Persephone | Julia Rayne (springforth) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-11-12 11:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | loki, persephone |
Who: Persephone (springforth); OPEN
What: We're really just fine, under the pretense of lunch.
When: Friday afternoon.
Where: J. Random Restaurant, Upper East Side.
Warnings: None.
"Are you sure you don't want us to come?"
Yes, Julia was sure she could handle lunch by herself.
"You don't need company?"
No, for the umpteenth time: She did not need company for an hour spent out of the office.
"Okay. Well." They faltered here, unsure of what to say. She'd been Jules in Georgia, warm and full of contagious laughter. Then the team trekked back to New York and the man she saw now and again was dead in her apartment and it was Julia, wary Julia through and through. What did you say to something like that? 'Have a nice time'? They settled on "we'll see you later" -- as though it somehow extracted a promise from her -- and she left it there to march out of the office in her heels (added height), autumn coat wrapped tight around her like armor.
On any normal day there would be a walk involved, a trip to somewhere small and warm and homey where Julia could let Persephone slip out around the edges. There'd be nameless restaurant staff who did not know her, but knew the woman who liked interesting salads and the salt of capers and the near-orgasmic bliss of crème brûlée, cracked burnt sugar and velvet-sweet custard. Where she could, in so many words, let herself go a bit. Today was not a normal day, so there would be no walk. There would be no familiar odds-and-ends restaurant. The line between Julia and Persephone still maintained its blur -- it needed to, if she was going to survive -- as she hailed a cab and headed somewhere properly corporate, posh, expensive enough to expense away.
She moved from car to street to restaurant lobby, a small bright spot of blonde hair atop the black coat. Then they seated her, slipped a menu into her small hands. A brief look at her face and out came amuse-bouche, tiny bites of architecture which looked and tasted like the last days of summer, like jewels. They served her like a queen; she asked for nothing, wanted for less, and lovely Persephone, pretty Julia sat alone at her table and went through the motions.