener un relación del todo.

Por esa razón ahora Josh si bien le dejaba continuar con la vida al chico, sin estar ahí constantemente, solo sutiles gestos que de alguna manera mostraban el interés por aquel chico.

Y ahí estaba el profesor bebiendo su café junto a una colega platicando del muchacho de tez pálida.

Evelyn: Te escucho y mientras más hablas pareces más enamorado de tu alumno.

Josh: No estoy enamorado, me conoces. No me enamoro en vano. –la chica sonrió.

Evelyn: Pero te agrada.

Josh: Hay algo muy particular en él que me parece increíblemente atractivo, es lindo sin ser pedante, es dulce pero no se da cuenta, y aunque intenta permanecer lejos de todos te cuida a su propia manera. Es el hecho de que tenga tantas virtudes y ni siquiera las perciba, que su autoestima no esté del todo bien lo que lo hace aún más lindo.

Evelyn: Pero no estás enamorado. –comentó tomando su café para llevarlo a la boca.

Josh: No lo estoy, al menos no todavía. Pero como vamos no pase mucho tiempo para que lo esté.

Evelyn: Él sabe que te gusta.

Josh: Probablemente, pero no lo quiere ver. Está más interesado en rearmar su vida, y no le culpo. Todo lo que pasó y a su corta edad. Es casi una locura.

Evelyn: Pues yo digo que lo intentes, si es como tú dices que es. Probablemente ya alguien esté pensando en quitártelo. -El profesor la miró con una expresión apacible por hablar de aquel muchacho.

---Cambio de Escena---

Andy bajó desde su habitación mientras cerraba su polerón rosado entre los peldaños.

Andy: Mamá has visto mis audífonos. –comentó el chico caminando rumbo a la cocina donde una mujer se encontraba de espaldas, ella giró y le sonrió al chico.

Julieth: Están sobre el sofá de la ventana, siempre los dejas ahí. –El chico trotó hasta ahí y los tomó pasándolos por dentro del polerón. -¿Se puede saber a dónde vas?

Andy: Debo ir a comprar alimento para Limón, lo olvidé en la mañana. –El hurón desde el sofá levantó la cabeza.

Julieth: Está bien. Llega antes de que prepare la cena.

Andy: Claro. –comentó el chico robándole un poco de zanahoria rallada y la llevó a su boca, luego besó a su madre en la mejilla y salió de casa o esa era la intención, más en su puerta estaba parado Michael con esa pose de galán que siempre usaba.

Michael: ¿Vaya que coincidencia? ¿Se puede saber a dónde ibas?

Andy: No es de tu incumbencia. –comentó cerrando la puerta. –Todavía estoy molesto por tus estúpidas llamadas.

Michael: Por favor, supéralo eso fue hace semanas.

Andy: Como sea, estoy demasiado ocupado para tus boberías de adolescente. Ahora debo ir por la comida de Limón.

Michael: No alimentaste a nuestro nene.

Andy: Me agotas Mike, enserio. –comentó el chico intentando sacárselo de encima.

Michael: A eso vine precisamente, sé que no me quieres así que ese tiempo que no estuviste estaba pensando en que tal vez debería conocer a más personas. –le soltó el chico caminando en reversa al frente de Andy.

Andy: ¿Tienes novia?

Michael: No de una manera…

Andy: Convencional lo sé. –usaba mucho esa palabra el moreno.

Michael: Pero tengo… novio. –Le sonrió a nuestro chico que al inicio parecía serio y luego sonrió.

Andy: Me alegra que entendieses que solo eres mi amigo Mike. –admitió. –Pero ahora debo ir por comida de hurón, nos vemos luego. –agitó su mano comenzando a trotar, mientras Mike estaba aún más desencajado.

Michael: Acaba de… felicitarme. ¡Joder! –se quejó cuando el otro se fue.

---Cambio de Escena---

Daniel y su novia habían salido a comer al centro comercial, por lo general era frecuente que los jóvenes fuese ahí con la intención de pasar tiempo juntos, mimarse un poco. Pero la conversación que había tenido Daniel y Bruce sobre ser sinceros con quien era su actual pareja sin duda le había llenado la cabeza de preguntas.

Y ahora estaba ahí pensándose como le dices a tu novia que eres heterosexual pero saliste con un chico y no solo eso, si no es el chico que más has querido hasta ahora y si, eso la incluye a ella.

Explicar que era bisexual era mucho más fácil como lo dijo Bruce, pero él jamás había considerado siquiera la idea de serlo. Andy era el sujeto del que se enamoró pero su amor no tenía que ver con el género del chico si no con él en general, él como un todo. Su identidad sexual pasaba a segundo plano al menos con él.

Amanda movía la boca ocasionalmente para platicar con el chico que no entendía muy bien ya que seguía cuestionándose sus malditas ideas dentro de esa cabeza suya.

Amanda: ¿Estás bien? –preguntó la chica quitándose la pajilla de su malteada de su boca.

Daniel: Claro.

Amanda: ¿Entonces?

Daniel: ¿Entonces qué?

Amanda: Te pregunté si te gustó la película.

Daniel: Claro. –Antes de la comida habían aprovechado de ir al cine, ya era febrero y a una semana casi del día de los enamorados.

Amanda: ¿Daniel qué te pasa? Has estado actuando raro ya desde hace tiempo, por lo general no digo nada pero hoy hasta te vez algo estúpido

Daniel: Lo siento, esto de san Valentín tiene mi cabeza enredada.

Amanda: Ya te dije que no quiero nada. –suspiró. –Aunque un oso gigante no me molestaría. –sonrió la chica y su mente viajó casi de inmediato a esos momentos con el pelinegro, pues él siempre había deseado un oso enorme aunque nunca pudo dárselo porque se avergonzaba de estar enamorado de un hombre. – ¡Daniel!

Daniel: Dime.

Amanda: Que ya me quiero ir. –rodó los ojos la chica molesta.

Daniel: Amanda lo siento, estoy algo.

Amanda: Da igual, voy al baño, estoy orinándome hace media hora. –admitió entre risas y dejó solo al chico por unos momentos, Daniel la acompañó después de tomar sus cosas e ir al baño de caballeros.

Fue cuando estaba por entrar que escuchó esa voz tan particular saliendo del baño.

Andy: Ya voy de camino mamá, la tienda de mascotas estaba cerrada así que tuve que venir al centro comercial. –silencio por respuesta en la otra línea. –Ajá… ya lo sé, está bien… yo igual.

Daniel se limitó a observarle, notó que el chico no le había reconocido o si lo hubiese hecho lo disimuló de manera impecable.

Era como si la idea de tener que decirle a Amanda quien fue le perseguía de una forma más directa y más frecuente últimamente. Y vaya que eso era molesto.

Amanda: Ya estoy lista ¿nos vamos? –lo notó mirando hacia la nada. -¿Qué miras?

Daniel: Pensé que había visto a alguien familiar. –negó con la cabeza y tomó la mano de la chica. –Bien, creo que ya es hora de irnos.

Amanda: Bien por mí.

---Cambio de Escena---

A la mañana siguiente Annie estaba temprano en el supermercado comprando las cosas para la casa. Ahora mismo estaba sola pues Sunshine estaba en el trabajo y Debbye estaba en clases, mientras ella no tenía nada hasta dentro de varia horas.

Cajera: Son 2 dólares y 42 centavos –Annie sacó el dinero mientras en otra casa escuchó una voz familiar y aunque miró al chico no lo encontró tan familiar a sí que le restó importancia.

Tomó su bolsa y salió del lugar pasando por el estacionamiento y fue ahí cuando se percató bien de quien era el muchacho de la voz que ahora cerraba la cajuela dejando las bolsas dentro.

Annie: Simón Stanford. –sonrió, el chico la miró intentando reconocerla y luego tras abrir los ojos como un búho la recordó.

Simón: Anneth, vaya que has cambiado. –comentó sonriendo.

Annie: Era una niña en ese entonces. –admitió. –Ya no sigo teniendo trece. –se acomodó el pelo y el chico le sonrió.

Simón: Claro que no los tienes, estás increíblemente guapa. –la chica sintió sus mejillas enardecer por aquel chico que le llevaba 5 años más. Simón era compañero de escuela y aunque también fue si primer amor platónico en ese momento.

Annie: Supongo que ya no soy tan indefensa como en ese entonces. Creo que nunca te dije gracias por haber consolado a esta llorona adolescente. –bromeó y el chico sonrió.

Simón: No pasa nada, ¿solucionaron los problemas tus padres?

Annie: Se separaron. –el chico se sorprendió. –Pero fue para mejor, ahora me siento más tranquila y más feliz aunque cueste creerlo.

Simón: No cuesta tanto, mis padres también lo hicieron, es como una gripe en estos días.

Annie: Ahora creo que es lo mejor, ya sabes si dos personas no se quieren no hay mucho que hacer. Escuché que te habías ido a Washington a estudiar…

Simón: Veterinaria, si me fui a vivir con mi padre, es una ciudad increíble pero claro siempre extrañas casa.

Annie: Washington debe de ser muy pintoresco.

Simón: Lo es. Aunque allá tengo una vida más o menos ordenada vine para las vacaciones a ver a mi madre, a mis hermanos menores. –comentó apoyando su espalda en el vehículo. Bien supongo que ya me debo ir. –le sonrió. -¿Tienes quién te lleve?

Annie: No, tranquilo. Vivo en los departamentos nuevos a un par de cuadras. –asintió el muchacho.

Simón: Ya veo. –sonrió abriendo la puerta del auto, aunque se quedó inmóvil unos segundos. –Sabes, ¿te gustaría salir conmigo? Voy a estar unos días y no tengo a nadie con quien conversar sería agradable…

Annie: Claro. –se acomodó su cabello detrás de su oreja.

Simón: ¿Te paso a buscar mañana?

Annie: Si, claro. Abrieron una nueva feria por lo de san Valentín.

