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

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

So she cares to be silly with me. All right, I knew that. Just wish she'd do it in other ways. "We were never much for nicknames, my family. Too many J's, with twelve of us kids. And most of them got sensible names." For all my mother had to dig through the Bible for some of them.

Thought I asked her to call me by my name, but maybe she wants me to pick something else. Good God. Close my eyes and try to think. "Been called Jamie before and didn't hate it," I finally offer. Maybe she'll just leave it lie.

Can't stay stuck thinking about things I've been called and didn't like, not with her giggling at me. So that's what it is. Still not sure I'm up for any this morning, but I can joke about it, at least. "You want to remind me?"

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

He talks about how they never had nicknames in his family and I'm not sure if that is really better or not. Much fun can be had with nicknames as a kid. Or even as a adult. I remember what Faith always called Tez. Jarmyn closes his eyes again an'then says, Been called Jamie before and didn't hate it, Hmm, isn't there a Jamie in town somewhere already? I don't think I've met him but I'm sure I've heard of one. Jamie Kincaid! That's it! The family with the bees, the honey and wax and related stuff.

I just shrug and smile. "Maybe not that one, there's already a Jamie in town. Maybe I'll think of something good an' not name related, in the meantime I won't mess with your name anymore."

We go back to teasing and he says, You want to remind me? I smirk at him and then deliberately an' slowly set the plate back on the tray. "Ok." And lean back down to kiss him gently on the mouth.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

Seem to remember a friend of Arkady’s named Jamie, nice-looking fellow who smelled of honey, but I never had much to do with him except that day in the riot. I think that’s the matter of nicknames put away, thank God, and without her even asking after my family. Maybe she’ll forget to think of something else. Still… “Thanks, sweetheart.” And can’t help but sound relieved.

I pretty much know what’s coming when she smirks and sets the plate aside carefully. I reach an arm up and pull her against me when she leans down. The kiss is gentle, and she tastes like jam and coffee. I have missed this, the warm and softness of her, all but bare under the shirt she sleeps in. The way she doesn’t make me do anything I’m not already wanting to. “Oh, God,” I whisper, when I can draw breath, and it’s anything but a blasphemy. “Come here.” I roll a little until I’m mostly facing her, drawing her in as I do. Close feels good right about now. A lot of things may have gone to hell for me in this town, but this hasn’t.

It’s just a hug, a tame thing to trade for all she’s doing for me. It’s mostly because I want it, too, I guess, and it feels good on this morning when I can barely keep my eyes open. “Thank you,” I tell her again. “For this and everything. Don’t know many girls who’d do this for someone they didn’t have a…claim on. You won’t regret it, I promise.” Hope that was the right way to say all that. Just feeling really grateful right about now, is all.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

He thanks me for my promise not to mess with his name anymore with relief in his voice. I guess it really did bother him when I called him that silly nickname.

He reaches up his arm to pull me in as I lean down to him and our kiss is gentle and sweet. Come here He says and rolls over a bit. It brings us closer and I can feel his warmth through the thin material of the shirt that's just about all I'm wearing. It feels really good to be held like this in his arms an' I snuggle in close. I'm a bit disappointed when he starts talking again. Starts off by thanking me. That's starting to get a little old. Don’t know many girls who’d do this for someone they didn’t have a…claim on. You won’t regret it, I promise.

I brush a kiss over his lips, "Shush." I meet his eyes with my own, carding my fingers into his hair. "You don't need to say thank you just about every day, or keep promising I won't regret this. Your actions are enough to show me this. An' I don't care 'bout what other girls might or might not do without a claim to you. I'm doing this because I like you. Really like you."

Think maybe it's a bit more than mere liking by now. But I can't say that word to him.Not right now. I think I kinda want him to say it to me first.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

She nestles into me, and I do my best to fit my legs around hers. Wish I’d undressed some before I got in bed with her. Didn’t know I’d be feeling like this, though. She hushes me with another kiss and starts stroking my hair. Just so nice. More than worth getting up early. Worth anything she wants of me between now and work. And telling her I don’t need to thank her or promise? That what I’m doing’s enough, and that she likes me? I close my eyes again, tight. Oh, this girl.

