Bridget Carys Llywelyn (symphony_muted) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-06-23 22:14:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | bridget llywelyn, saint david |
Who: Bridget and David
What: You're stuck with me
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: Patrick's
Bridget had finally made her way to the city after phone calls and arrangements and inquiries in case this went the way she hoped it would. And either way it went, David would know how she felt. How much if affected her when he said he wanted to be alone for a little while. Bridget had always said she didn't care who he was before she had met him, she would love him anyway. She hadn't expected him to be a centuries-old saint, but at least what she had said remained true.
She showed up at his door, knocking several times before she gave up. He wasn't home and neither was alone else. She wasn't giving up that easily, however. Bridget took herself back downstairs and she set up on his steps, waiting for him to arrive.
David walked with his head bent, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his coat against the cool Spring wind. He'd been at the church all morning, helping in whatever way he was needed, volunteering for umpteen dozen different events, and when that was done, sitting in prayer until his knees went numb. He made his way slowly home, in no hurry to return to the empty apartment. The animals wouldn't miss him.
When he saw Bridget on the steps he stopped short, his voice freezing in his throat and his heart missing a beat. She seemed so fresh and beautiful, like a stray ray of sunlight had slipped through a cloud and was illuminating the gloom he felt he'd been walking through. He couldn't speak her name, he just stared and waited for her to notice him.
Bridget did notice him, looking up in an attempt to stop staring at her knees. She smiled when she saw him. An impulse. Then she rose and walked over to him. "David. Can we go up to your place to talk?"
David nodded mutely, clenching his jaw against his emotions. He'd never considered himself to be an emotional man, but with her... He swallowed and lead the way inside, fumbling with his keys when he opened the door. Downpatrick looked up at him when he came in, tail thumping on the floor, and David ruffled his fur as a way of trying to ground himself.
"You have a dog!" Bridget said, the moment she stepped through the door. Then she plopped herself down on the floor, her bag beside her, to pet Downpatrick who pranced around in front of her, glad for the attention. "Oh hello, boy! You are gorgeous! What is his name, David?"
"D-" David had to clear his throat to get his voice back. "Downpatrick. He's Patrick's dog. The birds are mine. And Bryn." He didn't know exactly where the manic ginger cat was. He'd come back and Bryn had been almost grown. He felt a pang of regret at missing that.
"He's gorgeous," Bridget cooed at Downpatrick, who rewarded her by licking her cheek. Bridget laughed her melodic laugh and then she looked up at David and smiled at him. "It's good to see you, David. How have you been?"
David couldn't help but smile a little back. "Fine," he said noncommittally, going to the kitchen to put the jug on. "Would you like some tea and Welsh cakes?" He busied himself getting them various bits out anyway. "So... to what do I owe the pleasure?" he said as he did so, forced cheer sounding a little vacant and brittle.
"I'll take it if you're making it," Bridget said easily. She could see right through his fake cheer and it set her on edge. "I came here because I am not letting you leave me."
David choked and fumbled the mug, and it clattered loudly on the counter. It took him a moment to regain himself, but he took a step back and looked through at Bridget.
"Pardon?" he replied faintly, caught unprepared.
"You heard me," Bridget said, slowly standing so as not to disturb Downpatrick. "I am not letting you leave me. I understand you have a whole...saint thing going on, and that's fine. I can learn to deal with it. I want to learn to deal with it. Because you asked me to marry you and I said yes. And you can't take that back," she said, nodding firmly.
David's mouth worked as he tried to think of an answer. "I- I have responsibilities," he tried, thinking of everything everyone had told him. "I made vows of- of- self-sacrifice-" How dumb it sounded, stammered out to a disbelieving audience. When everyone else had changed. He had asked her to marry him, no matter who he turned out to be, and he was the one breaking that promise now, not her.
"You made a vow to me too," Bridget said. "Or...you made a vow to make vows. I know you have responsibilities. I can handle that. But I am not leaving you. Not if you still love me. Do you still love me, David?"
David sighed. "Yes. Of course I do. I never stopped," he said, struggling to find some kind of compromise within himself. The answer just seemed so obvious. "I miss you. But- but- I can't just take time off, you know?"
"Take time off from what? Yourself? It's you I love, David. And I am not going anywhere. You don't leave the people you love, David." Bridget looked him right in the eyes then. "I learned that the hard way and I am not doing it again."
David shook his head, resisting the urge to stamp his feet like a child. He didn't want to hurt Bridget. That was the last thing he wanted. But the last vestiges of his old self still cling to him like cobwebs, and he couldn't shake free.
"Then how do I be a saint and a man at the same time?" he asked, spreading his hands in a silent plea for help.
Bridget had no idea how to be a saint at all, but it didn't make sense to her that one could exist without the other. "How can you be a saint if you are not a man?" she asked honestly. "What is a saint? How do you define sainthood? Is it chastity, because there are married saints. Is it goodness? Is it Godliness? Is there a measurement? David, I think you need to figure that out, but I am telling you I will be there beside you."
Taking a deep breath, David turned away for a moment. This was too big. Going from nothing to marriage- but he had promised. And he wanted to be with her.
"What are you going to do?" he asked at last, running a hand through his hair. "You're in New Jersey. My brothers won't let me leave again so soon, although..." Running back with her seemed very tempting, but he was aware of the Original Sin now. He couldn't live in feigned ignorance.
"I already made inquiries. I can go back to working with the theatre I used to work at. Backstage until their current production ends, and then I can audition for the next one. New Jersey is where I have been hiding, David, and I'm tired of hiding. I still want to go to Wales as well, to see my sister. And I think it might do you good too."
"You're going back?" David knew how big this was for her, to take such a step, both in the theatre and with her sister. She only had one life to make the right choices in. David had all of eternity to repent if need be. How immensely selfish was he being, holding onto tired habits for the sake of his pride? All at once he made his decision.
"Yes. I will marry you. I'm glad you came, because I-" He stopped and then strode to Bridget and kissed her firmly, pulling her close. "I love you."
Bridget kissed David back before throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. She couldn't believe that had worked! But he was holding her and they were going to get married and everything would be fine.
"I suppose I'll have to go to church again," she said over his shoulder with a chuckle. "I love you too, David."
David laughed, actually properly laughed, and spun her around. "If only for appearances," he agreed, kissing her again. He felt like an immense weight was lifted from his shoulders. "Oh Bridget, I want to show you everything!"
"And you can," Bridget assured him. "You can show me anything you want."
"So when- do you need help packing up?" David asked, keeping hold of Bridget as he asked her. "I could help you. I have friends who would help. Oh-" He frowned a little, thinking of Patrick. How was he going to break the news that he was moving out? He'd conveniently forgotten that he'd been intending to leave without telling him anyway.
"Any time you want me to," Bridget said, smiling. When he frowned, Bridget reached for his hand. "What is it, love?"
"I was just thinking about Patrick. This is his apartment technically." David scratched his forehead. "I don't know if he'll be happy with me moving out or not. I suppose you could move in with us? John's here a lot too. But there's your animals to think of too!" Then he shook his head. "We'll work something out."
"We'll work it out," Bridget said, reaching for his hand. "Don't worry too much. We can compromise. Everything will work out."