Kaleb and Annabelle Lee have an argument. Who: Kaleb Tripp and Annabelle Lee West. When: March 26, 2049. Where: Their home. Summary: Trouble in paradise. Rating: PG-13?
Kaleb was in his study, as per usual, working from his desk. Things were arranged just so, as they were expected to be, and he was finally comfortable enough to wear a short-sleeved shirt in his own office (one without windows), so he didn't have the fan on. The fan prompted lots of thoughts about murder, usually shoving someone's head between the blades. When usually flustered, he contemplated the bloodshed on a grander scale. He thought about dangling the body from the ceiling toward the floor, feet first, so the pain would radiate upward. The person would feel it until they died. And sometimes, they took quite a while to die. The thoughts, though disturbing, comforted him and he went back to tapping out a beat with his pen. Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap. And then a few sentences. Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap. And then a few more. With Lee in his house, in a new house completely, he didn't trust Limbo to record his words. He didn't trust his new housemate to keep to herself and leave him be. He recorded when he went to the beach, mumbling nonsensically to a tape recorder, but no longer at home.
It was that evening that he finally emerged from his study, pulling a sweater over his arms, that he finally showed himself to Annabelle Lee, if she was even around. He hoped she wasn't. Pressing a button, he prompted the talking Rona and proceeded to give her directions. "Perhaps more steak, please," he ordered, his voice calm and authoritative, but kind. "And maybe noodles. I'm not particular. Other than those two, the rest is as usual. Lee will be giving her own orders, so please do not expect me to group them together." Rona replied, eager to please, and then shuttled her message off to the grocer, who would eventually deliver several bags of food to his home. He took a bottle from the fridge and moved to a seat, carefully twisting the top off before closing his eyes, legs automatically curling up onto the chair. He didn't leave them down because anything could be under a chair. Anything. ~ Annabelle Lee still had difficulty driving past her old apartment in the cube complex and not simply making the familiar sharp turn right. Even though but one month in her life had past, she felt like she'd aged years since the fruitful law had been enforced by the government. Her job, it seemed, was the only thing she could still trust to stay stable and unchanged. Eleanore R. Bardou was a tough and difficult woman to please, but the payment was more than reasonable and Annabelle Lee had always enjoyed the fulfillment one gets after a day's worth of hard work.
Even turning the key to the door of the townhouse she could now call her own felt strange and peculiar. As if her mind and body still firmly believed that this was not reality. That it had been another woman who'd calmly parked her car in the spacious garage and turned off the engine. Another woman's heels that resounded on the pavement as she made her way up to the door. click-clack, click-clack. Another woman who was greeted by the pleasant voice of her helper Rona upon entering the house. The real Annabelle Lee was still coming home to her tiny but organized room, made herself a warm cocoa the old-fashioned way and curled up on the couch with her computer in her lap, already finishing some work that was due days later.
Annabelle Lee did not come home to him.
She hesitated in the doorway. During the couple of weeks they had been living together, she had rarely seen Kaleb. In fact, the last time she could recall was when they had ordered the living room furniture they, after three days of nearly constant arguing, had finally both agreed on liking. The seat her husband for all intents and purposes was sitting on right that moment, however, had definitely not been Annabelle Lee's first choice. She was too distracted by the awkward way he was sitting in it to really be offended by the chair, her eyes involuntarily traveling up his body and coming to rest on his bare arms.
She swallowed heavily.
"Hello I-- didn't expect you to...really..." she trailed off and frowned lightly at the sight of the numerous scars that marred his skin. Staring was rude and impolite, yet it took Annabelle Lee a moment to tear her eyes away from him and perhaps all too quickly make her way over to the kitchen. "Did you order dinner?" She asked casually, as she opened the fridge and uncapped a bottle of water. If she would be forced by the government to live a married life, so help her God she was going to try her very best to at least pretend that this was more than a strict business arrangement.
