|Lewis Carroll (twas_brillig) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-02-08 03:47:00
|Entry tags:||cassandra, lewis carroll|
WHO: Cassandra and Lewis Carroll
WHAT: Just a young girl coming over...
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: Charles' apartment
WARNINGS: Just Charles' inner thoughts!
Cassandra was coming over.
A young girl, or someone who appeared as one, was coming over to his apartment expecting comforting words or tea or whatever it was people did to comfort young girls.
Quickly, before she could arrive, Charles hid everything in his apartment that could be considered scandalous, including the sex cage and his sex swing. Then he set the beautiful cut out of Alice in Wonderland that Hans had done so that he would always be reminded of his boyfriend. As long as Hans was on his mind, hopefully his thoughts would remain pure.
He was a caring man. The last thing he wanted to do while taking care of someone was wondering how they would look in hotpants.
With a quick survey of the apartment, Charles decided he was ready. Come hell or high water, he was ready.
Cassandra left the home of her brother and walked quietly through the streets. There were people around but none of them bothered her and she felt in no danger here. If someone wished her harm, Cassandra was sure that she would feel it.
She liked having friends to talk to. She couldn't explain to her family the things she felt about Apollo, because they wouldn't like it. Cassandra herself didn't like it, because Apollo confused her. She feared him but that didn't stop the fact that she was drawn to him, even more now in this strange country than ever before.
So an uninvolved friend was better to keep her company.
It was almost two hours before she arrived on Charles' doorstep and knocked politely, her cheeks flushed pink from her long walk through the cold air and her dark hair windswept.
Charles opened the door and quickly ushered her inside. "You must be freezing!" he said worriedly. The moment he had closed the door behind her he was rushing for a blanket for her to drape over her shoulders. "Would you like a warm drink? Hot chocolate? Tea, coffee?"
"Your home is very warm," Cassandra said, shrugging the blanket back off. She'd been walking and inside here seemed far too hot. "Juice or milk, please?" she asked him. "I've walked a long way and my tongue is dry."
"Sorry," Charles said, taking her blanket back. "I am afraid of the cold. We have apple juice!" He moved into the kitchen to pour her a glass. "How are you?" he asked, handing it over to her.
"Thank you, very well," Cassandra said with a bob of her head as she sat down at the kitchen bench. "I slept badly and my brother and his wife have a small child to care for. I don't like to wake them because I want company."
"That makes sense," Charles said, pouring a glass for himself. "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?" So far so good. He was concentrating on her and not her body.
"I dream sometimes of Apollo," Cassandra said quietly. She drew her long legs up against her chest, an awkward position on the stool but she was slight enough to manage it. "Of snakes that whisper secrets and hot hands that touch mine, of whispering when the walls tumble and-" she shook her head, hiding beneath her hair. "He complicates me but I can't forget him."
Charles had to try very hard not to think too hard about hot hands. He was very sure he blushed, but to cover it up he concentrated hard on the second half of what she had said. "I don't believe I have ever met Apollo personally. Is he the same as he once was?" Know him or not, Charles knew of him.
"I don't know," Cassandra said honestly, moving her fingers across her knees and watching them as though they didn't quite belong to her. "I have never truly known Apollo. I have only ever been a girl and never a god." She curled into herself even more. "He frightens me."
Charles wanted to hug her tightly then, but he didn't know if he should. What if she took it wrong? What if she thought he was coming on to her and ran away? What if she notified the police?!
He cleared his throat and he moved to pat her on the back awkwardly. "What frightens you about him? Are you worried he would hurt you?"
"He can't hurt me." He couldn't hurt her because there was nothing left in the world that Apollo could do to her. He had cursed her like this. He had made her own family think her a madwoman and a liar, and made them disbelieve even the coming of that horse. Sometimes she wondered if her silence would have saved Troy. If she had not said the horse was a weapon then they would have realised themselves and survived. Apollo had taken everything from her and given her something she'd never wanted.
She looked up at Charles with an expression of gentle curiosity. "Are you attracted to me, Charles?"
At her rather forward question Charles' jaw dropped and he blushed so furiously that he actually felt hot for once. That never happened.
"I-" He coughed and then he breathed out shakily. "That's- It's a difficult question..."
"Is it?" the prophetess asked, because it honestly seemed like a very simple question and one to which she felt sure she knew the answer. Instead of saying that, Cassandra says, "I don't mind. But you cannot have me."
"No! No, I-" Charles chewed on his lip, feeling ridiculous. "I don't uhm- I have a boyfriend. It's just belief. Does that make sense? After I died certain family members changed details in my biographies and people believed them. It's become an enduring belief that I fancy very young women even though that was certainly never the case before."
"I'm not young," Cassandra told him with a small frown of confusion. "You are young."