lancelot (ex_dulac881) wrote in casefile, @ 2018-05-17 23:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: eliza weiss, character: harrison exley, narration: log/thread, player: holly, player: patty |
WHO: Harrison Exley & Eliza Weiss.
WHEN: May 17th, after this mess.
WHERE: Carson's and then their room at the Bellowes Inn.
SUMMARY: A horrible mess of emotions.
WARNINGS: Everything sucks. Mentions of dead parents.
[1] stay there Harrison let the screen fade to black before he slipped his phone back into his pocket and stared at the produce display in front of him. He felt tired and heavy. Figuring out where else he might go would have required too many brain cells. It was easier to stand here, to slowly read the various lettuce labels without actually taking any of the information in. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Now Eliza wasn’t even sure what it was meant to be like. But she did know that Harrison was upset and she was too, that off kilter feeling when they weren’t in sync. Strife wasn’t something they usually had. She knew how to get to Carson’s though and that was an action she could focus on. The grocery store wasn’t all that big. Finding Harrison was easy, standing in front of the lettuce. Reaching out, she took his hand. “Hey.” He gave her hand a squeeze but didn’t divert his gaze from the wall of leafy greens. “Hi.” Eliza leaned in, pressing her arm up against his. “Did you want to stay here?” He finally turned and looked down at her with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “No. Not really.” Looking up at him, she reached up with her free hand to catch his cheek. Tiptoeing she pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away to lead him out. Her fingers stayed linked with his. He followed along, walking slowly as he tried to shake the numb feeling. It was better to leave it for now. “Can we just go back to our room?” “Yeah, sure.” she matched his pace as they walked back towards the Inn. He walked in silence, down familiar streets, and back up the stairs that they’d grown accustomed to climbing since coming back to Fall City. Words were hard. Communication was even harder. Harrison just wanted to lay down. To sleep. To move on from this feeling whatever it was. It was all motions. The streets, the stairs, the key in the lock for an opening door. It was mechanical or dream like, set out on a predetermined path without thought only function. The door shut behind them and she took a long exhale. Hair on her arms was standing up, like fraught electricity was in the air. She didn’t know what to say. So instead she just stood there. Their conversation had been replaying on a loop in his head the whole way back and now he seemed to think that a certain point beared repeating. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” And with that Harrison kicked off his shoes and slowly went to lay on the bed. “Harrison.” Eliza said, deflated as she watched him. Toeing off her shoes, she climbed onto the bed and laid on top of him. If he didn’t want her he’d have to push her off. “Just. Tell me.” He rolled over, effectively shoving her off, but when they came to a stop he let his head rest against her chest. There was a long pause, he listened to her heartbeat, distractedly at first and then intently, as if it might contain an answer. “I tried to.” It was an hollow sort of hurt to be pulled away from. Like her whole chest might cave in on itself. But then his head was against her and suddenly it felt shored up, weaving back into place. One hand found his hair while the other found his back, fingers trailing light and mindless. “I know.” she took a deep breath. “I’m listening. Tell me again.” As if following her cue, he inhaled deeply before attempting one last explanation. “It’s like the stakes have been raised -- and that’s fine, but there’s more to lose now.” Another long, deep breath. “And I don’t want to lose everything again.” For a while she was quiet, fingers moving through his hair in a steady pattern as she absorbed this. She knew about his parents. Sure Harrison didn’t talk much about it, Dash talked a little more, but it was there. Somehow not all together real even though it was. “I’d never leave you.” she finally answered, the words honest and like they were ripped out. “Not on purpose,” Harrison replied flatly. The quiet extended. Her hands paused. “What if you left me?” “Why would I leave you?” “I could lose you.” She watched the trailing, as if it might provide answers. “Just as easy as you could lose me.” “You won’t.” At least that was the easy answer, the vague promise. “Unless I fall off a building or -- something.” “I’d protect you.” Motion begun again, gentle and rhythmic. His hair was always so soft, almost like silk. Like a fairy had somehow woven it. “Both of you. As best I can.” Harrison closed his eyes. The