Simón: Suena genial. –ambos asintieron y finalmente el chico entró al auto, ella sonrió inclusive cuando él se fue y luego retomó su camino.

Era extraño que el amor platónico de niña seguía haciéndola sonreír como estúpida.

---Cambio de Escena---

En la habitación de Daniel, Amanda dormía plácidamente abrazada por el chico desde las espaldas. Daniel raspaba con su nariz parte del cuello de la chica, o simplemente acariciaba con la barbilla su pálida piel. La música comenzó a sonar mientras la chica dormí entre los brazos del rubio ‘’Without you de Ashes Remain’’ Finalmente se descubre y se sienta dándole la espalda a la chica que se reacomoda sin despertar aún.

Underneath the cold November sky I’ll wait for You As the pages of my life roll by I’ll wait for You I’m so desperate just to see Your face Meet me in this broken place

El tema comienza con el rubio de los ojos claros cantando con sus codos sobre sus rodillas y sus pies en el tapete debajo. Sentando ahí como si se sintiese culpable de mentirle a la chica que se encontraba a su lado. Si bien Andy era parte del pasado hace ya casi un mes se había propuesto contarle y seguía evitando la situación.

Hold me now I need to feel You Show me how to make it new again There’s no one I can run to And nothing I could ever do I’m nowhere if I’m here without You

Dentro de su cabeza revivió la noche anterior entre caricias besos dulces. Ella era una buena chica un tanto inocente en muchos aspectos tal vez por eso le agradaba. Levantó la mirada hacia la ventana en aquella mañana donde se sentía mal por haber intimado con ella. Una sensación que ya conocía y de alguna forma se trataba del chico de tez blanca y ojos azules.

Even if You take it all away I’ll wait for You Even when the light begins to fade I’ll wait for You I’m so desperate calling out Your name Meet me in this broken place

Estaba ahí simplemente reviviendo sus labios en la piel de la chica, las caricias y sonrisas que compartían cuando estaban juntos. Ella mordiéndole el labio inferior mientras él se desprendia de su playera entre besos y ella de la suya.

Hold me now I need to feel You Show me how to make it new again There’s no one I can run to And nothing I could ever do I’m nowhere if I’m here without You

El cuerpo del rubio cayó sobre la rubia y trazó un camino de besos y roces con su nariz entre los pechos de la chica, ella gimió él sonrió. Peor el Daniel sentando en la cama no lo hizo, si no en vez de aquello una mueca curvó sus labios.

I’m tired of running and wrestling with these angels I lay down my life and I surrender

Su cuerpo meciéndose contra el cuerpo ajeno, ella rodeaba su cuello con sus brazos entre besos, él se incorporaba una y otra vez dentro de la chica. Cuerpos perlados por sudor, gemidos sobre los oídos. Y entonces se besaron después de terminar de descasar un cuerpo sobre el otro.

Hold me now I need to feel You Show me how to make it new again There’s no one I can run to And nothing I could ever do

Toda otra vez, ella y él compartiendo un momento de sexo, aunque para ella era más que eso él no lo sentía así. La risa de ella mezclada entre gemidos. El apretando los dientes entre embestidas que eran más duras, más firmes.

Hold me now I need to feel You Show me how to make it new again There’s no one I can run to And nothing I could ever do I’m nowhere if I’m here without You

Bocas mordiéndose, las manos de Daniel en la cintura de la chica desnuda. Ambos cuerpos privados de prenda alguna envueltos en calor.

Pero entonces entre las últimas líneas, cuando se suponía que encontraría los ojos de Amanda vio los de Andy que le sonrieron de la misma manera que solía hacerlo cuando estaban juntos.

Amanda: ¿Pasa algo? –se sentó la chica cubierta de las frazadas mirando a su novio sentando al costado.

Daniel: Nada, tranquila. –él se inclinó a besarla y calmarle.

---Cambio de Escena---

Mel con un café y unas píldoras para acabar con la resaca de una noche de juerga. Ella formaba parte de una banda no muy exitosa, no porque no fuesen talentosos sino más bien porque después de un par de canciones el público estaba demasiado ebrio para ser tomados enserio.

Si bien los puntos sobre las ‘’i’’ habían quedado claros para el adolecente de 17 años desde esa impetuosa declaración de amor del menor, ella no había dejado de pensar en la esperanza en los ojos de Jimmy. Esperanza que ella conoció pero que con el tiempo el mundo cruel le había enseñado que no es más que una ilusión. Y que en si la vida es una montón de momentos de mierdas con intervalos donde parecemos felices.

Y joder que así era su vida. Pero no fue la ingenuidad lo que cautivó su atención si no lo perseverante que podía ser un adolecente caprichoso de mejillas rojas.

Jimmy había ido a su casa varias veces, vestido con aquella camisa blanca y la corbata alrededor de su cuello y sería una hipócrita si mintiese que aquel chico fue suyo más de un par de veces. Pero no era el sexo, era después de aquello, cuando ella se llenaba de besos tan estúpidos que podrían escribirse con ‘’v’’ chica. Besos ingenuos y adolescentes. Pero tiernos, como el menor era casi siempre.

Pero aunque la rubia le trataba como la mierda después de usarle, él volvía a ella. Volvía por su veneno a recibir su enfado con el mundo como un mártir. Quería quererla ¿pero a que costo?

---Cambio de Escena---

Por otra parte estaba Michael el eterno enamorado del pelinegro que solo tiene ojos para verle como un amigo. Y a su lado estaba Blaine aquel muchacho rubio que había satisfecho una parte de él, que era netamente sexual. Era buenísimo en ello pero cuando terminaba volví a la vida el recuerdo de quien fue su mejor amigo.

Mel y Michael se parecían mucho en esos aspectos y al mismo eran muy diferentes. Melody por su parte se rehusaba a ser amada y usaba a los hombres como algo para olvidarse de lo miserable que era el mundo entre gemidos. Michael se rehusaba a enamorarse de otra persona que no fuese Andy curiosamente era el mismo chico que había cambiado a ambos chicos pero nunca con una mala intención, pero a veces las buenas intenciones también traen consigo malos resultados.

Michael: Ya debes irte Blaine. –movió a chico un poco que se reacomodó en las frazadas del moreno quejándose un poco. –Tengo que salir a ver a…

Blaine: Andy, ya lo sé. –Se podía notar molestia por parte del rubio hacia el alto moreno, arrastró los pies afuera y se colocó los pantalones para luego refregar sus ojos e ir por los zapatos.

Michael: ¿Estás molesto?

Blaine: No tengo nada que exigirte Michael. –comentó tras terminar de vestirse y partir al baño que lavó sus dientes y su rostro.

Hubo un momento que pensó en que si solo se diese la oportunidad de querer a otras personas, a otros chicos o chicas tal vez no se sentiría tan molesto luchando contra un corazón que se rehusaba ser abierto, al menos por él.

Y joder como fastidiaba amar sin ser correspondido.

Blaine: Ya estoy listo. –suspiró. -¿Vas al menos abrirme la puerta? –alzó una ceja y el moreno le acompañó a la salida.

---Cambio de Escena---

La madre de Dakota (Aretha) alimentaba al su enorme perro en el antejardín cuando su yerno bajó temprano y con un café en las manos la observó.

Aretha: ¿Se ha despertado ya?

Chace: No todavía, yo estoy acostumbrado a despertar a las seis de la mañana, despertarse a las ocho ya es un privilegio. –admitió sonriendo.

Aretha: Me alegra que arreglaran sus diferencias, sabía que podrían remediarlo.

Chace: Espero que se mantenga así por al menos un buen tiempo.

Aretha: Son solo discusiones si hay amor se puede solucionar, te lo digo yo que descubrí que mi esposo tenía otra familia.

Chace: Dakota me había platicado de eso, dice que fue un poco difícil restaurar la relación con su padre.

Aretha: De alguna forma es mi culpa, ya sabes amo a mis dos hijos, Dakota y Sebastian son mis ojos pero como madre siempre fue más cómplice de Sebastian que de mi hija. Ella tenía a mi marido, cuando pasó todo se sintió sola y yo no la ayudé tampoco.

Chace: Ella la quiere mucho señora Sky.

Aretha: Lo sé, exigirle tanto la aisló de todos es orgullosa, y es reservada porque yo permití que fuese así. Es gracioso porque ahora intento saber sus cosas, pero ahora ella ya no desea contarme.

Chace: Crio una hija maravillosa, no sería ella si no fuese por usted. Es un poco cabezota pero de alguna manera creo que también lo es usted.- bebió otro sorbo. –Espero poder hacerla muy feliz. –la mujer sonrió.

Dakota había despertado ya hace mucho rato, habría acompañado a la conversación si no fuese porque al percatarse que platicaban sobre ella. Decidió escuchar, después de un rato se hizo presente con un beso al chico, su madre esperaba lo mismo pero ella solo dijo un hola antes de volver a prepararse el desayuno.

---Cambio de Escena---

Andy dio un gran bostezo sentado en su cama mirando con una evidente cara de molestia a Michael que estaba sentando en el piso jugando con limón, la mascota que el mismo moreno le había regalado al pelinegro para su decimoséptimo cumpleaños.

Andy: Recuérdame no abrirte la puerta la próxima vez que digas que es urgente. –admitió.

Michael: Para mí era urgente. Necesitaba ver a Limón.

Andy: Jamás te he prohibido ver a Limón Mike, solo si vienes a las 10 de la mañana el día que no tengo clases temprano ¿no esperarás que te sonría verdad?

Michael: No podrías prohibir verlo, también es mío, soy su padre. –El hurón perseguía una ramita de trigo de un lado a otro.

Andy: Siempre he creído que tiene cierta parte de gato.

Michael: Como su madre.

Andy: No soy un gato. –entrecerró los ojos. -¿Y bien?

Michael: ¿y bien qué?

Andy: Me vas a decir que te pasa, siempre vienes a fastidiarme pero nunca lo haces tan temprano ¿Qué ocurre?

