Once bitten, twice shy

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

[Late Monday morning]
[May 3rd, Day 337]
[The Miskatonic Café]


It gets harder to leave every time I wake up in Verdi’s bed, though this morning that was partly because one ankle was still mostly tied to the bedpost. I had it untied by the time she came out of the shower, although it took quite a bit of kissing to convince her she shouldn’t tie me right back up. I managed it in the end, though, and she let me have my turn in the shower.

After I finished and was collecting my clothes, she did say she wouldn’t mind having me hang around the Tavern until I had to go to work, and someday I might, but today I made my excuses and got dress and went down the stairs. Until things are worked out all the way with Ri, I’m holding myself to having fun with Verdi once in a while, but not anything that’d look like I’ve just exchanged living with her for living with Ri.

It’s a nice day, but the sun seems just a little too bright, what with amount of drink I had last night and the sleep I didn't, so I duck into the café for some coffee to clear my head. Sitting down feels a little better than walking, though not by much. Almost regret how used Verdi’s gotten to my belt. Oh, goddess. And smile into my mug. Might take my time here, and then go see about something I’m planning for Ri before work.


[OPEN to Iago]
[CLOSED]

Once bitten, twice shy

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

[Late Monday morning]
[May 3rd, Day 337]
[The Miskatonic Café]


It gets harder to leave every time I wake up in Verdi’s bed, though this morning that was partly because one ankle was still mostly tied to the bedpost. I had it untied by the time she came out of the shower, although it took quite a bit of kissing to convince her she shouldn’t tie me right back up. I managed it in the end, though, and she let me have my turn in the shower.

After I finished and was collecting my clothes, she did say she wouldn’t mind having me hang around the Tavern until I had to go to work, and someday I might, but today I made my excuses and got dress and went down the stairs. Until things are worked out all the way with Ri, I’m holding myself to having fun with Verdi once in a while, but not anything that’d look like I’ve just exchanged living with her for living with Ri.

It’s a nice day, but the sun seems just a little too bright, what with amount of drink I had last night and the sleep I didn't, so I duck into the café for some coffee to clear my head. Sitting down feels a little better than walking, though not by much. Almost regret how used Verdi’s gotten to my belt. Oh, goddess. And smile into my mug. Might take my time here, and then go see about something I’m planning for Ri before work.


[OPEN to Iago]
[CLOSED]

(no subject)

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

“When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay.”

Monday, 3 May, afternoon
The Carnival

It has been some time since I wore this little child's body, a pretty empty vessel. I find some relief in it, the shell of it like a vase. Its flesh does not tug at me so. Inside the body there is a coolness like clear water. It wears a prairie dress, clearly made at home, and scuffed brown leather shoes with tarnished buckles. Its knees are scraped and its hair tousled. It walks out to the carnival and buys a caramel apple so its face is soon smeared with sugar. It is in all ways a sweet looking thing, and I remember its casual cruelty to the priest Laurence and smile to myself. It skips through the carnival, half-eaten apple in hand, and I look out for those who can be hurt by truths.

[OPEN]

(no subject)

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

“When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell. That is why we dread children, even if we love them, they show us the state of our decay.”

Monday, 3 May, afternoon
The Carnival

It has been some time since I wore this little child's body, a pretty empty vessel. I find some relief in it, the shell of it like a vase. Its flesh does not tug at me so. Inside the body there is a coolness like clear water. It wears a prairie dress, clearly made at home, and scuffed brown leather shoes with tarnished buckles. Its knees are scraped and its hair tousled. It walks out to the carnival and buys a caramel apple so its face is soon smeared with sugar. It is in all ways a sweet looking thing, and I remember its casual cruelty to the priest Laurence and smile to myself. It skips through the carnival, half-eaten apple in hand, and I look out for those who can be hurt by truths.

[OPEN]