[identity profile] kateohara.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] estdeus_innobis
Friday, about 5pm

It's another dreary day, which has suited my mood. My conversation with Glass gave me a lot to think about. I talked to Tess a little about Wanda's baby, but I want to think about it more before I suggest anything we might do to protect ourselves - and it. From what I know of how the Devil fell, It chose to turn away from God. It chose evil over good - but it was a free choice that could have gone another way. It was once the brightest of all those who loved God. Mightn't this child - he or she or it, whatever it is - be able to make the same choice? Mightn't it be able to choose differently than its father did, and that its mother did? I hope so. I hope. So I'll keep thinking about what might be done, and then decide who to talk to about it. I don't think we have much time.

Thinking of Wanda's pregnancy makes me think, more prosaically, of Glass. It's funny how her troubles weigh with me as heavily as those Wanda could bring us all. Maybe it's selfish of me - I should be more worried about what Wanda's pregnancy could do to this town. But I might be able to do Glass some good, and that's a practical sort of comfort amidst all these - metaphysical concerns. I'll speak to Dorian, I've decided. I dread the idea of it after everything that happened between us, but he's obviously too much of a coward to face Glass, and she needs him. And if him avoiding her has anything to do with what happened between us, I want to find out and to put things right.

Because I know I'll be seeing Dorian later, I get dressed quite carefully this morning. I don't care if he likes how I look, but I know he'll be snide about it if I'm not dressed well. He'll probably be snide anyway, but I hardly want to give him ammunition. My navy coat dress is a good choice, I think - it suits my shape, but it's too businesslike for him to think I'm trying to attract his attention, which I certainly am not.

When five o'clock comes I shut up the shop, and after refreshing my lipstick I walk purposefully down Main Street and then Silk Road to his store. I know his opening hours are erratic, but hopefully I will find him.

I push open the door, hearing the bell chime, and wait to see if anyone will come out.

[OPEN to DORIAN]
[closed]

Date: 2010-09-11 07:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
It's a wonder how quickly time can slip past when you aren't looking. Weeds overtake gardens you remember planting just yesterday; foundations crumble, images fade...

And I'm suddenly thinking of Glass, as I move about the kitchen, wondering how big she's gotten though it really hasn't been so long since I've seen her. It certainly won't be long before she's truly showing, and no time at all after that until the baby truly starts moving, kicking. The child isn't mine, of course, and yet no matter how many times I remind myself of that fact, I can't stop my mind from wandering towards her, Iago, the child growing in her belly that will look of them but perhaps, yes perhaps, call me daddy.

"Fuck," I all but shout as the chiming over the outer door brings me back to the boiling water I wasn't minding. It's spilled over and I'm just standing there for a moment, annoyed over so many things that have nothing to do with the already healed burn on my hand, before I finally pull myself away enough to shout out of the bedroom. "Just one moment!"

A little dinner before heading God knows where, that's all I was after, and it's just another symptom of my over-worked mind, that's what I convince myself after tossing the pot in the sink. I have too much on me right now, that's why I'm so easily distracted. Too much stress, too many thoughts really; all the more reason to take a break, perhaps head back to the carnival once I've eaten and crack into that bottle of whiskey I was eying this morning. I know I can't stay there indefinitely, my welcome will wear eventually, but a few more days. Yes, just a few more days of peace and quiet and black-out drunkenness, that's all I need.

First, there's the customer to deal with. It's my own fault, really, as I forgot to flip the sign to closed and sent Winnie off on an errand besides. It won't kill me to do a little work, though. Well, at least it won't stick. Never does.

"All right, then," I say, forcing a bit of cheer into my smile as I come from the bedroom, still wiping my hands. "How can I-" The effort was wasted, I soon see, with the smile vanishing at the sight of the woman at the door. I should be sharp, I would love to give in to that urge, but for all the cutting words that come to mind, none of them want to come out. It seems that my mind has gone a little fuzzy, some thankfully forgotten memory teasing at the back. A few blinks, trying to find something to say, before I can finally latch onto anything at all. "You have my watch..."

Date: 2010-09-15 01:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
“Is she now?” I say, easing into the room and doing all I can to keep my voice steady, my face blank. It’s nothing I didn’t know before, of course, and that should help - though it doesn’t. After all, it’s one thing to know something and it’s something else entirely to hear it from someone else. To hear it from Kate? Well, I have had better interruptions to my supper plans.