~ Kaleb argued about a great many things, things he didn't particularly care about, for several reasons. He loved to fight with anyone and everyone. He also liked to assert his opinions whenever possible. This meant that when Lee asked him about furniture, he purposely disagreed with everything she liked, bantering with a reason, though it was mostly for amusement. The only actual fight he put up was over a maroon armchair that had the possibility of legs that lifted up to recline whoever sat within it. It was a warm color, inviting, and the seat was terribly comfortable. He'd slipped into the cushioned heaven and rested with his eyes closed, quite content at the simple idea of enjoying something for once in quite some time. Lee, however, ruined this comfort as she shrilly declared she did not think the chair went with the rest of the ensembled furniture. He, then, proceeded to explain that life would be hell on earth if the chair he was settled in did not go home with them. In the end, they reasonably came to a decision about what stayed and what did not.
He did not realize that his sweater was rolled up. Because it was so hot in the house, or it likely always felt that way, he had a habit of rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. And when Lee came into view, her eyes catching his scars, he narrowed his eyes as he dragged the clothing back over his arms, covering them pointedly. "I had Rona order groceries, but I didn't order dinner specifically. I decided you would do your own shopping and I would do mine." He did not consider her feelings, obviously, and it showed. The chair tipped a little, as he moved, and it startled him. He leaped from it, crossing to the couch as though this was entirely his intention in the first place. He glared at the chair as he pulled his feet up again, staring at a place on the wall as he fiddled with a remote for Rona as she attempted to discuss movie options for that evening. It was clear that he paid no mind to Lee and he had no intention to whatsoever. ~ Annabelle Lee leaned back against the kitchen counter, content to just observe Kaleb for the time being as she sipped from her bottle of water. It was quite obvious the man didn't feel comfortable having the scars that run down his arms being exposed to her eyes. When she'd let her gaze linger on them, he had almost looked defensive and most certainly angry as he quickly rolled down the sleeves of his shirts. She wondered about the nature of the scars, curious as any woman would be to know what had happened exactly for Kaleb to get so injured that such scar tissue would form on his skin. She also wondered if this would be their life from now on. Him shielding himself from her in every possible way, even physically, and herself simply trying to make the best out of their situation and failing miserably.
When the hideous chair her husband (she hated that word still) had been so insisted on buying nearly tipped over under his weight, Annabelle Lee couldn't quite hide a smile, even though her thoughts had been far from light-hearted. "Careful, you might hurt yourself," she chuckled, not too unkindly. It was only when the words had already left her mouth that she realized how inappropriate they were, considering the circumstances. She nearly choked on her water, coughing loudly. "I meant you... not..." What was it about this man that he was able to make her behave like a foolish woman? She was normally praised for her eloquence. "Never mind," she mumbled, turning her back on him. Would he be cross with her for even acknowledging the fact that she had indeed seen his scars?
"You should have consulted me about dinner, you know," Annabelle Lee said after a tense moment of awkward silence, casting a hesitant glance over her shoulder. They'd been having a lot of tense silences on the rare occasion that they found themselves in the same room. "I would like for us to at least eat together. There are important matters to be discussed..." Whether she liked it or not, they were two weeks into their marriage and the government expected them to... conceive. A shiver ran down her spine just thinking about babies, let alone having one of her own. With him. ~ He didn't pay any attention to her comments as he was doing his best to keep from racing to the closet to find a large knife. He didn't know why he wanted to slide it along Lee's arms, he didn't know why he worried about whether she'd scream or not, he knew it was never going to happen. He was never going to force her hands into a blender or watch as a garage door severed her into two separate halves. He knew, for a fact, that garage doors could feel resistance beneath them and leap back upward to avoid 'pretending' to be closed. He was counting on the couch, his feet tucked beside him, as he finally looked up at her, his gaze latching onto hers with a strong sense of authority. He didn't have to think about her for dinner or ask her what she liked to drink. As far as he was concerned, they were merely roommates.
"I shouldn't have to consult you," he whipped back, his gaze turning sour. "If I do not wish to eat with you, then I simply will not. And I do believe," he started, checking his watch as though it were a magic eight ball prepared to give him answers, "I am not in the mood for your company." It was harsh and inconsiderate, but he meant it. He truly wanted nothing to do with her. ~ "Do you think I enjoy this arrangement any more than you do?!" before she could get a hold of herself, Annabelle Lee whirled around to face him, her knuckles turning white where her fingers clutched the kitchen counter. At first she'd thought that marrying the man who had lived next door to her for some years now would be preferable to having herself be matched by the government with someone she did not know at all. Especially during the last few days, she'd begun to reconsider that thought. What had she really known about Kaleb before asking his hand in marriage? What did she really know about him now? She, more than anyone, understood needing one's own space, and time to adjust to the new living arrangements and the situation as a whole. However, she started to suspect that these were not Kaleb's only problems. The man genuinely seemed to loathe her. Was it personal or did he behave like this with everyone? She hadn't seen the man interact with enough people to know. In fact, she hadn't seen him interact with anyone at all. Did he even have friends? Family? If he had, wouldn't he have introduced her to his parents by now?
