Bridget Carys Llywelyn (symphony_muted) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2011-07-03 22:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | bridget llywelyn, saint george |
Who: George, Bridget
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Central Park
What: You're dating my brother :D (originally posted by George)
George's plan for making a good impression with Dewi's new girlfriend now that she knew the truth (and was actually Dewi's girlfriend) was twofold. The first part involved being charming. The second involved the Corgis.
Bruce and Kal-el were busily sniffing at anything and everything within reach as George sat on the park bench, keeping an eye out for Bridget. He figured grabbing lunch in the park would be nice and non-stressful, and that the dogs would be adorable distractions. It was hard to feel awkward when there were Corgis around, after all.
He leaned back against the bench and checked his phone again, making sure no one had messaged him.
Bridget was getting used to being back in the city, and remembering how much she loved the bustle of it. She had missed the busyness of the park. She spotted George on a bench surrounded by dogs and it made her smile.
"Hi there," she said, smiling a little shyly. "Who are these guys?" she asked about the dogs.
"Hey!" George said, grinning at her. "Haha, these are my babies, Bruce Wayne and Kal-el. Bruce is the one trying to climb on you."
The dogs, true to form, were happily dancing around Bridget and wiggling in hopes of getting petted.
Bridget set herself right down on the ground, letting the dogs climb all over her as she rubbed their ears and cooed at them. "What beautiful boys!" she said happily, finally looking up at George from the ground. "I'm an animal person. But I am glad to see you. David has been telling me all sorts of stories."
"Yeah, they're sweethearts," George said, laughing as he watched the Corgis swarm Bridget and cover her with licks. "He's been telling you good stories, I hope? And not the ones about me almost setting his kitchen on fire trying to make soup?"
Bridget laughed and she let the corgis swarm her, not bothering to get off the ground. "I think that is a good story too, personally! But no, all good. You, Patrick and Andrew seem like such lovely people. I still can't get my head around the...saint thing."
"It's a lot to handle," George said, leaning down to run Bruce's ears. "Especially finding out the way you did. Are you religious? Or were you, before you found out about all of us?"
Bridget felt bad about shaking her head, but she couldn't lie to a saint. "I wasn't," she said quietly. "When I was growing up in Wales, I was, but I sort of lost touch with it. I'll go to church with David though. I want to find that part of myself again." Bridget smiled up at George and then she finally went to join him on the bench.
"Did you really slay a dragon?"
"It's all right, to have lost faith before," George said. "It's not an easy thing to have all the time. But it's good that you'd like to find yours again."
He smiled. "And yeah, I've slain a lot of dragons." Joking, he added, "Why do you think there aren't any roaming around now?"
Bridget raised her eyebrows at George and then she said, "see, I have no idea if you're being honest or silly right now. Maybe I'm glad I don't know. Every time I look at David, I just see the sweet man who lived with me for months and taught me to love. I don't see a saint I grew up hearing about in Sunday School. But you and Patrick are different. You're...these mythical people, and I don't quite know what to do about that."
"I was joking about the dragon genocide," George said, reaching down to pull Kal-el onto his lap. Kal-el had short legs, even for a Corgi, and couldn't hop very well. "But I get it. Hah, the funny thing about Patrick is that a lot of what he's famous for happened when he was still human. The life he's living right now is kind of mellow compared to that. Me, I was just some soldier, and then suddenly there was dragons."
Bridget gave him a sympathetic look and then she reached out to pet Kal-el in his lap. "I can't imagine. Just being around so long. It can't be easy." Most people might have assumed immortality was great, but Bridget really didn't like the thought of it. People were supposed to die. They just were.
"The weirdest part is the first time that you realize you aren't aging," George said, looking out over the park. "Since aging is really gradual anyway. One morning you wake up and realize that ten years have passed and you look exactly the same. It's creepy, at first. This is actually the first time in about ten years I've settled down someplace, because it's usually easier to move from place to place. But it's lonely." He smiled at Bridget. "It's one of the reasons I'm glad you and David met. I worry about him being lonely."
Bridget glanced down at her own lap then, suddenly shy. Here was someone who had apparently known David for centuries and she had known him for mere months. And for most of that time, she had called him Iwan. "Do...do you think I'm even worthy of someone like him?" she asked quietly.
George thought about telling her not to think of them that way, that the saints were people with flaws and sore spots and tempers just like anyone else. But actually believing that would only come from getting to know them.
Instead, George said, "You took care of an amnesiac stranger who had nowhere else to go. You were kind and generous to someone in a terrible situation, because it was the right thing to do. Of course you're worthy of him, Bridget."
Bridget chewed on her lip even as George sang her praises. "But I also got terribly jealous when that man came to the door to tell us David's family had been found. Which is terrible of me. I thought you would show up at my door and take him away and so I didn't want you to come." Not that she ever would have stopped it from happening, but she had still wanted to.
"You were worried we were going to take away someone you loved," George said, shaking his head. "If it had been me, in your shoes, I'd have done the same thing. That doesn't make you a bad person at all. If you'd locked Dewi in your basement or clubbed us over the head to keep us from talking to him, that would be different."
Bridget looked amused at the idea that she could even be capable of clubbing someone over the head or locking someone in a basement. "Not really my style," she added with a smile. "I always knew there was something about him. He was always so...calming. You know?"
Then Bridget shook her head with a laugh. "Sorry, you probably wanted to ask me here so you could get to know me. What do you want to know?"
"Hey, this is getting to know you," George laughed. Bruce, having finally gotten done sniffing Bridget's shoes, hopped up on the bench beside her.
"David said you grew up in Wales? What made you come across the pond?"
Bridget scratched Bruce's ears and she turned towards George slightly. He had unknowingly touched on what she considered the most defining moment of her life. "I wanted to study acting in New York City. Studying in Wales would get me nowhere. My mother didn't want me to go, but I had inherited money from my father so I used it on tuition. I wanted to see Broadway, you know?"
"Broadway's awesome," George agreed, nodding. "And I say that not having a musical bone in my body. My husband's a musician, so I get to see all kinds of theatre and music stuff around New York."
Bridget grinned at George's mention of his husband. The idea of saints being married actually made her incredibly happy. It made these mythical people she was soon going to become in-laws to seem much more human.
"Wonderful! I actually got a position in the theatre I used to work in again. I worked there for a while before- Er...before I moved to New Jersey."
"That's cool, is there anyone you know who's still working there?" George asked. He couldn't imagine getting up in front of a hundred people on stage for fun. With a laugh, he added, "And hey, at least you won't have to live in New Jersey."
"It's all new people except the director," Bridget replied with a smile. Then she laughed. "I didn't mind New Jersey so much. It was quiet and that worked for me. My mother got sick while I was here in University and after she died, staying in New York felt wrong. But I don't want guilt to rule my life any more."