My debt to you, Belovèd, is one I cannot pay in any coin of any realm on any reckoning day.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

[Thursday morning]
[April 22th (day 326)]
[Verite’s apartment over the salon]

I’ve spent nearly every night for the past week at the ‘Boy, except for Friday, when it was so busy at the Whitechapel that it was all I could do to stagger in at half past three to curl up next to Ri until noon, and Monday, when I came in worse for most of a bottle of port. She’s been so sweet about all this, saying she understands about Miao and that I want to help, but I want to make sure she stays happy. And I’m starting to feel like I’m taking her hospitality for granted. Miao pays me, and I’m trying to do my duty by her, but Ri’s taken me in out of the goodness of her heart and asked nothing of me but what I wanted to do. Need to make sure she knows I’m grateful for it, and that I have the good sense to repay her.

Which is why I’m in her kitchen making pancakes at six in the morning, mostly awake because I had a shower at the ‘Boy before I came over here and I’m finishing my second cup of coffee. The shortage of sleep will hit me this afternoon, but I can maybe have a nap before work. I get the pancakes done and start on the eggs, thinking about how long it’s been since I made anyone breakfast, including myself. Tarquin was the early riser, and not a bad cook with simple things. Really, really don’t want to think about Tarquin now.

The eggs are done, so I start making up a plate and set it a tray with rhubarb jam and butter and milk and coffee. Still not hungry in the mornings, even though I can afford to be now. Hope she won’t mind that I don’t plan to eat with her. Hope to hell she likes pancakes and eggs over easy. I get the tray up, a little wobbly though none of it spills. Been too long since I waited tables. The stairs are tricky but nothing spills, and I manage to get the door open quietly.

She’s still asleep, curled up on her side with one arm hanging off the bed. My stomach turns over at the sight of her, green hair all over the pillow and one foot uncovered. Wish I’d been here last night. I set the tray down on the bedside table and sit on the bed beside her. I just look at her for a little bit, because she’s pretty in a way that’s all her own and she looks so sweet sleeping, and then I stroke her hair behind her ear and bend down to kiss her cheek. “You feel like waking up now, sweetheart?” Don’t quite whisper it, but make it just loud enough that it might wake her without annoying her.

[OPEN to Ri]
[CLOSED]

Comments

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

Jarmyn starts putting his boots on so I guess he's probably going to leave. And the thought hurts cuz it's my fault. But I can't- I don't think I can stand to keep going. I need to be alone for awhile. His words show me I was right; he is thinkin' a going. If you want me gone, I'll go, He says real quiet.

Now he's the one won't look. I find myself blinking when he asksCan I come back tomorrow, or is this for good? I feel...I don't know what I feel actually. I want him gone right now but I don't want him gone for good. I want...I dunno. Maybe I want to explain. Or something. Instead of sayin' it, I just wave a hand in his direction and put the pile of clothes on the bed. "Yeah. Course you can come back. I just need some space is all."

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

She’s saying I can come back, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find the door locked. Still, I’ve got my knives and my cash and a change of clothes at the ‘Boy. If this is the end of me and her, I can manage. Makes me feel sick to think about it, but I could. I don’t want to, and I hope she won’t make me. I finish with my boots and stand up, trying to come up with something to say. She’s just standing there fidgeting.

“Look, Verite.” That’s not much of a start. I run a hand through my hair while I think about what the hell I can say that won’t make things worse. “I got into this town with my pockets empty, praying like hell for a good year. And—and you made it a good year. So far.” I close my eyes a minute. Not going to beg. Can’t make an idiot out of myself now.

The breakfast tray on the nightstand catches my eye, so I move to pick it up and start gathering the dishes. Might as well take care of them on my way out.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

I'm running out of useful things to do while iwait for him to leave so I just do fidgety stuff like laying out the shirt just so and then adding the bra on top of it and then moving it. I look up when he says my name, I wait but he doesn't say anything for a long moment just runs his hand into his hair. Then he picks back up,I got into this town with my pockets empty, praying like hell for a good year. And—and you made it a good year. So far. I open my mouth but I have no idea what to say to that. Not sure I should be offended or not. He closes his eyes then opens them. Know what he's going for right after he moves. Oh no! He shouldn't have to do that! I take a couple step over and say, "You c'n leave that. I'll deal with it." I grab the coffee and finish it. I didn't mean to sound so sharp, but I just want him to go. Now.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

She doesn’t say anything back when I finish talking, but her face doesn’t soften any. Didn’t help, then, I guess. Maybe made things worse, because when I reach for the dishes she snaps at me to leave them. I think for a minute about arguing with her, but I just don’t think I can stand to any more. My heart hurts, and I need to get out, go for a walk, have some more coffee, anything. She won’t even look at me still.

But she said I could come back, and I’m holding on to that. Find my hand’s in my hair again. I feel like begging, like offering her the world if she’ll only tell me what the hell is wrong, what I can do to make it right, but I’m thinking she doesn’t want to hear anything else from me. So I just take my hand down and nod once to her. Feels wrong to go out without kissing her goodbye, but she wouldn’t let me do anything of the kind, so I just go out and down the stairs. The sun’s too bright outside, but I don’t feel like being inside, so I duck my head and just head down the street. Might go out of town and see Arkady. Might just keep walking.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

We stand there for an endless moment and then he moves. Good, he's going.

Finally!

Once he's gone and I can't hear his footsteps anymore, I sag onto the bed, my hands covering my face as I let the tears slip through my fingers.