Post by Laurnath on Aug 5, 2020 19:30:09 GMT 10
Day 24
It was early morning, still mostly the night before. I'd managed to find myself a few bottles of elderflower wine from a helpful neighbour who I'd compensated very graciously. More than I should have considering the sugar content. However, I'm writing this with the power of hindsight. I made a mistake. The kind of gut wrenching, world ending choice that I should have known better of.
Living in the cramped threadbare house, I had been sharing Danijel's bed in a very soft and cordial manner. The only way in which he manages to exist. All apologies and quiet musings and pillow barriers for propriety. The problem is my pride. The problem is that I'm not used to resistance, in any manner. What sort of professional can't even get a stray hand in? What sort of faintly romantic liason doesn't have any romance in it?
To my former self, I want to say: Twat, bitch, idiot.
Anyway. Everything I was wearing wasn't managing the quick wipe downs I was giving it and in-the-bath rinses and leaving in front of the fire.
So I strolled into the shared room au naturel. By this point I was still extremely high on my own winning ways. So I leaned against the closed door. Posing with just my confessors chain on. The wide, winding and wild tattoo of a rose and thorns reaching from inner thigh, to under my left breast. Usually hidden for work by my corset. Each sparse leaf had important initials inked into it. Including Danijel's.
I felt his eyes rest on his initials and flutter slightly. He closed the book he was holding and it slid to the floor.
Book, I gave the performance of my lifetime. A boy full of stuttering, stammering and confusion - after several rounds became a demanding and domineering partner. I felt we'd met as a match. I felt as if perhaps I'd awakened something important. I thought I'd done so incredibly well.
As we lay side by side, I turned to look at him with sultry eyes. And he said.
"We can never do this again." He didn't look at me.
"I'm sorry, excuse me?" I stammered.
"Because whatever it is you charge, I can't afford it. You didn't do that for you. You did that for me." He continues calmly. Still not looking.
My stomach feels the blow of truth and misplaced identity. It turns from icy, heat to acid and fear. I don't remember exactly how, but I fled the room and only just made it to the commode. My knees hitting the floor with the unmistakable sound against the stone floor, flesh on freezing flat. I sicked up every single piece of pride and smug enjoyment that I'd been holding in. I let out all of it with racking sobs into the watery depths, the force of it running out of my nose and down my chin.
I hear footsteps behind me, a cool hand on my flushed neck. Gently pulling my hair back and unsticking it from my cheeks. Kneeling. Front to my back, knees around my thighs. We are actually as one now. On the filthy floor, we are being honest now.
"I said it because you don't look at me like you do him or Mage [Redacted]. You don't have eyes for me like that. We have something else. I didn't think about it until now. That maybe what's wrong isn't you, it's me." Danijel says, resting his cheekbone on the top bone of my spine. "Because I'm not living the life I want to. You woke me up to that, what we did then was what I want - just not... it's not us. I don't want to compete, I want to feel like I'll always be number one."
"I can't give you that." I reply, still speaking into the ceramic depths. Staring at my own failure, breathing through my mouth to avoid retriggering the sickness.
"I know, so we won't." He says reasonably. For a man who just got put down cold.
"Guys, I don't know what naked shit you're doing but I need to use the bathroom." Lucas says with all the sense and restraint of someone very disgust-interested.
"Turn around then, we're coming out." Danijel says firmly. Helping me up. He puts me behind him. And we walk out to the bath area next door. I've never been so relieved to see water. I don't care about how warm or clean it is. I just want to scrub. I am beelining for it and climbing into the tepid water and grabbing gritty soap, to sluice off my shame as I hear.
"Holy Ixion's Dick, they were totally naked." Lucas reports, to Tomislav's bedroom door.
"Bro, I'm pretty sure she's usually naked." Tom says unconcerned, the sound of pages turning in an undoubtedly lewd book.
As Danijel washes my hair, I still have tears tracking down my cheeks. He takes breaks to wipe them away with the backs of his hands.
"I will always love you." I say with a choked continuation getting lost in my throat.
"And I will always love you. I just think I need to change. I just think.. I need to start being who I write, not writing who I want to be." He says reasonably, for a man who has just realised his whole world needs to be upended.
"I think I need to change too. I think everything needs to change. I am going to go."
"You always had to. Playing house with me is not your goal.. and really, it's not mine either."
We clean ourselves in silence on one of the hardest nights of my life.
