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glass-beddau.livejournal.com[Early afternoon of Friday, January 15 (day 229)]
[Out in the courtyard at the Tavern of Hell]
Find it odd calming, how a fire can scarce be seen in daylight. Sitting out in the courtyard at the Tavern of Hell, guessing at the shape of the flames as they spit under the thin rain and taking in the gray light of the day and the space that's not all mine. The apartment's lovely, nothing I'd ever 'magined, and my own workroom aside that, but the weight of so much... It's enough t'get drunk on. More'n large enough for two, and fine enough for even three, and what I've guessed at from the little I asked of the matter of the third (Dorian) leaves me turning scarlet still. No misery in Iago when he spoke of it, nor flinching as if he took me for being angry, but...
Well. Truly, it shocks me some, and leaves me wondering what else I've come to in this lost time.
And carrying a child. My mother's bones.
Wearing clothes that I think're new as well as new t'me, trousers with far more fiddling seams than needed and a sweater green as pine in shadow, and a coat Kate made me. I remember the name and'm sure I'd recognize her, but the store was closed when we went 'round town yesterday. Sure I'll see her soon, though, and hope she's not lost overmuch.
Hear Iago aside me and look up and "Stormcrow," I say, and'm smiling at the shape of his name in my mouth. Remember that, and what he told me of a night by the river, and our stopping by there yesterday in the clear dusk, and my smile turns into something for the two of us alone. Lean into him and put my arm 'round his waist and kiss his throat, rest my head in the hollow of his shoulder. Smells of cigarette smoke and the cool leather of his jacket and most of all himself in the silk softness of the rainy air, and there's a steadiness t'being with him like nothing else of late.
[Open]
[Closed]
[Out in the courtyard at the Tavern of Hell]
Find it odd calming, how a fire can scarce be seen in daylight. Sitting out in the courtyard at the Tavern of Hell, guessing at the shape of the flames as they spit under the thin rain and taking in the gray light of the day and the space that's not all mine. The apartment's lovely, nothing I'd ever 'magined, and my own workroom aside that, but the weight of so much... It's enough t'get drunk on. More'n large enough for two, and fine enough for even three, and what I've guessed at from the little I asked of the matter of the third (Dorian) leaves me turning scarlet still. No misery in Iago when he spoke of it, nor flinching as if he took me for being angry, but...
Well. Truly, it shocks me some, and leaves me wondering what else I've come to in this lost time.
And carrying a child. My mother's bones.
Wearing clothes that I think're new as well as new t'me, trousers with far more fiddling seams than needed and a sweater green as pine in shadow, and a coat Kate made me. I remember the name and'm sure I'd recognize her, but the store was closed when we went 'round town yesterday. Sure I'll see her soon, though, and hope she's not lost overmuch.
Hear Iago aside me and look up and "Stormcrow," I say, and'm smiling at the shape of his name in my mouth. Remember that, and what he told me of a night by the river, and our stopping by there yesterday in the clear dusk, and my smile turns into something for the two of us alone. Lean into him and put my arm 'round his waist and kiss his throat, rest my head in the hollow of his shoulder. Smells of cigarette smoke and the cool leather of his jacket and most of all himself in the silk softness of the rainy air, and there's a steadiness t'being with him like nothing else of late.
[Closed]
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