Michael: Me bajó la melancolía Andy, llegó mi periodo supongo.

Andy: ¿A qué te refieres?

Michael: Esta mañana cuando desperté recordé cuando éramos niños. ¿Recuerdas cuando nos conocimos? –le sonrió al moreno.

Andy: Había llegado recién de Chile, apenas sabía hablar el idioma pero tú…

Michael: Yo te comprendía solo con mirarte. ¿Habías sentido algo así con alguien? Por eso me molesta que no me aprecies, que no aprecies nuestra amistad.

Andy: Michael yo aprecio mucho tu amistad, eres como un hermano para mí. Lo que no aprecio es tu incesante idea de estar conmigo como pareja.

Michael: ¿Y qué tiene de malo?

Andy: ¡Nada!

Michael: ¿Entonces?

Andy: Simplemente no puedo imaginarme contigo de esa manera. Además de que si tú y yo fuésemos parejas y fracasáramos. ¿Qué ocurriría con nuestra amistad?

Michael: Andy, no puedes negar que en algún momento sentiste algo por mí.

Andy: Claro que lo hice, eres un chico asombroso Mike, solo que no me gustas.

Michael: ¿Y que si? ¿Daniel?

Andy: No.

Michael: ¿El profesor ese?

Andy: Mike, ¡para! –abrió los ojos algo cabreado. –Has pensando la presión que ejerces en mi vida constantemente. Apenas estoy empezando a reconstruir mi vida, Daniel volvió es otra constante que me pesa. No te conviertas tú también en una… No quiero tener que tratarte mal para que lo entiendas.

Michael miró al suelo unos segundos y luego a los ojos del chico.

Michael: ¿Entonces no tengo ninguna posibilidad?

Andy: Creo que no.

Michael: Ninguna, ninguna. –repitió. –A pesar de que no soy el mismo egocéntrico, estúpido, y me follo todo lo que se mueve. –Andy abrió las cortinas mientras el moreno hablaba y luego se afirmó de cuclillas frente al chico.

Andy: Me agradaba ese chico, de hecho era mi mejor amigo. –admitió y besó la frente del mayor. –Ahora debo bañarme para ir a la universidad.

Michael: Está bien.

Andy: Deberías llevarle a Limón a tu hermanita, puede que te sirva para distraerte.

El mayor se quedó pensando unos segundos mientras el pálido buscaba una toalla y ropa limpia para cambiarse después de la ducha.

Michael: Que pasaría si desapareciera de tu vida Andy.

Andy: ¿No vas a desaparecer verdad?

Michael: No, claro que no. Ahora responde.

Andy: Supongo que te extrañaría.

Mike estaba por preguntar si sería como extrañar a Daniel o incluso a Tyler, pero suponía que solo decirle alteraría a Andy. Porque no era igual, no lo era y él lo sabía.

Como jodía estar enamorado y no ser correspondido, volvió a pensar dentro de su cabeza aquel muchacho atractivo y moreno.

Pero algo bueno había salido de esa plática sentimental, ambos habían quedado de acuerdo en salir juntos como en los viejos tiempos a divertirse, hacer algo tonto, ir a la feria lo que fuese. Pero solo ellos dos.

Ya en clases Andy sin duda no había dejado de pensar en esa conversación inquietante de sentimentalismo de Michael. ¿Qué pasaría si en verdad le perdiese? Y fue la primera vez que pensó que tal vez se merecía una oportunidad en su vida. Después de todo la única persona que estuvo ahí para él o mejor dicho que logró sacarle sonrisas cuando Tyler falleció fue ese petulante, egocéntrico y estresante moreno.

Sus labios se curvaron en una tierna sonrisa, suponía que si Michael se fuese de su vida probablemente le dolería de una forma extraña, sería como un vacío en el ambiente.

Ya sabes sin esas risas, comentarios estúpidos, su manera de mirarle. La campana de las dos de las tres de la tarde le devolvió la vista al profesor y a las diapositivas que este mostraba.

Salió junto a algunos de sus amigos de carrera sobre la idea de ir a un local a beber y a distraerse, Andy no era mucho de compartir fuera de su grupo que formó en la escuela así que se negó con una sonrisa amigable prometiendo que para lo próxima sería agradable participar.

Pasó a por un libro a su facultad de ciencias y en la entrada justo cuando salía se encontró con el profesor Brackner entrando, fue en esas escaleras que eran más anchas que largas.

Josh: Andy. –le sonrió amigable y el muchacho hizo lo mismo. -¿Te ocurre algo?

Andy: ¿Qué?

Josh: Pareces algo triste.

Andy: Supongo que es la fecha. –se excusó rápidamente y el profesor le creyó con facilidad. Y de alguna manera tampoco era mentira que la idea del día del amor no le ponía del todo contento.

Josh: Entiendo… -hubo un silencio algo incómodo donde solo asintieron. Andy reacomodó su cabello y se excusó.

Andy: Supongo que nos vemos. –se encogió de hombres con esa sonrisa que provocaba ternura en el mayor.

Josh: Claro. –Andy comenzó a caminar y entonces el profesor gritó su apellido. – ¡Howells! –el pálido chico volteó y el profesor suspiró. -¿Tienes algo que hacer?... Me gustaría invitarte un café. –decir eso fue lento como un poco vergonzoso, el mayor se sentía ridículo al ponerse nervioso por un chico que le llevaba un poco más de diez años.

El muchacho de ojos azules sonrió al inicio, pero luego pensó un poco en la promesa que le había hecho a su amigo.

Andy: Tal vez otro día señor Brackner. Debo juntarme con alguien.

Josh: Lo entiendo. –admitió. –Supongo que para otra vez.

Andy: No tendré una excusa, lo prometo.

Se despidieron entonces siguiendo cada uno su camino.

---Cambio de Escena---

Miércoles por la tarde en el local que frecuentaba Melody junto a un montón de chicos agotados de los primeros tres días de la semana. Acompañaban la noche con alcohol, algo de drogas y un poco música. En un local así abundaba el negro y ser femenina era algo que no se veía mucho pero estaba presente.

Entre un montón de chicos se encontraba la rubia de ojos ahumados junto a sus amigas y otros chicos que conocía.

Jimmy que por alguna razón siempre conseguía entrar a pesar de sus 17 años, la buscó entre la multitud. Nadie diría que el muchachito iba aún en la escuela, después de que una chica filtreara con él llegó hasta la rubia que buscaba.

Mel: ¡Joder! Es que me aparecerás hasta en la sopa niñato. –comentó bebiendo un chupito al seco.

Jimmy: ¿Cuántos de esos llevas?

Mel: No lo sé, importa ¿eres mi madre ahora?

Jimmy: Solo no quiero que termines de la forma en la que terminaste cuando nos conocimos.

Mel: Lo recuerdas. –sonrió. –Qué bueno, yo ni siquiera puedo acordarme de cómo nos conocimos. Ahora neutrón, por qué no les haces un favor a todos y te vas a tu casa a dormir como un chico bueno.

Jimmy: Ven conmigo. –le pidió.

Mel: ¿Es que no sabes escuchar?

Jimmy: Mereces más que esto Mel, solo necesitas que alguien te lo enseñe.

Mel: ¿y ese eres tú? ¿Debo suponer?

Jimmy: Déjame intentar.

Mel: Y mientras qué ¿me pagas para ser tu niñera?

Jimmy: Soy más maduro que tú en muchos aspectos, yo no hago estas mierdas cada día de la semana.

Mel: Podría dejar de hacerlo si quisiera… pero no quiero. –bebió otro chupito frente al muchacho y escuchó al locutor hablarle a la rubia. –Ahora si me disculpas Jimbo, tengo que hacer lo que vine a hacer.

El muchacho frunció los labios mientras ella con la ayuda del locutor subió al escenario miró a la banda y empezaron a tocar. ‘’Under the Water de Pretty Reckless’’

Lay my head, under the water Lay my head, under the sea Excuse me sir, am I your daughter? Won't you take me back, take me back and see?

La voz gastada de Mel inició el tema frente al micrófono, ella tenía la mirada baja acompañada de la guitarra por ahora, no muchos prestaban atención a la música que se cantaba en aquel lugar. Miró hacia el costado mientras el muchacho obstinado afirmado de una pared la observó.

There's not a time, for being younger And all my friends, are enemies And if I cried unto my mother No she wasn't there, she wasn't there for me

Entonces el resto de la banda se unió, algunos que estaban demasiado ebrios mostraban interés meciéndose al ritmo de la música, y otros le silbaban a la muchacha. El problema de cantar en un lugar así es que a pocos les interesaba tu talento.

Don't let the water drag you down (Don't let the water drag you down) Don't let the water drag you down

Ojos cerrados con el micrófono entre sus manos, el público o algunos interesados hicieron la segunda voz cuando ella retomó la canción.

Broken lines, across my mirror Show my face, all red and bruised And though I screamed and I screamed, well, no one came running No I wasn't saved, I wasn't safe from you

Al chico se le anudó la garganta y aunque estaba molesto aun sabiendo que no tenía nada con la rubia, podía sentir que una parte de ella no era tan dura como intentaba mostrarse. Fue casi como una epifanía para el rubio, nadando dentro de un océano lo suficiente oscuro en busca de la voz.

Don't let the water drag you down (Don't let the water drag you down) Don't let the water drag you down

Aquella frase era para el adolecente, no dejes que Mel te lleve abajo dicho de una forma más directa. En su cabeza seguía nadando y entonces vio a la muchacha que vivía dentro de una coraza lúgubre y fría.

Don't let me drown, don't let me drown in the waves, oh I could be found, I could be what you had saved

Un cuerpo bajo un enorme océano oscuro, sujetó su mano intentando sacarla de allí pero resultaba más pesado que intentar respirar bajo el agua.

