lancelot (ex_dulac881) wrote in casefile, @ 2018-07-06 00:33:00 |
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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: A couple of days ago.
WHERE: Their apartment.
SUMMARY: A fight over ... pickles and peanut butter.
WARNINGS: None.
“All I asked for was pickles. And peanut butter.” She speaks through her teeth again, her hands almost shaking. It was not hard. Two things. Two easy things that should have been in that bag but were nowhere to be found. “Pickles. And peanut butter!” A bewildered looking Harrison watched with caution. “I thought you were kidding.” “Why would I be kidding?” She took in a sharp breath. “They're the only things I asked for!” “Because you seemed like you were kidding.” Sure, Harrison knew that cravings were a thing but … “You had that tone of voice.” “That's just what my voice sounds like, Harrison!” Harrison’s eyebrows shot up as he halfheartedly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll go back. I’ll just go back.” “That's not the point!” Eliza’s hand hit against the counter and the sharp momentary pain was enough to counter the strange rush of tears that now seemed to rush to her eyes. Alarm bells might as well have been going off, but Harrison found himself opening his mouth anyway. “What’s the point then?” “The point was getting me what I needed when I asked!” Her voice cracked and she faced the wall, trying to will tears away that shouldn't even be there because it was all ridiculous. She was ridiculous. “Hey,” Harrison was not the best at comforting. Hell, he wasn’t even very good. He cautiously approached, one awkward hand hovered over Eliza’s shoulder. “I can still get it. I know you’re serious now -- it’s not like all the peanut butter and pickles are gone.” “You should have already thought I was serious!” She tugged her shoulder away from the almost touch. “I can't drink, I can't smoke, I can't do anything fun, and all I wanted you to get was pickles and peanut butter because neither of those things are on the ever growing Eliza banned list.” “Well, I didn’t! And I can’t change that now!” He took a step or two back as she pulled away. Accepting the blame would have been a smarter move, but he’d tried it and it hadn’t helped yet. “You can still have peanut butter and pickles. The world is full of peanut butter and pickles!” “But my apartment isn't!” Her voice cracked as she turned around to face him. Her eyes felt red and hot and dewy with held back tears. “I ate the last pickle!” A small part of Harrison was still having a hard time grappling with the fact that the world seemed to be ending over a pickle. But the rest of him realized there were logical and plain reasons for this even if the outpouring was difficult to understand. “I’ll go get more.” He fumbled for his keys. “Ten minutes or less and there will be pickles in the apartment. It’s not a …” big deal. “It's not what?” Her teeth gritted together as she stalked towards him. Important. It wasn't important to him so it didn't matter. She didn't matter because it wasn't important to him. “It's not what?” Harrison didn’t move. Retreat might have been the smarter option, but she’d held a knife to his throat before and he hadn’t flinched then. “It’s not the end of the world. I can fix it. I can go get more.” She glared at him, eyes teary as she stood to her full height. There was already a physical space growing between them, a belly that was visible and without a hoody or an overshirt to hide it. “Because it wasn't important.” “No.” Immediately and with an edge. “That wasn’t what I said.” “If it's just a joke, it's not important.” Harrison sighed, turned and started for the door. “I’ll be back with pickles and peanut butter.” For some reason that was just too much. The tears pricked past her eyes and she could feel them on her cheeks. “Fine!” It didn’t sound fine. He stopped. Voice back to its usual flat tone. “Do you need anything else?” “No!” Her voice felt shrill and sharp even to her own ears as she went to the unpacked bedroom to flop onto the bed. Only to give a heaved cry of frustration as she rolled over. She couldn't really lay on her stomach anymore. The front door slammed shut. Pickles were easy enough, Harrison knew the type and brand that Eliza had been eating lately. Peanut butter was more of a challenge. He shuffled three different varieties into the cart before going to stare at the the selection of cigarettes behind the cashiers station. Eight minutes later the front door opened again. “Crunchy, regular, and the healthy stuff.” He called out cautiously. “Eliza?” She hadn't moved. Or at least she hadn't moved since she had grabbed Harrison's pillow to bury her face in it. The cotton was damp from tears that had mostly stopped by now. His voice didn't help. Harrison shoved the pickles into the fridge and approached the bedroom, pausing to hover near the door. “Eliza?” She didn't answer, instead opting to just bury her face back into the pillow. He went to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey?” “What?” She answered, words muffled by the pillow. “Look at me.” “No.” “Please?” Harrison reached out a hand to tug at the pillow. She let him pull the pillow away. As the fabric left she turned her face away from him, arms going around her stomach. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” She tried to turn on her side. It mostly worked. “It’s not nothing, and I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me anything.” Frustrated. “It is nothing!” Her teeth hurt from gritting them. “I don't know why I'm mad I just am!” “Fine.” With that Eliza settled into ignoring him because of course he would just stay over there. Like he always did. When she wanted him to hold her but she also didn't want him near her. It was confusing, overwhelming, and silence was just easier. It lasted minutes until she felt what first felt like a flutter beneath her skin. Her hand slid along her belly, tracking it, till she felt it light against her palm. “Harrison.” He sat silently on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall until she spoke again. His mouth felt like it didn’t want to open. “Yes?” She reached out towards him. “Your hand.” “Here.” He extended it, seemingly hopeful that this was the end of it. His hand was guided to her stomach, pressing it over the fluttering sensation. A look of genuine surprise lit up Harrison’s features. So. This was what that felt like. Weird. A good kind of weird. “Wow.” A smile slipped onto her blotched and tear stained features. “Yeah.” “Has she done that before?” He pulled himself the rest of the way onto the bed, next to her. “No.” Eliza looked down at their hands, pressed against the barrier to their daughter. “What do you think she’s telling you?” A ridiculous question maybe, but it had been the first thing to pop into his head. Eliza smiled, leaning in to kiss him gently for an answer. “Well, that’s sweet of her.” Harrison whispered between kisses. |