theodore watson {mars} (praelium) wrote in themoderngods, @ 2012-03-29 00:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, × central park, ♥ saturday jacobs : dropped, ♥ theodore watson, ♦ dodola, ♦ mars |
WHO: Theo/Mars and Saturday/Dodola
WHAT: Theo needs some fresh air
WHEN: Wednesday afternoon
WHERE: Central Park
There was a sharp, wrenching pain in his stomach that he couldn’t seem to shake off. He didn’t have to go to the bathroom. He wasn’t muscle cramping. And he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t from something he had eaten. The most adequate way to describe it was as if something was harboring in his stomach and kicking his abs with spiked cleats. Sitting up straight became an arduous task, and he knew that he should have gone to the doctor but Theo seriously had a strong odium against doctors. Well… not exactly odium, but they made him really fucking nervous. You’d think after having frequent visits given his rather reckless pursuits, he’d get used to it. But the sterile rooms, the smell of rubber gloves, he fucking hated it. So he ingested about half the bottle of Advil and all the mint tea he could find, but none of them were particularly consoling to his body. It had never gotten this bad.
And then he started to have dreams. Dreams of waged war and bloodshed. Dreams of violent calamities and men standing in meticulously organized lines. He wasn’t sure why he would have been dreaming about something so incredibly brutal, but he ignored it because if there was one thing that Theo was good at, it was ignoring the problem. Grabbing a foam cup, he filled it with coffee to the brim and then was out of his home, hoping that the fresh air would do him some good. The same hand that held the coffee had a lit cigarette that wedged between his forefinger and middle finger. The sunglasses were dark over his eyes, and even though he was feeling like shit, he was able to manage an at least somewhat content look on his face. He pulled the cigarette between his curled lips and took a long, therapeutic drag. Exhaling, he looked down when something prodded his foot. It was a dog and he looked around, not finding anyone in the vicinity. Theo went on his haunches and pushed his hand into the canine’s neck, giving him a good scratch. “Now, who do you belong to, fella?”