Saved, saved, saved

El aire se acababa para el muchacho que terminó por ir a la superficie por algo de aire. Entonces volvió en si mirando a la chica meciéndose al ritmo de la música.

Lay my head, under the water Aloud I pray, for calmer seas And when I wake from this dream, with chains all around me No, I've never been, I've never been free

Abrió los ojos después de dejarse fluir un momento por la guitarra eléctrica. Fue el primer momento donde Mel y Jimmy hicieron contacto ojo a ojos en la canción, pero mientras él se sentía de brazos cruzados ella sonreía, sonreía de una forma tan poco alegre.

No, I've never been, I've never been free No, I've never been, I've never been free

Las últimas líneas casi como un susurro, el muchacho buscó la salida entre aquella multitud y la chica se quedó cantando sobre el escenario mirando como el rubio decidió salir a despejarse un momento.

---Fin de la primera parte---

0 notes

fycourtera · 12 years

Text

{chapter twenty-six: 5} evelyn&garrett, leah

Garrett: There's no mention of what's happening today in the Prophet. *He thought there must have been some small article about it at least, though he knew the bigger, more in detail one, was sure to come after today's event. He briefly wondered if Damocles would want to keep the reporters at bay, or just the opposite before deciding he really didn't want to know. No matter how hard he tried to distance himself from the situation, he couldn't seem to turn without bumping in to some aspect of the 'war' here at court. His eyes sought out his wife and daughter, the pair of them having been discussing something as he leafed through the paper.

Garrett had been a teenager the last time he had seen a man hang, and only a few years older when Damocles' servant, Rowland, had been sentenced as well, though the deed hadn't be carried on. Garrett remembered very well what it was to watch a man die. It was different by the rope that in the heat of battle, when you were fighting for your life. When it came to these, the people who were going to hang walked as if they were already dead. There was a distinct lack of hope in the eyes of the men and women sentenced to die that was difficult to behold.

Leah would be present, there with the rest of the knights, he knew. It was odd that his worry didn't stem from her watching what would happen, but rather for what she might do to protect the father of a...friend. It was even difficult to admit it to himself, he could hardly say it out loud. He closed the paper, folding it and placing it on the table.* This death sentence does not sit well with me. *Even if the man was guilty, the sentence was not equal to the crime.*

Evelyn: *Her chair was pushed near her husband even as she was turned to her daughter, one hand holding the orange slice she was eating, one hand resting on Garrett's knee beneath the table. If she let herself think about what she would be witnessing today - honestly think and contemplate, Evelyn knew her face would break, tears would fall, her voice would raise and crack at new heights. She also knew better. Though her heart might pound and gut twist, not a tear would fall. She sat with an unreadable smile, back straight, in the middle of thanking Leah so much for the book she'd given her for her birthday a week ago. They were chatting excitedly about the plot, for of course, she had finished it already. Her daughter had seized the opportunity to discuss it with equal poise as her mother. Evelyn was torn between pride and sadness, to see her adopt a ladies courtesy so well, even as they mused upon the merit's of the dashing pirate in the book. Were circumstances different, her expression might have twisted towards a smirk, she might have lingered on enjoyable moments when Garrett had read the book aloud to her - only to reenact a scene or two with his 'own interpretation - but this was not the morning for that. Her analysis of the villain cut off as her husband interjected she spun her neck slowly to look at him, sadness and understanding clouding her eyes. Finishing the rind and lowering it delicately onto the thin, porcelain plate in front of her, the only sign of her agitation was the way her hand squeezed Garrett's knee tighter at the words.* Nor does it sit well with me, honey.

Leah: *Elbows tensing as her gaze darted from her mother to her father, she braced against the hardwood of their breakfast table. Lord, couldn't she just have continued imagining Mitchell as a pirate? He'd have a monkey, not a parrot on his shoulder - gold around his neck, the eye patch of the novel's main character only a disguise of his true identity, the peg leg a magic trick just to give her a heart attack and make her fuss. She didn't want to talk about this with her father, not with what they were planning. Simply put, her father knew her too well: he would know from looking at her whether she was being honest. Still she met his eyes, pressing her lips together and breathing out a simple exhale, knowing what she was going to hear next: the punishment might be too far, but he was of course guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt. Evenly, she said under her breath with her gaze on her Father,* I appreciate that, Dad. Daniel's only crime is the audacity to have a muggleborn son. But he would prefer this, I am sure, to Arthur's execution in his place.

Garrett: *He had never been accused of being observing, no matter how attentive he had tried to be with details over the years to better please his wife and children. Therefore if the two of them had honestly been trying to avoid the obvious topic of conversation, he hadn't caught it. After a moment or two, he was regretting to bring it up at all, but he had never been able to ignore the elephant in the room. He was the only one of his immediate family to have almost no hope in playing the game of court, Even Charles possessed his mother's finesse for navigating these situations instead of his own stomping march. Even Leah now, after so many years, had finally learned to tread the shark infested waters, by pretending to be a shark herself. His hand dropped over Evelyn's, squeezing as well before looking up at Leah at her words, ignoring the obvious distaste and ire she held for anyone who attempted to entertain the possibility of these people's guilt; he'd rather have her make these comments than to ignore him entirely* What parent wouldn't give their life to save their child? If any of you needed my help with a robbery, I would do so in a heartbeat. *He shrugged, finding nothing wrong with the statement-- well, that was until he turned to look at Evelyn again, so he added.* Though I am not condoning it, of course.

Evelyn: *Lacing her fingers through her husband's, comforted by reassurance as much as his remark even if she was exasperated (and terrified) as well. Her eyes expressed her adoration despite the trying times; she was grateful that whatever their current disagreements there was clearly no less love of any of them in the room. Looking at Leah a moment, she spoke slowly - a hint of knowledge in her gaze,* These men stole from our family -- killed, our cousin. I wish I knew why. Yet as Daniel was guilty of neither, I do not see how this is justified. *She was mystified by her brother going along with it: she knew how against executions he was if he could help it. Her lips flicked a moment and she leaned to kiss Garrett's cheek, adding,* Of course you're not, love.

Leah: *There was something in her mother's gaze alarming her, Leah's breath scattered by the look more than the words. She didn't want to think about Benjamin -- couldn't, think about Benjamin. Oh, Lord, her father had told her mother hadn't he? They never had secrets from one another -- or rather, Garrett did not have secrets from her mother, and her mother would eventually tell him everything "at the right moment. Still though, there was something more there...a suspicion as she said 'these men.' Her heart flapping as she went over the plan in her head again, she was surprised they couldn't hear it, and was genuinely heartened to see their tiny moment of affection. Nodding once in agreement, she ignored the fact her father insinuated he believed Daniel had helped to say instead,* If I was committing a crime, Dad, I would not put you in danger by knowing about it. *Her eyes sparkled at the sudden undertone to her words.* Either of you, really, I don't see why children can't protect parents too.

Garrett: *Well, Benjamin had not been -his- cousin, and he felt no qualm in admitting to himself there was no grief over his death, especially not after what Leah had told him, though he just...tended to ignore the part of it he didn't like. His lips lifted in an easy smile at the small kiss on his cheek before looking at Leah once more, eyebrows rising for a moment, pleading with himself not to try and attempt at the meaning behind her words. But after a moment he realized he didn't need to know the specifics, and instead said out loud with a chuckle, lips twitching* I'd know about it. *He smirked briefly, knowing it wasn't completely true, but his point remained, before adding lightly, a tease directed at his wife* And I can play the ignorant fool much better than your mother.

#leah weston #garrett brackner #evelyn brackner #book: the proclamation #chapter twenty six #i'mjustdead #Q

0 notes

fycourtera · 12 years

Text

{chapter seventeen: 12} evelyn, leah, jane, charles, kitty

Evelyn: Leah! Leah, wait!

Leah: *Freezes, the copied pages from Benjamin’s book curling suddenly in her hand as she mentally wipes them again and spins back, smiling sweetly* Hello, mother. I’m sorry- I need to go see Derrick -

Evelyn: *tiniest bit of confusion* You mean-

Leah: My Lord Commander, yeah. *Her lips twitch as she corrects the title.*

Evelyn: *coming up to her, her face crumpled in concern and saying softly* It’s important, Leah.

Leah: *Feeling a bit guilty about lying, seeing as how she really was looking for a way to go see Mitchell, she swallows tightly, warily at the look on her mother’s face. Then she nods, saying quickly, with obvious fear* What is it?

Evelyn: Could you please get your brother and sisters? I would like to tell you together.

Leah: Mother-

Evelyn: No one’s died. *Immediately, seeing the fear on her daughters’ face* No one’s hurt. Just…I want to tell you together. In the study?

Leah: *Realizing this was absolutely no joke, she nods and leans in to kiss her mother’s cheek* Of course. *She spins around, thinking hard about where they’d be.*

Evelyn: *Watching her daughter walk off troubled, she shakes her head to herself. No one was hurt? That was a bit of wishful thinking, wasn’t it? Ara was. Her sister was appalled. Evelyn herself was hurt. She imagined that her children would be hurt- how could she put this in a letter and tell Nicholas and Samuel either? They looked up to him so much…These thoughts circulated around while she fetched herself a glass of water, breathing out and pacing in the study. She looked up as her children entered, she said with a tight-lipped smile,* Thank you.

Kitty: *immediately* Mother—you look pale. *Hurrying towards her mother, she puts one hand on her shoulder*

Evelyn: *Waving off her concern gratefully, she shakes her head and says calmer* I’m well, Kitty.

Jane: *She had been in the middle of attempting to coax Charles into wearing a flower as a groomsmen for Kitty, and was still disgruntled about being interrupted considering she was so close and Charles hadn’t even realized he was being manipulated. Well, he hadn’t realized until Leah appeared. On the way to the study, he’d leaned in and pointed out to her he wasn’t ‘that gullible’, which of course he was but — seeing her mother’s expression, the thought was thrown out.* What happened?