Katherine "Queen of Mistakes" Kearney.
It was early morning, still mostly the night before. I'd managed to find myself a few bottles of elderflower wine from a helpful neighbour who I'd compensated very graciously. More than I should have considering the sugar content. However, I'm writing this with the power of hindsight. I made a mistake. The kind of gut wrenching, world ending choice that I should have known better of.
Living in the cramped threadbare house, I had been sharing Danijel's bed in a very soft and cordial manner. The only way in which he manages to exist. All apologies and quiet musings and pillow barriers for propriety. The problem is my pride. The problem is that I'm not used to resistance, in any manner. What sort of professional can't even get a stray hand in? What sort of faintly romantic liason doesn't have any romance in it?
To my former self, I want to say: Twat, bitch, idiot.
Anyway. Everything I was wearing wasn't managing the quick wipe downs I was giving it and in-the-bath rinses and leaving in front of the fire.
So I strolled into the shared room au naturel. By this point I was still extremely high on my own winning ways. So I leaned against the closed door. Posing with just my confessors chain on. The wide, winding and wild tattoo of a rose and thorns reaching from inner thigh, to under my left breast. Usually hidden for work by my corset. Each sparse leaf had important initials inked into it. Including Danijel's.
I felt his eyes rest on his initials and flutter slightly. He closed the book he was holding and it slid to the floor.
Book, I gave the performance of my lifetime. A boy full of stuttering, stammering and confusion - after several rounds became a demanding and domineering partner. I felt we'd met as a match. I felt as if perhaps I'd awakened something important. I thought I'd done so incredibly well.
As we lay side by side, I turned to look at him with sultry eyes. And he said.
"We can never do this again." He didn't look at me.
"I'm sorry, excuse me?" I stammered.
"Because whatever it is you charge, I can't afford it. You didn't do that for you. You did that for me." He continues calmly. Still not looking.
My stomach feels the blow of truth and misplaced identity. It turns from icy, heat to acid and fear. I don't remember exactly how, but I fled the room and only just made it to the commode. My knees hitting the floor with the unmistakable sound against the stone floor, flesh on freezing flat. I sicked up every single piece of pride and smug enjoyment that I'd been holding in. I let out all of it with racking sobs into the watery depths, the force of it running out of my nose and down my chin.
I hear footsteps behind me, a cool hand on my flushed neck. Gently pulling my hair back and unsticking it from my cheeks. Kneeling. Front to my back, knees around my thighs. We are actually as one now. On the filthy floor, we are being honest now.
"I said it because you don't look at me like you do him or Mage [Redacted]. You don't have eyes for me like that. We have something else. I didn't think about it until now. That maybe what's wrong isn't you, it's me." Danijel says, resting his cheekbone on the top bone of my spine. "Because I'm not living the life I want to. You woke me up to that, what we did then was what I want - just not... it's not us. I don't want to compete, I want to feel like I'll always be number one."
"I can't give you that." I reply, still speaking into the ceramic depths. Staring at my own failure, breathing through my mouth to avoid retriggering the sickness.
"I know, so we won't." He says reasonably. For a man who just got put down cold.
"Guys, I don't know what naked shit you're doing but I need to use the bathroom." Lucas says with all the sense and restraint of someone very disgust-interested.
"Turn around then, we're coming out." Danijel says firmly. Helping me up. He puts me behind him. And we walk out to the bath area next door. I've never been so relieved to see water. I don't care about how warm or clean it is. I just want to scrub. I am beelining for it and climbing into the tepid water and grabbing gritty soap, to sluice off my shame as I hear.
"Holy Ixion's Dick, they were totally naked." Lucas reports, to Tomislav's bedroom door.
"Bro, I'm pretty sure she's usually naked." Tom says unconcerned, the sound of pages turning in an undoubtedly lewd book.
As Danijel washes my hair, I still have tears tracking down my cheeks. He takes breaks to wipe them away with the backs of his hands.
"I will always love you." I say with a choked continuation getting lost in my throat.
"And I will always love you. I just think I need to change. I just think.. I need to start being who I write, not writing who I want to be." He says reasonably, for a man who has just realised his whole world needs to be upended.
"I think I need to change too. I think everything needs to change. I am going to go."
"You always had to. Playing house with me is not your goal.. and really, it's not mine either."
We clean ourselves in silence on one of the hardest nights of my life.
Katherine "Queen of Mistakes" Kearney.