I roll a little more away from her, taking her with me so more of her weight’s on top of me. She’s not heavy, but it feels good that way. I swallow a couple times, hard. Have to say something. “I’ve done this before,” is what comes out huskily, “the asking room and board of someone for…services rendered. And it was good sometimes.” Sometimes it was really good. “But with you it’s comfortable. You don’t hang on me or prod me or try to make a slave of me. And you’re telling me you like me. Not…not anything more than that.” And I have to swallow again after I’ve finished, and blink a couple times before I can look her in the eye.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

His legs wrap around mine an' he rolls over a bit more so I end up on top of him I'm glad his eyes are closed as otherwise things would be getting a little too intense about now. I like being on top of him though. I think maybe I should tease him for wearing too much but he opens his mouth and starts talking again. I'm probably going to have to kiss him to get him to shut up.

I’ve done this before, the asking room and board of someone for…services rendered. And it was good sometimes. But with you it’s comfortable. You don’t hang on me or prod me or try to make a slave of me. And you’re telling me you like me. Not…not anything more than that. His voice has gone deeper and he's blinking his eyes and swallowing. The air suddenly feels thick and my heart is beating fast. I really really like him. Is he going to say what I think he- what I hope he's going to say?

He looks up and says nothing. I look down and the silence stretches between us getting bigger and deeper. I realize he isn't going to say what I thought he was And am horribly and painfully disappointed. I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I don't want to cry Then the last thing he said starts repeating in my head. “But with you it’s comfortable. You don’t hang on me or prod me or try to make a slave of me. And you’re telling me you like me. Not…not anything more than that. I open my eyes and look down at him a little desperate.

"No you idiot, that wasn't what I was saying. I care about you more than just a bit!" Still can't say it outright. Especially now that i'm sure he doesn't feel the same way about me. And then the rest of what he said hits me. ...room and board of someone for…services rendered

I freeze for a moment and then ask very carefully. "What did you mean, services rendered?"

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

When I finish talking, she just looks at me with her eyes sad and wide and wanting something, And then she’s calling me an idiot and—oh no. Oh, no.

Don’t answer her back then, because I’m still working through what I think she means. And then she asks very quietly and clipped what I mean. She’s gone so still on top of me. Somehow I have fucked up, or she thinks I have. God in heaven, not this ruined too. Please, no. I lick my lips, thinking really hard about what to say, because it has to be absolutely right. Just like the first time I met her. And there it is. “I mean that I didn’t come to you asking you to take me in out of the goodness of your heart because we’re friends. I’m trying to earn my keep here, sweetheart. I know you don’t need a freeloader.”

There, that’s all true, and it’s an explanation, but it’s not very tender, though I try to say it nicely. I think she’s maybe looking for something more. Reach up and touch her cheek with two fingers, hoping she isn’t about to kick me or something. “It’s why I keep saying thank you, and you keep telling me not to. This is so good, and I wouldn’t be in anyone else’s bed now for the world, God’s honest truth.” And it really is. Maybe that’ll be enough for her. It’s what I can say.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

He licks his lips like he's nervous but doesn't answer me right away, I mean that I didn’t come to you asking you to take me in out of the goodness of your heart because we’re friends. I’m trying to earn my keep here, sweetheart. I know you don’t need a freeloader. This isn't what I want to hear and I think it shows because then he reaches up to touch his fingers to my cheek, I move my face away from his hand and sit up. I can still feel his body though so I roll off him and retreat to the edge of the bed, Wrap my arms round my knees. He keeps talking though I almost tell him to shut up, It’s why I keep saying thank you, and you keep telling me not to. This is so good, and I wouldn’t be in anyone else’s bed now for the world, God’s honest truth.

Can feel tears in my eyes and I don't want to break down crying in front of him. I want to be angry and yell. And I want him to yell back so I can stay angry. I blink the tears away and give him my coldest look. "Is it now? And maybe it's also the truth that you plan on taking as much advantage of me as I'm willing to let you. Some friend that would make you!" My voice comes out low and hard and I squeeze my hands into my legs to keep them from shaking. I don't think I believe what I'm saying, it's just something to throw at him to see if he'll try to deny it. I'm angry that what we had was so good like he said and I seem to have fucked it up by wanting too much from him.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

She jerks away when I touch her, sitting up and then rolling off me to scramble all the way to the edge of the bed, where she draws her knees up. Is she scared I’m going to hurt her, after all this time? Breaks my heart, seeing her like that. I sit up myself, back against the headboard with my arms crossed, as far away from her as I can get with both of us still on the bed.

