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

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

Laurence is already affected by the alcohol; he's got a note of brightness in his voice I have heard in many men before. I wonder how long he has been here. And thinking on it, I don't think I have ever seen Laurence drink alcohol before. He always seems to choose the soft drinks at parties... Hm.

Sister Julia holds out her hand and I shake it. She has a bright, sunny look to her, and an easy charm as she says:

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Laclos. A few of our congregation have talked about The Whitechapel and the rooms there; I hear are beautiful since your remodeling.”

I smile back at her.

"Thank you. I think the place is getting rather nicer, although I would still not recommend it as a place for a quiet drink," I grin. "I just came to borrow some glasses," I say, gesturing to the box under my arm. "We ran short." No need to tell her how we've run short. "I don't think I've seen you in the tavern before, Laurence," I observe. "Hard day?"

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

I pause a moment and look at him, then shake my head a little to clear it.

"You could say that," I tell him as if it doesn't matter even half as much as it does and consider begging him not to tell Kate, but she doesn't care so why should I? "Yeah." Don't know how to move the conversation on, get past that, so I just fight the frown that wants to come on and sit back, trying to show as much relaxation as I can.

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

"You could say that," says Laurence, in the manner of someone trying not to sound unhappy. I sit down on the barstool next to him and put the box of glasses on the bar for the moment.

"Well," I say. "Having heard that tone a few times in my life, I would say that something has gone wrong, and usually if it sends a man to a bar he is unhappy in love, his work, or his philosophy." I have a feeling that either Laurence is having a crisis of faith, or little Miss O'Hara has up and left him. Not many things give a man quite that look, and I doubt working at the smithy is the cause.

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

My lips twitch and my strength isn't enough to keep them from doing it, so I pick up my glass and take just a sip this time.

"One out of three is bad enough," I say with an ironic smile. "And only one of us was ever in love in the first place," I mutter to the whiskey, though I'm sure they can both hear it. I don't really care, anyway. People will figure it out soon enough, anyway. Gossip spreads like wildfire in this town. My heart squeezes painfully at the thought of her parting kiss, of her walking away from me and out the door. I deserved it. But it doesn't mean I have to remember it. With a simple motion, I tilt my head back and finish the second glass.

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

I love over at Julia to see if she wants to intervene, but since she hardly knows Laurence, perhaps not.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, and truly I am. They seemed an unlikely pair, but no doubt a few of the town gossips were surprised when Hermia and I started seeing each other. "Love is a tricky thing," I say. I think having a few drinks in the immediate aftermath of a breakup seems like quite a sensible thing, but I am a little concerned about how long it's been since Laurence has had alcohol. For one thing, if he passes out, it would enormously difficult to get him home, seeing how big he is. "You should be careful," I say. "A couple of drinks can warm the heart, but too many usually end up making you feel sadder if you're sad already." I pat him on the shoulder.

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

Valmont pats my shoulder and I laugh a little. He's trying to be helpful, yes, but he's not. 'Love is tricky?' What good is that nonsense? Am I not worthy of it, then, not intelligent or clever enough?

"I'm very familiar with its effects," I say and look over at him. "Thank you." There's a hesitation in my thoughts then, before I add, "I'd appreciate it is she didn't find out. She wouldn't like it," I explain even though the thought of her at all pains me greatly. I look over to Julia and wonder if I should ask the same favour. "God will provide, eh?" With a subtle movement I signal the bartender again.

[valmont-vicomte.livejournal.com]

Ah, I recognise this stage of drunkenness. I don't believe Laurence and I will have much more of a useful conversation - he's feeling rather irritable. No doubt with good cause.

"I'd appreciate it is she didn't find out. She wouldn't like it," he says. I stand up and heft the box, putting it under my arm.

"I find," I say, "that if we're worried about someone we love finding out about something we're doing, it's probably not a good idea." I give him a shallow bow. "If you'll forgive the impertinence of that observation." I straighten up. "Good to meet you, Sister. I'd best get back to my inn."

"God will provide, eh?"

I'm not altogether sure I believe in Laurence's god, but I suppose he might exist as well as any other, so I simply say:

"I think God has usually already provided us with the means of our own salvation. It's up to us if we make use of them. Goodnight, Laurence, Julia."

[julia-marshal.livejournal.com]

For a moment I sit and listen, trying to look any which way except for the two men by me. The longing to slide to the floor and away from this talk of heartache is almost overwhelming. I’m afraid that currently I’ve made everything worse, and can only give a half hearted smile as Valmont bids the two of us good night.

And Laurence gives the sign for drink three.

My lips part slightly to tell him to slow down, but seeing as he’s just heard the same from someone he knows far better than me I snap my mouth silent.

Blue eyes that I’ve seen so many times in the mirror glace toward the door, and then back at the companion I’ve tried to help. He seems easier now, but perhaps that isn’t the word, maybe the word I am looking for is sloppy.

It would be a lie to say I’m not worried about him. Maybe that’s why I stay instead of slipping out of the bar, like I want to. I don’t have anything to say really, so I just watch him with guarded eyes for several long seconds. He’s had his heart trampled on; there is no way I can leave him in this state…in this place.

“Laurence?” Finally my voice cuts the pause between us.

“Why don’t you let me take you home?” I give him a smile, since I am a stranger and currently am interrupting all of his plans. But this isn’t the place for him; he’d do better to sleep off tonight.

What is that saying?

‘Get it right today, and you may still be here tomorrow.’

I think that’s oddly fitting for Laurence at the moment.

[brotherlaurence.livejournal.com]

The third is gone and the numbness coming upon me strong.

"Laurence?" Julia asks, sounding unsure. Some hooker, not comfortable around a drunk man. Not drunk. Maybe that's why she pretends to be a nun. “Why don’t you let me take you home?” There's a smile on her face, but it holds no promise of what's to come. Maybe, maybe maybemaybemaybemaybemaybeKate.

Maybe Katie. What would she think? Then I don't care, because there's flesh so close and so friendly and really what have I am I nothing.

I nod slowly and move to a stand, bracing myself against the bar and stool.

"Sure."