Charles: *he asks simultaneously with Jane,* Where’s Father? *He had assumed, if there was such important news, they would have been told by both parents at once. Whatever Leah had said about ‘no one being hurt’, Father’s absence seemed conspicuous to him—a worry he saw reflected on all his siblings faces*

Leah: *closing the door behind them, she nods at her mother a ‘your welcome’ for having fetched them. Benjamin’s papers in her pocket were curled up now, out of the way. She looked at her mother evenly, as wary as all of them, but trying to keep her expression neutral.*

Evelyn: He’s with his brother. *She bites her bottom lip.* I wanted to let you know…Frederick…

Jane: *instantly* Is he all right?

Evelyn: He’s fine. *hesitantly.* He’s…*she raises her hand to her forehead, wishing she had her husband with her, though judging on reactions and their faces..maybe not.* Frederick decided he would…rather not, stay at court. He…left, he walked out.

Leah: *She grasps it instantly and her eyes shut, holding in a sudden breath of air, wondering bitterly, if Frederick could be disowned, then what the hell was going to keep her in this family if anyone ever found out what she was doing. A moment later, she felt sick: here she was worried about herself, and Frederick was out there, just as Mitchell was. Dear God, was no family safe anymore?*

Charles: *confusedly, his jawline hardening* Where did he go?

Jane: The country? *Tilting her head, wondering why if Frederick had wanted to leave he wouldn’t have told her.*

Kitty: But….why?

Evelyn: No, not to the country. *She set the glass down on the cart and said quietly,* He abdicated the responsibilities of his title, he—

Kitty: What?

Charles: Is this some kind of joke? *his face in a smirk, not understanding* Frederick? He wouldn’t just leave,

Leah: *Staring at her mother, she said instantly,* He wouldn’t if he had any choice, no.

Evelyn: *quietly* Leah.

Leah: No, mother, we’re talking about him being disowned, aren’t we?

Kitty: *stifles a squeak as her palm leaps to her mouth*

Charles: *eyes go wide* Why would Frederick-

Jane: Oh, God. *she turns away, shaking her head to herself and screwing up her eyes*

Evelyn: *just as steadily as Leah’s voice* He chose to walk out.

Leah: How much choice did he have?

Charles: And Father’s with Uncle Cyrus?

Kitty: I don’t understand.

Charles: Frederick wouldn’t just…leave, he…but no.

Evelyn: *her bottom lip quivers for a second and then she says softly* I don’t know the whole story, Leah, I’m as stunned as you are.

Kitty: *Reaching for her own water, she takes a steadying sip.* But where would he— where would he go? Can we see him?

Evelyn: I do—

Jane: I do. *quietly, and then everyone turns to look at her stunned. She waits a few seconds and then shakes her head stubbornly.* I’m sorry, he swore me to secrecy.

Evelyn: *instant* Is he hurt?

Jane: No.

Evelyn: Is he in danger?

Jane: *a thin-lipped smile* Only of being happy.

Charles: *frowns* Happy? When he’s been-

Kitty: *quiet* But Jane, he’s okay?

Jane: I imagine he would be now, yes.

Evelyn: *she waits a moment looking between them, and then says very courteously—after hugging Kitty back, for she’d leaned in to hug her* — well, I won’t pry into his life, then. I’m going to find your father. But I wanted you to…hear it from me, and know that your father and I love all of you very much. *There’s murmurs of ascension, she waits for her children to all kiss her on the cheek before she leaves.*

Leah: *instantly as the door closes spinning back to Jane* Well, I will pry. Jane, what’s going on?!

Jane: *snorts, she tilts her head at Leah to say ‘really?’ with her eyes*

Kitty: *sitting down, appearing shaky still* I just hope he’s…

Charles: Jane. Either tell us, or -

Jane: All right! *she holds up her hand* No need to threaten me, geesh. He’ll be in the town. *she rubs her forehead, a smile still on her lips.*

Charles: *confusedly* Why on Earth would he be in the village?

Leah: *rolling her eyes, saying incredulously* Frederick?

Jane: Yes, Frederick. And…because, Charles, that’s where Lucy Harte lives.

-silence-

Leah: Luce?

Kitty: *confused* Thomas’s Lucy?

Charles: From the stables? *his eyebrows skyrocketing*

Jane: Yes, from the stables, Thomas’s friend.

Kitty: I thought they were more than friends.

Charles: Why on Earth would you know that Kitty?

Jane: They’re not. They just want people to think that.

Kitty: *eye rolls* Because he’s my brother as much as you, Charles?

Charles: Still. *shrugs a shoulder*

Leah: *eyes still on Jane, her brows in her hair* Jane, I’m sorry, I don’t get the joke.

Jane: This is no joke. *Quietly* I would bet money, that if Rick walked out of here, it was to go see her.

Leah: You aren’t seriously expecting me to believe that Frederick would have-*apparently can’t get the words out, her voice leaps with incredulity* —with a muggleborn?!

Charles: *slowly* When he said he was upset about Lucille…

Jane: *drily* Yeah, he didn’t mean Estbury. You might have, but he didn’t.

Kitty: *With a slow smile spreading across his lips* Frederick’s in love?

Charles: With Lucy Harte?

Leah: *swiveling on Charles* What’s that tone?

Charles: You’re as shocked as I am, Leah!

Leah: Well, yes, I’m shocked, that doesn’t mean I say her name with disdain - Lucy’s a wonderful person, Charles!

Charles: I wasn’t insinuating she wasn’t!

Leah: Just not good enough for Rick, right?

Charles: Stop putting words in my mouth, sister!

Leah: I’m just reading in to your tone, brother!

Kitty:*ignoring their bickering, she looks at Jane’s smile, with her own spreading softly across her lips as they go, she asks softly* …you think he left to be with her?

Jane: *quiet* Whatever it was that went down, yes. And I must say, it’s about time. He was miserable, and wouldn’t stop drinking, and it was driving me mad.

Kitty: *her lips twitch* You and Malcolm were just as aggravating.

Jane: Shhh, not the point.

Leah:*swivels back to Jane, apparently done with Charles* When did this happen?

Jane: *shrugs a shoulder* A while ago.

Charles: *a little bit hurt, and clearly confused still, he asks softer* And he just told you?

Jane: *She pauses at that and then says fairly,* I guessed. And dragged it out of him.

Charles: *drily* Imagine that.

Leah: *wiggles her nose and lips* …so if we went to see him, would it be interrupting him and Luce?

Jane: *she laughs aloud at that and shrugs a shoulder* I wouldn’t know actually, she was pretty angry with him. Though she absolutely had a right to be. And at the same time, when I spoke to her, she clearly loves him too.

Charles: This was what took so long that day in the stables, wasn’t it?

Jane: I gave Alisea a sugar cube too.

Leah: Right, well, I’m still going to see him. *decidedly, she turns; she’s mind-blown, but if her cousin needed help of any kind, then she was going to give it to him.*

Jane: I’ll come. *immediately* He probably needs some clothes, depending….

Kitty: *instantly adding* Wait, let me get together some food for him—

Charles: *snorts* Oh, you three are amazing. A care package?

Kitty: Why not?

Charles: For being disowned? There’s a care package for being disowned?

Kitty: For love!

Charles: *snorts and shakes his head, arms on his waist, his own expression caught between amusement and sadness, and he shakes his head with a little smirk before saying calmly* Fine. I know where there’s an extra bottle of scotch too.

Jane: Charles!

#kitty weston #charles brackner #leah weston #jane brackner #evelyn brackner #chapter seventeen #UGH you guys give me so many emotions #Evelyn's not pleased honestly: there's nothing to her that justifies abandoning family #nothing #this .. gives me miah feels #garrettyouarenotallowed #aosdjfhoiashdfhalfagreeswiththedisowningUGHgarrettSTOP IT #but brackner siblings are love #jane x charles #the weston #weston sisters #book: the proclamation

0 notes

fycourtera · 12 years

Text

{chapter thirteen: 2} the party (evett)

Garrett: *He breathed out heavily as Evelyn dusted off his shoulder, moments before they were set to enter.* It's not too late to just turn back now. Now one can blame you for falling ill. *This entire ball was threatening to make him sick, actually, so it wasn't entirely untrue. Having to share a room, their food, and their wine with those muggleborns...the lines of his forehead wrinkled as he frowned and muttered under his breath* I have no idea what you're brother was thinking.

Evelyn: Me for falling ill? *Her lips twitched, shaking her head and saying teasingly* Yes, sweetheart, in a fit of woman's frailty I was overcome with a desire to faint and thus you must take me home. *she shakes her head, thinking over the night as she took her hand back to lace their fingers together, while biting her bottom lip.* He...I spoke with him earlier, he said I knew little of war strategy. *Then she paused. Her head tilted. And she looked back up.* ...all right, if it is truly so bad, I will faint. Just for you.

Garrett: *he laughed under his breath at her description, ever amazed by her ability to make him smile even during the most painful and displeasing of situations.* Sweetheart, the only thing frail about you is that dress. I know, I've ripped it before. *he wiggled his eyebrows and then chuckled before sighing under his breath* If this is war, I want my sword. *his lips twitched and then he kissed her briefly* Only one way to find out, unfortunately. *he offered his arm to her, loathing to let go of her hand but knowing it was how they must enter* For better, or for worse. This being the worse they spoke of.

Evelyn: *Smiling a moment at the memory, she shook her head in honest amusement and incredulity. She let it slide though--this time, there was enough going on. At his sigh and request, she nodded and said bitterly, a hint of sadness in her voice a moment* My trouble is I know not the side of this war I am on...*she let her eyes flutter shut as he kissed her, meeting the kiss softly and heartened by the warmth it instinctively brought her. Pulling back only as he did, she let her hand free reluctantly and then chuckled again* Oh my love, if attending a party is the worse, we have come a long way from how we began indeed. *Her smile flicked.* And I'm glad.