“Is that why you’re here?” A sigh and I’ve rounded the counter, off to the side. It’s all under some guise of tidying up, straightening a few papers by the register and brushing aside a few stray fleck of dust, though I doubt the attempt is fooling anyone. “Oh, Kate,” I realize a moment too late that I‘ve called her by her first name. There‘s nothing to do but press on as though nothing happened, of course. “I would say meddling was beneath you, but we both know that’s not the case.” I look her way, finally it seems like, after a long while of doing anything but. “It’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Date: 2010-09-16 09:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
She's doing her very best to look grave which, I must say, is rather spot on. All that practice, I suppose. For my part, I'm doing my personal best to not look at her at all - those eyes are quite cutting when they want to be - instead still piddling about the shop, as though I haven't a concern in the world. Because I don't. None. At. All. "First of all, and I'll repeat it until I'm blue in the face, how I feel about Glass or Iago or anyone for that matter is none of your business." I do glance up, for just a moment. "No matter how much you wish it were."

The shop is something past clean, Winnie obviously still doing her job well, and so there isn't much for me to do to busy myself, beyond dust already clean counters with an off-hand, tidy various knickknacks an inch or two to this side or that. "As for Glass being unhappy... She knows how I feel about her. And I've yet to give her a reason to think otherwise. If she tells you different, then it's nothing she's talked to me about." Hmm, those scissors look out of place, don't they?

Date: 2010-09-18 09:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
"Oh, for goodness sake," she says, the air going a few degrees colder for the tone she takes. I'd like to keep cleaning, really it needs to be done, but that alone stops me in my tracks, some just found rag dangling in my fingers. "Anyone who cares about her can tell she's not alright. She hasn't been complaining about you. Glass isn't like that. But it's obvious her feelings are hurt."

"Obvious? Yes, so very obvious that only you can see it?" I roll my eyes and let her continue, because I really don't have much choice in the matter. "And I don't think she does know how you feel. How can she when you keep avoiding her?"

"I am not avoiding her," comes out rather quickly, rag tossed on the counter with a heavy hand. "I saw her just the other day. Perhaps you should rethink your definitions. Obvious, avoiding..." All right, I'm nitpicking, stalling for whatever reason. Damn it. I pause, shake my head, and try a more direct approach. "She's not unhappy, she's pregnant. She's bound to be a little touchy."

Date: 2010-09-22 06:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
"She's pregnant, yes. And don't you think she's worried about why a man who might be - who might be the father of her child is doing his best not to spend any time with her?" I'm opening my mouth to speak, partially because I have seen her, perhaps mostly because I'm getting rather tired of this paternity thing and it's a convenient distraction for it, but of course Kate's there before I am. "Oh, I know you've seen her. Having some smiling conversation doesn't count as spending time with her and you know it. And believe me, I wouldn't be here if I wasn't truly worried." I roll my eyes, I can't help it. "Do you do anything aside from worrying?" I ask, head cocked to the side. "Really. Just curious."

"Dorian," she says then, and it stops me for all the wrong reasons, I think. "Don't be unkind to her. Please." I'm sitting after that, poised on a stool with the counter thankfully between us. This is not a conversation I want to have, not now and probably not ever. Coming from me, that's a considerable amount of time. "Oh yes, I have been so very unkind. Prepared to care for a child that isn't mine when her husband decided to forget her, removing said husband's murderous father for trying to kill her, draining my own accounts to make sure they should want for nothing..." I shake my head. "I am a very unkind man, Kate, but not in this."

Date: 2010-09-23 12:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dorian-excolo.livejournal.com
"Then why? Is it - Iago you've tired of, maybe? And you don't want to hurt Glass by telling her?" None of her business, none at all, and I still find myself shaking my head in answer. "Iago? No. Iago's... Family." There's much more to it, of course, so much more, but that at least stays inside, bottled up with everything else until my name is on her lips and- "I don't think you're unkind by nature."

I'm frozen then, watching with what I hope is the blankest of expressions as she pulls out my pocket watch, places it in my palm. ""I haven't forgotten how kind you were to me." There's a crash - the stool tumbling to the floor - and I'm back a step, looking at my hand as though the watch was suddenly something poisonous. No. No. Her. I look up again, something odd stuck in my throat. "Whatever you think you know about me is a lie," I say and thank God there's conviction behind it. "A lie that's long since dead."

I take a breath, I need a drink but I settle for a breath, shoving the watch in my pocket as though that would be the end of it. "Speaking of running a business, I have some of that to do myself." Ignoring, of course, that it's closing time. "It was very kind-" Damn it. "Very nice of you to return the watch. I'll be sure to send something by Winnie next time she's out on errands. For your housewarming." At that I look at the door, hoping she'll just take the hint. Because if she doesn't... I have no idea what I'll do.
Edited Date: 2010-09-23 12:51 am (UTC)

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