She had so many questions. Kaleb was a mystery to her.
"In case you hadn't noticed," she continued in a firm voice that left no room for argument, "we are adults. We are married. It is high time you start behaving like the man you are instead of acting like a little boy. Whether you are in the mood for my company or not, you have it. I clean the house, I am willing to cook for you... why do you insist on being so horrible to me?" ~ Kaleb merely stared at her, an eyebrow lifted as if to say 'Is that it?' before he snorted and went back to counting, doing his best to ignore her and whatever she felt like saying. To him, it was silly to listen to her angry words as they didn't matter, not even in the least bit. They might live together, sure, but they were about as close as two Siamese fighting fish. Sometimes he could stand to have her in the same room, and other times..he wanted to slide her into the dark, cool depths of a wood chipper. Other times, he wanted to light her on fire and throw her toward another apartment. He couldn't quite get used to having her near him--just like he couldn't get used to living with someone else.
He stood, moving to grab his drink from beside the chair before quickly moving back to the couch again, and rolled his eyes. "I don't fucking ask you to do anything, Larry. I leave you alone, I'm quiet, and I'm cleanly. You could be stuck with a sex offender who constantly wanted to do you harm. Or you could be living with someone who insists on habitating in a pig sty. But I do nothing to offend you besides silence and the occasional disagreement. Therefore, your petty arguments are pointless and void." ~ Annabelle Lee ran both hands through her hair in frustration. She felt like pulling at the fine, brown strands, that was how far Kaleb was pushing her. She knew very well that no argument she could ever bring to the table would make the man understand just how unreasonable he was being. Of course, there was truth to his words; he hadn't attempted to force himself upon her and it could not be said that he was dirty or unorderly. Those were definitely good qualities, considering their marriage wasn't one by choice. However, she hadn't anticipated coming to live with someone so anti-social. Kaleb showed absolutely no interest in her at all, and she briefly wondered if she wouldn't have preferred it had he yelled at her from time to time.
"All I ask is for you to have dinner with me," her voice was clipped. "Or if you'd rather I ask you about whether or not you have donated semen yet right here and now, I could do that, too." She made a wide gesture with her arms. "So what will it be?" ~ He would have replied with something obscene, but he truly didn't feel like bothering his housemate. He simply wished she'd conveniently disappear and leave him be. He had things to do, most of which involved finishing his latest novel. He found that when Annabelle was around, he couldn't think and if he couldn't think, he couldn't write. He glared a little as he polished off the end of his drink, folding his hands around the now only slightly cool bottle. He thought this conversation was silly. Silly and pointless--just like all of their conversations were. "Don't they have people who do that for a living?" he asked eventually. "I'm quite certain those men get paid for the chance to jack off and knock up a pretty thing like you." He wrinkled his nose, expressing his opinion on the entire situation. "I don't have to have dinner with you if I don't want to. And I don't. I prefer the quiet, solitude of my study. If you'd prefer a conversation, I suggest you hire someone then." ~ She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to grab the frying pan off the stove, cross the small space between them and hit Kaleb right in the face with it. It was a fleeting thought and more comical than anything else, but it was there. Perhaps that would knock some sense in the man. As if the situation was not dire and bad enough already that she had to agree on letting the government use her as a breeding device for it's future citizens, her 'husband' now expected her to get herself impregnated with the child of a faceless name on a page. This had been one of the main reasons why she'd gone to her neighbour for help. What he said was so vulgar, so disrespectful... Annabelle Lee wasn't used to having someone go against her wishes and demands in such a way.
"Fine," she spat, turning her back on him. This conversation, if one could even call it that, was over as far as she was concerned. Kaleb did not understand her and he never would. He wouldn't even try. Without another word, she headed for her room, slamming the door behind her as she went.