InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "stay away from 'brim' "

Anne Hollstay {basil hallward} (justlikelife) wrote in bellumlogs,
@ 2010-01-03 23:34:00

Entry tags:

dorian gray

Who: Anne & Trenton
What: A painting delivery.
Where: P4
When: Before this and this.
Warnings: I feel I should warn for Trenton, the hedonistic Dorian.

It was a funny thing, life. Anne found things she didn't even know she was looking for in Piper, and his parents had been sweet, if utterly silent, people. They had been very nice to her, and though her ASL was still abysmal, there was not a more relaxing place to be than in their home. Yet, she had come back to Bellum Letale to finish the Project. Partly because it needed to be done, and partly because it called to her in a way she couldn't ignore, some soft siren song just out of earshot. She came alone because she didn't want to tell Piper about it.

The Project took a week to fully complete. She only knew it took a week because when it was done, she left her work room, stretched her arms above her head, and turned the television news station on. The date scrolled on the bottom of the screen. Anne looked around. The room was cold, and her skin prickled for the first time. She was aware she was sick; something she caught over the last week, she surmised, some kind of bug. She felt weak in the marrow of her bones, and sleep had been both evasive and ultimately useless when she had thought to seek it. Avoiding a mirror, Anne took a long, hot bath with peach and jasmine bath salts, then sat on the edge of the tub to comb her hair and clean herself up. She would deliver her work to the subject, she decided. Piper would hardly be tolerant of another man's portrait, and though she didn't truly understand the objection, she was willing to concede--when it came to this man, anyway. If she was honest with herself, the fascination there went a little beyond aesthetic appreciation.

Shaking that off, Anne wrapped herself up in a thick cable-knit sweater, enclosed the frame of the Project in brown paper, and edged out of her apartment. The elevator went up and down a few times, but she hardly noticed. She was exhausted, she realized, with some surprise. Not just a little out of sorts, not just tired, all the way deep down, even to the point where her thoughts moved slowly. A break, she was thinking, as the elevator announced the penthouse floor, finally. I just need a break.

Knock knock, Trenton.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

cyprian
2010-01-13 08:24 pm UTC (link)

This made sense, he realized. This. Anne, with her bottomless eyes and inexperienced mouth. Anne, who was obviously so in love with him that she'd made him into something eternal. Trenton clutched her twisting fingers, impatient when she crammed herself back against the couch. It was an arch of escape, not of yielding. Anne's plea to halt was met with a frustrated sound, but Trenton did stop. He didn't retreat, but he didn't advance. Just hovered, obviously quite irritated, in this in between.

"What?"

	cyprian 2010-01-16 06:38 am UTC (link)
	Anne recoiled, and it was like a blister across his conscious mind. Sore, furious. "Don't, Anne." It was a warning, but threaded thick with the ache of her wordless accusation. Even if it was no less than he deserved. "I'm sorry, okay?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	cyprian 2010-01-16 06:49 am UTC (link)
	He followed Anne, a young blooded coyote tracking the wounded. Neglecting his blanket toga at the couch, it was finally evident that he was thankfully wearing pants. With a turn of his heel, Trenton actually reached the door before her. Hand on it, not caging Anne in, but tolling her leave. "You don't forgive me?" Trenton's tone was a little disbelieving. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	cyprian 2010-01-16 07:03 am UTC (link)
	Anne was fading before his eyes, pigment seemed to be leeching from her in just this short walk to his door. Her exhaustion was palpable, and Trenton didn't hesitate to push some dark hair back from the fleshy carve of her cheek. "You could sleep here," he said while watching Anne as if expecting to have to catch her again any moment. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)