I wish I could forget it but the begger never rides his horse.

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

Night of Monday, September Fourteenth

I got dressed, a sinking feeling in my gut once all the tears've gone, and drank water. Only an idiot would do what I'm doing dehydrated.

Only an idiot would do it at all.

I sit at the bar and nod to the bartender, who brings me a whiskey neat when I ask and I pay him for it plus a good tip, trying my best not to look miserable or too much like a man whose not had a drink in ten years. I look at the liquid in my glass a moment and don't think of the brothel merely feet away.


[OPEN.]
[CLOSED.]

Comments

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

My lips move into a smile and a small laugh comes out. Julia is on edge and for once it's nice to not care one way or the other.

"If I answer yours, will you answer mine?" I ask, and then after a pause, I do it without really waiting for a response. "Around lunchtime, when my--" I still don't even know what to call her or say or anything, "--when she left me." I give a shrug and pick up my glass again, holding it up as if in a toast. "To better pairings," I say and swallow the whole serving.

Oh, it burns. It burns and stings and in a strange way it feels like home. A lonely, depressing home where everything I get's not really what I want but at least I forget the specifics of the world outside.

[julia-marshal.livejournal.com]

I open my mouth to give a hesitant no, actually I have the feeling I may have gotten in over my head with this. I just wanted to respond with something nice, and here we are.

"Around lunchtime, when my--when she left me."

I give him a soft noise of understanding and nod, still wary of that smile of his and how he’s turned it on me. But he shrugs as I watch him motion the glass toward me, so I pick up my own.

"To better pairings,"

My eyes follow the disappearance of the liquid in his glass with a tinge of regret; I have the feeling that Nanse-Kam or any of the others at the Abbey would have done much better with this sad soul than I have.

It’s a most sobering and sad though, I put my own drink to my lips and even my nostrils burn from the smell. My eyes can’t help but widen as the liquid coats my mouth and scorches my throat; I even give a cough as I put down the glass on the bar with a shutter.

Horrible stuff, but it goes straight to my head.

“To better pairings,” I agree with his toast, my voice rough for a moment.

There is a small pause and I rub my throat before speaking again.

“I’m twenty six.”

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

Discreetly I motion to the bartender for a glass of water for Julia.

"You feeling OK?" I ask gently as I move the glass to her hand. Twenty-six. Blonde. A pale comparison to Kate but enough that it's not lost on me. My throat burns a little with dryness and I swallow hard. "I'm...much older," I say with a laugh.

[julia-marshal.livejournal.com]

I laugh and nod in his direction when he asks me if I’m alright, I even take a sip of the water he presses into my palms with a grateful look.

Whiskey neat. Nice sounding, havoc in a glass as well.

"I'm...much older,"

I give him a shrug and set back down the glass, not really knowing what age has anything to do with anything really. But I want to get back to friendlier conversation, so I go along.

“That’s alright, Laurence. I don’t mind.” My smile is sunnier now that he’s back to not rounding on me abruptly, I feel as though he needs to be watched, like a jungle cat in a cage, so I try not to let that reminder slip away.

“Nanshe, bless me but that stuff you drink is horrible.” I take another drink of the water, deciding to stick with that for the moment. I want to tell him I’m sorry about the girl he’s talking about, but don’t. A little afraid he’ll come at me again with that look of his.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon.” This time there is a laugh from me, the fire down my throat is gone.