Garrett: *he nodded slowly, understanding her dilemma: her brother was on side, her husband on another. Garrett was not heartless, and it did pain him to be at odds with a friend he called brother, the oldest he had aside from Evelyn herself. Yet, he could not agree with him, he could not even understand. And Garrett would not bend. He took her arm, smiling easier at her next comment than her last* As am I, my love. *he kissed her cheek right before they were due to walk out into the entrance* As am I. *Now, it was time for bright smiles and false courtesies. How exciting*

#garrett brackner #evelyn brackner #evett #chapter thirteen #book: the proclamation

1 note · View note

fyrowecca · 12 years

Text

George: *after having fought off a wave of French knights, he had noticed a fallen knight of Faye on the ground, still alive but in pain so George had quickly picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, taking him to the infirmary. After assuring he was taken care of, George began to leave once more, wordlessly assuring Adelina with a brief kiss on his way out, walking down an empty hallway at a fast pace towards the grounds* Oliver: *as he walks, he's had his eyes screwed up, and his hands boxing his own ears half the time, feeling oddly as though he's fighting a massive internal battle he can't quite name. He can hear an insistent, evil little voice in his mind, constantly reminding him he had to find those he loved--and why shouldn't he want to see them? With everything going on? -- except it was to kill them--why did he want to do that?--he didn't want to do that--he had to do that--but why?--because he did.--but why?-----He comes to a halt suddenly as he sees George down the hall, walking as furiously fast as he was and instinctively before he'd thought, his hand had settled on the hilt of his sword. He bites his bottom lip, before he calls after his brother* George! George: *turning around in surprise as he hears the voice of his brother calling for him, confused to see him inside, unscathed, as if he hadn't even been fighting outside. George had not seen him out there, but then again he had not seen many of their comrades for logical reasons, and yet* Oliver? What's wrong? *perplexed as he moves to Oliver, brows furrowed as he thinks that maybe something had happened but hadn't he just came back from the infirmary? Thinking nothing of Oliver's hand at his sword right then, he kept closing the space in between them with his steps* Did something happen? Oliver: *as George moves closer and closer towards him, he fingers the hilt of his sword, his mind suddenly blown with just the logistics of the act alone--how could he even do it? He knew perfectly well how accomplished his brother was with his sword, he was taller than him, he was older--was he actually thinking about this? --Of course George didn't suspect anything--why would he--so truly all he needed was the element of surprise--but then why would he attack his brother?--and he certainly had that at the moment, as George came closer...and closer...-- His head and chin came up* You mean aside from the hundred and a half french knights and the dragon..? *his words dry* You could say that...it's more that something has to happen... George: *stops in his steps, his eyebrows rising in surprise and confusion at Oliver's answer, knowing his brother was one for sarcasm and jokes, but never about such serious matters.* ...which you are supposed to be fighting...*slowly, not taking any further steps forward, trying to discern what could be the matter here* What are you doing, Oliver? Oliver: *Thinking: Was he supposed to be fighting? Why did that sound right? That wasn't what his orders were... His own eyebrows furrow with sudden confusion, as he asks in the same sarcastic, dry voice* Am I? *his jaw setting in annoyance, heart pounding as he takes a step forward himself, hand now gripping the hilt of the sword -- even as another voice in his head screams against what he's doing* I'm doing...what I'm told. *he stops walking, looking at a window in the hall, beyond which it was plain to see the fighting still raging distantly, his voice similarly distant as he continues* I am supposed to be attacking...I have to. *without looking at George, as his face had suddenly contorted with pain at his own words and he scowls at the weakness, hand gripping on his sword tighter. Now he looks back at George, echoing himself, his words fervent and firm* I have to. George: *gaze flicks to Oliver's hand gripping the handle of the sword, frowning further as he realizes Oliver could unsheathe it in one swift motion, though as to why his brother, his own flesh and blood, would want to hurt him, he had no idea. George knew it would be foolish to reach for his own sword, it would only make things worse. Shaking his head slowly as he tries to make sense of Ollie's words, he speaks up quietly but just as firmly* You don't have to do anything you don't want to do...*raising his eyebrows before he swallows, gaze flicking to his brother's sword again as he grips it tighter* Do you want to hurt me, Oliver? Oliver: *his brows furrow over a set jaw as he thinks to himself it was an interesting question. Why did he want to attack him? Because he loved him? Wasn't that just backwards? Aggravated, he takes another step closer to his brother, shaking his head very slowly, attempting to puzzle this out* It isn't about what I want. I follow orders, that's what I *have* to do. *and he draws his sword very swiftly and closes in on his brother, only to hesitate again, the strain of his emotion showing on his face as an internal, very loud voice echoed a repeated: DON'T* George: Whose orders are you following? *eyebrows raised still as he takes another step back deducing what it was that might have happened, frowning and shaking his head* A monster's? *gritting his teeth he takes another step backwards as Oliver draws his sword, his hand gripping his own* Don't do this Oliver. *loathing to take out his sword against his own brother, he's waiting until it's absolutely necessary* Oliver: *his face contorts at the first question, his emotions in obvious agreement with his brother's assessment, as who but a monster would order one to attack his their own flesh and blood?, but his teeth gnash together and he finds himself gagged. Marcus had ordered them not to tell what had transpired in the woods. Drawing his sword higher, his face screwed up, he barely hisses* Draw your sword, brother. Defend yourself. *there's another note of desperation in his voice* Please. George: *shakes his head slowly, though the grip on his sword remains, frowning as he sees the pain Oliver's going through etched clearly on his face--he was fighting an internal battle and given that they weren't trading blows yet, his brother was not lost, and he wouldn't give up on him. Lower your sword, Oliver. *firmly* Cast him out of your head--he is the enemy, not I. Oliver: *at his brother's words his frown deepens and his eyes shut for a half moment. He bites his own lip hard enough to draw blood, jaw trembling and yet his grip on his sword only tightens with resolve; he was losing, and he knew it, and the resultant anger and frustration seemed only to hasten the inevitable truth of his attack--as if the angrier he got, he darker he got, and the more easily he was to be controlled. Caught in a viscous Catch 22--for how could he let go of anger for his weakness? When he was hurting his older brother, his best and closest friend, whom he knew would willingly give his life for his? Tears appeared in his eyes as they opened slowly and he shook his head in a bare whisper* If you choose not to defend yourself...*his heart thumps painfully loud, wishing his brother would strike first, stop him from hurting anyone* ...the fault lays with you. *he brings his sword down suddenly, though to Oliver he hardly feel it--as if his arm moved of it's own accord as it slashed straight towards his brother's heart* George: *shaking his head slowly, lips pursed as he tries once more, speaking softly, almost pleadingly* Oliver. Don't. *seeing him about to strike, George steps to the side and draws his sword simultaneously, just in time to parry the blow, the clash of steel against steel ringing through the hallway. Pushing Oliver back using his sword, George huffs out, sword raised to block out any attack* Stop this, Oliver! Oliver: *as the swords smash together and ring down the otherwise silent hall, the noise seems to jostle him, as if he understands that better than the soft refusal from his brother's lips--the finality in the sound hurt him and he let himself be pushed back, shaking his head repeatedly, angry tears still in his eyes, a pounding in his head and heart* I can't. *the whisper pitiful, wretched as he swings his sword again* You--you have to stop me, George, I can't. George: *gritting his teeth together again, he blocks the swing again, not making any movements to strike offensively, fearing that doing so would cause his brother to react instinctively and fight back harder* You, can, Ollie, break free. *sidesteps and blocks another swing, exhaling roughly as he realizes Oliver's not letting up, and soon he'd have to strike back or be injured. Yet he couldn't take down his own brother, he couldn't and he wouldn't* Stand down! Oliver: *despite the fact that the world was blurry with his unspilled angry tears, he found it easier to swing than think -- fighting was natural, fighting he was good at, and right now, thinking only made his heart ache, his head hurt. Heavy with his own regret, he growled at the barked command, shaking his head--part of him was thinking he knew he could easily overpower Ellen, could easily defeat Leanne--and heavens, Malcolm was only a month old--that it had to be George he fought, that his brother was the only one who could defeat him, hurt him hard enough to render him incapable of hurting anyone else--and for that reason along he jabbed forward again, hoping to provoke him into defending himself as he snapped as well* You don't --*with heavy breath, he swings again* Understand. It has-- *swing, smash* --to be you--I can't hurt anyone else! Please..