constant motion was relaxing but the pit of worry in his stomach had yet to dissipate. “Can you just not do stuff like that for a while?” It felt like too big a promise, like she was giving up another part of herself. It seemed every conversation there was some other little piece lost. As if the child inside her was using those pieces to make itself. “I won't promise forever.” Forever was a word that came up often for them, but this time it wasn’t something that Harrison wanted to hear. This time it felt wrong. He twisted his head away a fraction of an inch, retreated further within himself. When words finally did come they were a flat, brisk statement. “I’m going to sleep for a while.” Eliza's hand felt like it was burnt, his head pulling away a rejection. She let it fall to her side, balled into a fist for a moment at the sheer rush of holding back what felt almost like tears. “No.” She answered, her chest skipping up and down beneath him. “No, Harrison I'm not just some... Incubator.” “I didn’t say that.” The frustrated feeling came bubbling up in full force, it felt like bile. He sat up, feet hitting the floor. He spoke rapidly, insistently. “Why is me not wanting you to get hurt or worse a bad thing? Why is that such a bad thing?” “Because that's all everyone seems to do!” Eliza sat up, mirroring him as she watched his back. “I've been terrified for weeks. And it won't stop and it doesn't go away. And everyone that finds out just tells me what I should and shouldn’t do, like I'm some idiot.” It felt like shaking. She couldn't tell if she was or not, emotion feeling like a vibration. “I just want to be normal and I'm not allowed to be. Because I'm not me anymore.” Harrison slumped as he listened, he leaned forward, elbows on knees, his face in his hands. Fingers pressing into tightly closed eyes. It was a lot to unpack, too much to take in, the kind of thing that required thought and analysis. Time that he didn’t have right now. “I don’t know how to fix that.” He admitted slowly. “I don't want you to.” Because that was impossible, it was too much for any one person. It was too much for her, every day feeling like it might all crush her. Except for brief moments when she could pretend that everything was okay, where she could feel like the world wasn't falling in. “Just. I don't want to be fixed either. Or when I do things you already think I'm a bad mom.” She felt small, weak. Because maybe she was already a bad one. But she couldn't change who she was either. You already think. You. Harrison ran one hand down the side of his face, along his jaw where it stopped abruptly before dropping back into his lap. “I can’t win here. Whatever I say just seems to make you feel miserable or not normal. I don’t know what to do. I …” “This isn't about winning.” She stood up abruptly, hands running through her hair. They caught on tangles, she pulled them through and her hair along with it. The sharp, momentary pain helped focus. “I'm not normal. I feel things changing, little things. And then they'll be bigger things and then it'll be a baby. And. Fuck.” Harrison half turned. Eliza shook her hands, newly loose hairs falling to the ground. “I guess I just didn't expect you to immediately jump to me dying.” “I don’t know,” he spoke slowly, like he was in some sort of dream. “I think the thought of you way up there …” It wasn’t anything that they hadn’t done before, but he hadn’t been grappling with the knowledge that he’d be a parent before. “ --- because that’s what happened to me. Me and Dash. And I -- I don’t know it just clicked. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you don’t feel normal. I don’t either.” It was softer, less angry, and more open. Eliza took her seat back next to him, because next to each other was where they belonged. She held out her hand to him. “I didn't mean to freak you out.” His fingers danced along the inside of her hand before intertwining with hers. His words were flat, low. “I know.” She squeezed his hand before pulling it close. Opening it wide, she pressed his palm against her stomach. “You can't feel anything yet. Except maybe gas.” Whether it was gas or something else, Harrison pressed his palm closer to feel, or at least try. There was quiet. Risks, with hurt feelings, and the way he was flat but still held onto her. “You know. Jack's a cute name. If it's a girl.” Now he looked at her. Surprise seemed to be the emotion that was registering, but after a few seconds he replied. “I think I’d like that.” Eliza relaxed, just a bit. “I think I do too. Baby Jack.” She looked down at their hands against her stomach. “I'll. I'll try to be more careful. Alexi does have safety gear apparently though.” She hazarded a shy smile back up at him. “I might be too fat soon.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead with the same shy smile. “Probably.” |