She looks like she’s about to cry, and I don’t know what to do about it. Somehow this is my fault. She’s angry and hurt and she wants to hurt me. Can’t think of much I wouldn’t let her do, if it’d help. “I’d have stayed as long as you wanted me, if that’s what you mean, doing what I could for you. Do you want something more?” I’m pleading with her now. Maybe she wants to argue, but I can’t. Too scared to, really. Scared that she hates me for something, and also that she’ll have me out on my ear. I could sleep at the ‘Boy now, I guess, but as much as I think Miao needs me I want to stay here, with this girl, cooking and laughing and lying in bed together doing whatever she pleases. “Tell me what I can do, and I’ll try my best, but I won’t lie to you. I won’t ever, ever lie to you, Verite.” Surely she must know what her name means.

I pull my own knees up, feeling like punching a wall. “If you want to hit me, you can.” Maybe it’d make her feel better. It certainly would me.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

Glad he doesn't try to touch me or comfort me, he just sits up against the head board and crosses his arms. He looks a bit upset and that gives me a tiny bit of satisfaction but it's not enough. I’d have stayed as long as you wanted me, if that’s what you mean, doing what I could for you. Do you want something more? He's not fighting back. He sounds hurt and maybe sad but not angry. I was hoping he'd say something angry or hurtful back at me so I could stay mad. And I'm trying to come up with something else to say when he adds, Tell me what I can do, and I’ll try my best, but I won’t lie to you. I won’t ever, ever lie to you, Verite

I manage a quick unhappy little snort at that. "Oh like the truth has been so helpful this morning!" I uncurl a bit and look away before muttering, "What I want, I don't think you c'n give me."

He pulls his legs in, looking more upset but I can't tell if he's angry, I can't bear to look directly at his face so I'm only seeing this from the corner of my eye. If you want to hit me, you can. He offers and that pisses me off so I guess I got what I wanted. I narrow my eyes at him and my lip curls. "Is that supposed to make everything better? D'you wanna get hit?"

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

I want more than anything to put my arms around her and hug her tight, but I know she wouldn’t thank me for that. So I just stay where I am and listen to her. Of course the truth hasn’t been helpful. It isn’t helpful very often, but I owed it to her. It hurts when she says I can’t give her what she wants, because I’m terribly afraid she’s right. I want to be able to, though, and there’s no way to prove to her how much.

She’s not meeting my eyes, not even looking at me straight, but I can tell from the way her lip curls that it was the wrong thing to offer to let her hit me. Still, she asked. “If it would make you feel better, I want you to.” I don’t for a minute think she’ll do it just for me, but maybe it would help her get some of the anger out. And it would help me, that’s true. Do I want it? I guess, but I don’t think she’ll do it in a nice way. “Not a lot I wouldn’t do to make you feel better, sweetheart.” God, I sound broken already, but can’t stand seeing her like this and knowing I caused it.

[verite-belrose.livejournal.com]

Doesn't give me a good answer to my question about his stupid offer to let me hit him, just more crap. If it would make you feel better, I want you to Turn my head back so I c'n glare properly at him. "That wasn't the question, you ass!" I snap at him. "I asked if YOU were wantin' me to hit you. If I wanted to hit you, I'd've already done it." Not that he doesn't maybe deserve to get hit for pulling this shit. Except for the guilty little thought about how we're only having this almost argument because I screwed up again, like with Johnny but worse.

And he's still going on, Not a lot I wouldn’t do to make you feel better, sweetheart. Sounds like he wants to skip the fight and head straight to the apoligizin' and makekin' up. I get up off the bed as I have too much energy to just sit there. For something to do with my hands I start sorting through clothes trying to decide what I might wear today. "An' if I told you that it would make me feel better if you got outta my sight?" 'F he wants to get hit so bad, I'm sure he c'n find someone to to do that for him. And if he's not here I could let myself cry. Or maybe I just want to yell and throw a few things without feeling like a kid throwing a tantrum.

[jaeresteade.livejournal.com]

I've never seen her anywhere near this mad, and it scares me. I'm worried for her, for one thing, and for my place here, as well. Also scared for us, if you get right down to it, because we had something good started here, I think.

She gets off the bed hunting clothes, and I keep my mouth shut, thinking really fast. No good ideas come to mind. And then there it is. She does want me out. My stomach twists, making me wish I'd eaten something. I move to the side of the bed and start putting my boots back on.

"If you want me gone, I'll go," I tell her quietly, still bent over my laces and not looking at her. "Can I come back tomorrow, or is this for good?" Maybe I shouldn't ask, but I do really want to come back. To have a chance to make things right once she's cooled down. More than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.

[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.