*swings again heavily, spinning, a tear rolling down his cheek as he echoes* Please. George: *hissing as Oliver's sword grazed his shoulder, unable to sidestep it in time, he shook his head stubbornly, thinking of something else he could do, but the blows were coming in too quickly for him to get out his wand and knock him out. Feeling like a heavy weight was sinking in to his stomach, he realized the logical solution but couldn't bring himself to do it. Breathing heavily, he blocked the incoming blows again, shaking his head* I can't. Garrett: *after helping to carry Arabella inside, he was walking back outside when he heard the sound of swords. Taking his own out he walked quicker, following the sound of metallic ringing. Rounding a corner, his eyes widen to see Oliver and George fighting, the younger man attacking with all his might, while the eldest simply hit after hit, stepping backwards as he did. Running towards them, he quickly realized George had no intention of counter-striking Oliver's next move, which would be impossible to evade otherwise* George! *gripping the man's collar, Garrett spun him out of the way and onto the ground, leaving Garrett open to Oliver's attack as he had not been able to raise his sword in time* Oliver: *his face contorted--almost angry now that his brother wouldn't do it, it fueling his attack he hardly hears the shout from Garrett as he brings his sword down heavily and fast, breathing harsh and rough with the effort, the metal ringing in his ears. He recognizes Garrett for a moment only, quickly reminded of his aggravation with the man for what he'd put his family through, though contrary to common sense that makes him less interested in attacking him--but he can't stop the sword, and it comes down into Garrett's side, jabbing at the underside of his armor and sinking into his flesh. He stands for a moment startled as the sword digs deeper and then backs up instantly, alarmed at himself and feeling a jolt--furious at his own action and overwhelmed, he drops the sword and starts shaking his repeatedly in an exhale of* No, no, no-- Garrett: *eyes widening in pain and horror as the blade digs into his flesh, his scream seems to be caught in his throat for it's soundlessly that he drops to the floor, sword falling from his fingers as he passes a gloved hand over the opening, starts shivering as the blood flows out of his body, fighting with himself to remain conscious, somehow remembering instinctively that he had a better chance that way* George: Garrett! *pushing up from the floor, he sheathes his sword he moves to Garrett lying on the floor, digging for his wand instead and taking it out, muttering spells under his breath before exhaling, shaking his head before speaking quickly* The internal injuries are too severe, he's losing a lot of blood--Oliver help me carry him *gaze flicks to his brother briefly, momentarily worried* Focus on your guilt later. Garrett: *shivering, he licks his lips, spluttering out a rushed* Just think us even. *gasping out, wincing before he grins, the pain catching up to him* George: *frowning in disapproval while he bandages it up until he can get Garrett help* Save your strengths. Oliver: *as Garrett falls, and the sword falls with an obnoxiously loud clatter of metal on marble, both of his hands go up to his head. One hand covers his mouth, his breathing heavy and hard, yet he stifles it as his chest seizes with pain and frustration, the other wipes off his forehead, trying to clean blood that had splattered from his hands. It's only when his brother shouts at him that had splattered from his hands. It's only when his brother shouts at him that he realizes the angry, evil voice in his head telling him it was his fault is now his own, that the pounding sense of obligation and crushing weight of the vampire's mind was gone, he'd thrown him out in his shock, and his face contorts as he's hit with full understanding of everything he'd done--from letting Marcus in to the manor to kill Damocles, to his fatal attack and he lets out a stream of curse words under his breath. Landing on his knees at the side of his fallen friend and his brother, he looks at them both a moment only--but in that moment, he looks drawn with heart wrenching guilt and apology, as he's reminded with the horrible sudden clarity that Garrett was due to be married--due to be a father, and now lay clinging on to life. Because of him. He smashes his teeth together as he clenches his jaw and breathes a wordless--and in Oliver's opinion worthless--apology as he nods in agreement with George and bends over to heave Garrett into his arms, helped with George* George: *after taking a brief moment to ensure to himself that Oliver was of his own mind, a fact clearly evident by the pain and guilt in his brother's face, he wonders for a second what other atrocities he might have committed under the orders of the vampire before expelling it from his mind--the most important thing being to heal Garrett* Garrett: *breathing in through his nose, eyes rolling in his head for a moment, the pain being unbearable and as he coughs, a small spray of blood emitting from his mouth. Biting down on his lip, he tries to stifle a pained groan as George and Oliver stand him up, intending on supporting some of his weight but as he tries to take a step for himself he gasps, blinding hot pain leaving breathless* George: Don't--for Merlin's sake, Garrett--*places Garrett so Oliver and him could carry him fully and then begin to move him at the fastest speed they could manage towards the infirmary* Oliver: *he instantly looks away from his brother, face contorted in pain and cheeks flushing in shame, focused on carrying Garrett--briefly impressed by the man's stubbornness* Evelyn: *is standing near Arabella, still breathing very heavily; she'd washed the blood from her arms just to avoid getting infected and mixing with other patients, spots of blood still around her eyes. She's holding a water glass to her lips taking a deep sip when she sees them--as if in a sudden haze, for her lungs cease working, her heart starts a slow painful steady beat in her ears and the world stops for a moment. Jarred as she hears a crash, she realizes she'd dropped her glass when she'd already moved away from it, her face drawn in worry and shock, momentarily free of tears as she hurries towards all three of them, wary about getting in their way, breathing out terrified* Garrett! Oliver: *his eyes shut as he hears Evelyn's worry, as soon as he and George heave Garrett onto an available bed he backs away in shame, letting her by him* Evelyn: *her head snaps up as she hears Oliver mumble an apology he wasn't aware of and she looks at him accusingly for a few seconds, though she already has her wand out and is simultaneously helping divest Garrett of his ruined armor, and she blinks in confusion* Why are you apologizing? What happened? *her tone is sharp, even as she looks back down at Garrett, freeing his chest of armor and seeing the bandages, already flooded red again. Her heart falls into her stomach; she shakes her head violently to dispel tears as she grasps Garrett's hand again and looks back up. As Oliver had found no words to answer her, she looks instead at George* Garrett: *wincing as every movement made just sends a wave of shocking pain up his side, groaning under his breath only once before he blinks, trying to clear out his eyes, his breath catching a bit in his chest as he hears a familiar voice* Evelyn. *whispers* George: *helping to get Garrett onto the bed, he also shares some guilt about this, though he chooses not to focus on it for it wasn't about to get anything done. With only a brief glance back at Oliver, he looks at Evelyn, whatever discrepancies they had before becoming suddenly unimportant as he explains breathlessly* Oliver was trying to kill me under the imperius curse, and Garrett threw me out of the way, took the blow instead. Garrett: *breathing a bit easier as he's freed of the armor though his shivering increases, the loss of blood affecting him, though he holds on to Evelyn's hand as she grabs it, not being able to grip it too tightly, before he mumbles out* Flesh wound. George: *hurriedly* I would suggest delirium but that's just him--*exhales, looking back at Evelyn* Where's Healer Marian? He has severe internal damage. Maybe a broken rib. Oliver: *as he hears it said aloud he grimaces, and as Evelyn looks at him he winces, stepping back and look at the ground, trying to stay out of the way now; noticing her hand had curled into a fist and realizing he wouldn't care if she hit him* Evelyn: *her eyes had gone wide and unconsciously she nearly goes to hit him--but is pulled out of it as she hears Garrett say her name weakly; she looks down instantly, holding his hand tighter and she leans down, still listening to George, murmuring quietly* Shh, my love. What did you do now? *her voice sad, but she's smiling determinedly to give him as much hope as she could, and she looks back up at George, saying quietly* She's dead. She'd gone outside with Maeve...*she looks back to Oliver and says determinedly* Are you sure you're free? Oliver: *only able to nod* Evelyn: *she holds his gaze a moment and then ignores him, looking back down at Garrett and holding his hand tighter, shaking her head as she hears him saying softly* I'm right here. Don't you dare go anywhere on me. Garrett: *through his blurring sight he sees Evelyn smile at him, responding with a small one of his own for as long as he could, afterwards closing his eyes as he fights off a grimace, coughing once and then exhales* Something stupid. George: *unwilling and not wanting to get in between any moment of Evelyn and Garrett, and still feeling somewhat responsible for this, he decidedly waits until Garrett is out of danger before expressing his gratitude. Pressing his lips together at hearing Marian is dead, he exhales, passing a hand over his face* Who's here that can help? *his mind briefly thinks of Adelina, but he quickly casts that aside, knowing that Evelyn wouldn't leave Garrett's side and he was quite selfishly incapable of risking the two of them finding out about Adelina* Garrett: Can't move. *chuckles which ends up turning into a cough he quickly stifles* Evelyn: *her lips twitch without true amusement, muttering* Very stupid. *bringing her free hand up, unable to stop her smile from faltering as he coughs, breaking in worry and she brushes very gently against his cheek, brushing his hair lightly as she continues softly* Good. Save your strength. *in a heartbroken tease* So I can yell at you later. Oliver: *he leans back against a column, eyes flitting across the room, however dazed and he nods as he see Theresa coming over, and he's sheathed his wand and sword, wary of touching them* Theresa: *instantly speaking, not looking at Ollie, as George frets* I can. *she brings her wand up, jaw set in determination, ultimately unfazed by the blood still soaking forward* Evelyn: *lifts up very slightly, wiping tears from her eyes and nods to Theresa as the two lock eyes, without letting his hand go* Theresa: *steps forward now the Garrett's other side, looking down at Garrett's eyes for a moment saying in a soft, but stern murmur as she brings a belt up to his mouth* If you have to bite--bite on this. Okay? *she hardly waits for his agreement, simply lying the belt between his lips and then shuffles down to his abdomen, looking at Evelyn, knowing she won't want to move, saying just as firmly* Keep pressure. Evelyn: *only nods, her free hand rubbing another fresh wave of tears from her eye, clearing with determination to help* Theresa: *immediately leans forward, muttering a spell to first repair the cracked rib, waiting a moment for him to breathe again, and then starting to half-sing a low incantation, first cutting through the bandages and into the wound, ignoring the splattering of blood on her cheeks and hands, moving Evelyn's hand to the proper location and having her keep pressing, looking in and hissing at the multiple broken veins and arteries, keeping her mind as clear as she possibly can. Moving her wand now in a swaying pattern, she murmurs the spell stronger, trying to ignore the sounds coming from Garrett, sewing together as quickly as she could, swallowing tightly as she finishes. She gasps out in a breath as the spell ends before she moves to close his outer skin as well, bandaging quickly, throwing off the table the ruined, blood-soaked gauzes and replacing them firmly bound, pressing more gauze on top, closing the wounds--thankful for a moment that these close. As she pulls back, breathing heavily and wiping blood from her hand on the towel, she realizes she has no idea how long it had taken, or if Garrett had remained conscious, for she's swiftly turning to look for a Blood Replenishment potion, knowing that from here he has to recover himself; that she'd done all she could* Evelyn: *the entire time Theresa had worked--which might have been hours for all she knew--she kept her hands where Theresa put them, her eyes firmly on Garrett's face, her free hand still brushing hair from his eyes--murmuring softly in his ear, promising her love, her always, though she hardly knows what she's saying she means every word, too lost in worry and fear to do anything else but hold his hand and pull back as Theresa goes for a potion, now murmuring softly* It's over.

#excerpt #garrett brackner #george stuart #oliver stuart #evelyn brackner #theresa baker #finale #i'll just curl up in a ball and sob now

1 note · View note

fyrowecca · 13 years

Text

(the faye siblings three)

Damocles: *sitting in the study, his back turned as he's dismissed the council, breathing steadily and looks up as he sees Evelyn & Abira entering the room*

Abira: *quietly* You're doing well.

Damocles: *turns, his lips pressing together for a moment, chuckling dryly under his breath* You both seeking an audience with your Lord or brother?

Evelyn: *light chuckle* Actually my lord had us summoned.

Damocles: *blinks, as he'd forgotten and then smirks* Oh I did, yeah.

Evelyn: *teasing* Should we curtsy, little brother?

Damocles: I should think falling prostrate to the ground is enough, really. *chuckles*

Evelyn: Falling is not particularly good for the baby, but if my lord insists--

Abira: *amused as she's sitting down* Good to know some things don't change.

Evelyn: *sitting as well, a tiny sad smile in place* Abira's right though; you are doing well.

Damocles: *sighs and shakes his head as he leans against the chair* I...am grasping.

Abira: That was always how it was going to be. What matters is you keep your head straight and stay aware of your priorities, and that you try.

Evelyn: *adds with a grin* And that you don't get drunk with power and keep your ego in check.

Damocles: *lips twitch, arms folded on his chest* So, no chance there then.

Evelyn: No chance.

Abira: Oh, none.

All Three: *break off into bitter laughter, smiling at each other and shaking their heads*

Abira: *quietly* Have you heard--

Damocles: *shakes head* Nothing. She seems to have vanished, for the time being. We will find her, but it will take time.

Abira: *nods, frustrated* I nearly had her--if Marcus hadn't appeared--

Evelyn: *firm* You have your life still.

Damocles: *leaning over the table, and nods* Evelyn's right. *quieter* But I wanted to talk of something else, though related, to be sure.

Abira: *had muttered, but now stills and exhales, saying quietly* Right.

Evelyn: *lips twitch and says dryly again* Yes, my lord, why did you summon us?

Damocles: *wry* That, actually. Look we might be inclined to joke about that, but legally speaking--

Evelyn: *firmly* We know. I apologize.

Damocles: Well, in that case I only have one question. *waits while they nod* Do, the two of you, trust me?

Abira: *startles a bit, exchanging a look with Evelyn before looking back, both saying firmly* Yes.

Evelyn: Of course.

Damocles: *arching an eyebrow* Do you really? Then I am simply at a loss. You both kept a rather important secret from me, a rather important part of your life and in both cases there were fatalities. You cannot do that again. I need to know you won't, do that to me again.

Evelyn: *quietly* ...George did what he had to do.

Damocles: He should never have been in that position in the first place!

Evelyn: I did not want him arrested--that was Reynold!! I did not mean--

Damocles: Had you told me the truth, I could have secured his release and kept it in confidence--

Evelyn: And how exactly were you going to do that--you don't think Father would have taken action against Garrett instead if I offered proof?!

Damocles: *eyes narrow* Considering he is complicit-

Evelyn: *over him* And Reynold might have attacked him a different way--Damocles, it was not the fact that I refused to tell you it was Garrett that killed Reynold. It wasn't down to you. *pause and says quietly* In all honesty, he killed himself.

Damocles: *exhasperated sigh* There was a situation about which you intentionally left me ignorant--that, is what I am talking about. I am not blaming you for his death. It wasn't your fault either, but--

Evelyn: *frowns* You cannot think Reynold was innocent.

Damocles: *sighs and says quietly* ...until the moment he struck you, he was guilty of nothing but signing a marriage certificate.

Evelyn: And adultery himself. *dryly* I notice everyone forgets that because naturally, for him it's expected. Not to mention neglect, and his horrible treatment of his daughters.

Damocles: *quietly* Evelyn-

Abira: *over him now, pointedly* You knew he hit--

Evelyn: *winces slightly* That...is in the past, please. It was just once.

Damocles: *exhales* When?

Evelyn: ...when you were rescuing Maeve.

Damocles: ...and you kept that a secret as well?

Evelyn: *mutters* It was just a bruise.

Abira: *annoyed* It was not just a bruise-

Evelyn: Garrett would have killed him--

Damocles: *voice rising* He'd have had to wait til I did so first-

Evelyn: Which is why I didn't tell you. *flatly* I am not a fan of murder, and I was fine.

Damocles: You should have told me--Evelyn, I need to know if you are in danger! You should--you have to tell me.

Evelyn: Fantastic, m'lord, should I tell you every time Garrett and I shag? This morning was particularly--

Abira: --Evelyn.

Damocles: This morning-

Evelyn: *lips flick suddenly into a grin* ...well.

Damocles: *rolls his eyes and then sighs* You didn't tell me, because you wanted to protect me. Yes?

Evelyn: *quietly* ...and because I feared for Garrett...

Damocles: You thought I would harm him?

Evelyn: Excuse me, but did you not punch him and threaten to send him to Russia?

Damocles: *pauses, having suddenly smirked* ...did I?

Evelyn: *exasperated* Oh, yes, clearly I was wrong.

Damocles: *exhales and shakes his head, decidedly moving on* I, will trust you, not to waste my time, not to inform on those who ought to be protected. But I need you not to protect me. I need you, to trust that I am someone you can talk, to Evelyn, that you believe wants whats best for you--

Evelyn: *quietly* I do believe that.

Damocles: I can't protect anyone, if you're worried about protecting me from an inconvenient truth. *looks at Abira, his jawline hard for a moment as he exhales* You knew about Claudia.

Abira: *crossly* Not initially. Rowland had already smuggled Rebecca into the manor when I figured it out--

Evelyn: And you knew Marcus was a vampire--how could you not tell us that?!

Abira: *eyes shut for a moment* ...because I didn't know until he was already in the house either. It wasn't a choice of dealing with him as if we were keeping a man from invading..he'd invaded! It was about...sparking a revolution, and I didn't yet know the extent of his threats and defenses--did you know there was a maid he--

Damocles: *exhale* Jude told me.

Abira: --yes, well, I could not risk immediately him being aware I knew. Not until I knew more.

Evelyn: I could have at least warned Leah to stay away from him! *beat, as Abira had bitten her lip* ...admittedly that would only make Leah more curious.

Damocles: *lips twitch and he shakes his head as they laugh bitterly again before saying stubbornly* Vampires aren't invincible.

Abira: No. Only extremely hard to kill.

Evelyn: He could have murdered us in our sleep--

Abira: He was watching me! I saw him everywhere! *frowns* In a house filled with my family, where he might kill anyone to keep my silence--

Damocles: *quietly* You were scared.

Abira: *frowns* Well. *beat* ..yes. He...hadn't made a move according to Rowland, he had a very steady food source, I though I had to insure first simply not to piss him off--then, once I knew all I could know, then I would tell you both, and I planned too. *pauses and adds to Evelyn* And I did...try, to tell you to be careful of them.

Evelyn: ...*sighs* Yes. But it might have helped if you were a little more explicit.

Abira: Honestly, I'd have told you both even if you hadn't caught Rebecca.

Damocles: Then why didn't you tell me immediately?!

Abira: What could you have done?! *frowns* You went to father immediately, and the thing is...Claudia knew about...me, Damocles, it would have resulted in my execution.

Evelyn: *startles* What-

Damocles: *cuts her off* ..yes. *quietly* In the future, however, such a threat won't work. *firm* Evelyn, I know you're letting Leah train at swords and archery, and obviously I know you are now pregnant with Garrett's child while unmarried--no harm, will come to them. Abira, I know you tutor muggleborns and that Row--

Abira: *snaps/startled* Damocles!

Evelyn: *her jaw had dropped* What?! *eyes snap to Abira* ...you do what?

Damocles: *bites his lip* ..ah.

Evelyn: That Rowland--*blink* He is? He is...he has magic?

Abira: *aggravated/dry* Fantastic, Damocles, are you going to tell everyone? You might not arrest me or him, but enough pissed off Lords and they'll kill us both.

Damocles: *equally annoyed* No, I wasn't planning on telling anyone, that was my point--I was pointing out to you that I will not be enforcing that law.

Evelyn: *quietly, blinking* You aren't?

Damocles: No! *snaps and then looks at Evelyn* And if you tell anyone--

Evelyn: I understand. *her mind still blown, eyes fluttering between them* I--but...

Abira: Eve. *quiet* I can answer any question you want.

Evelyn: Well then, let's start with the obvious one--how did he come by magic?

Abira: *simultaneously with Damocles* He was born with it.

Damocles: That's the obvious one, is it?

Abira: *shoots him a look* Oh like you didn't ask the exact same thing--

Evelyn: But-

Damocles: *over them both* Look. *looks pleadingly between them* Evelyn, you aren't wrong, you should never have been forced to marry Reynold. And Abira, John was innocent. As--*looks with narrowed eyes at Evelyn, who is still blinking* --is Rowland. *breathes out* I need you both on my side. I am being honest with you--entirely, completely honest, I need you to do the same. I want to change things, I want to work to fix things, and I can't do that alone! I need you to trust me, I need to know you won't lie to protect me, from something I need to know, and I can promise you I won't hurt anyone who is innocent! I need you to promise. Can I count on you, or not?

*there is a very long pause; Evelyn still looks wrong-footed and utterly stunned and Abira nods slowly*

Evelyn: *finally* ...yes. *blinks* And I won't tell anyways.

Abira: *quiet* You're right, Damocles. *eyes on her sister* ...thank you, Evelyn.

Evelyn: *is rubbing her forehead, but she nods*

Damocles: *with a long exhale of relief* ...thank you.

Abira: *nods, and now with a tiny smile, tilting her head* ...you look like Father, you know.

Damocles: *with a tiny smile himself, as Evelyn suddenly smiles in agreement* ...well I hope to be... kinder. Less feared. To..learn from him. *long pause and says quietly, still smiling* ...but thank you.

#excerpt #damocles faye (2)#evelyn brackner #abira faye

1 note · View note