T.R. Lansing (darkertides) wrote in horror_story, @ 2013-07-29 13:58:00 |
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Oddly enough, Marcus Caravahlo had actually been helpful. As much as Rob hated to admit it, he would have been in a worse state of mind had the man not been around, willing to spend the majority of the day playing the part of distraction. Jon had opted to spend the day at the falls, and while Rob tried not to hold that against him (after all, who was he to dictate how his guests spent their time?), he'd been hoping to see more of his friend. After some deliberation, Rob had come to the conclusion that it might have something to do with having a lack of friends to begin with.
Jon was a fellow introvert, prone to solitary jaunts. He couldn't be expected to pick up on Rob's need for a distraction. Eden Williams was an employee, and sharing his concerns with her always skirted the line of appropriate behavior. She wasn't a confidant, and couldn't be expected to act as a substitute friend on his whim. Who else on the ship could be counted? Not a soul, really. Since his falling out with Stephen, Rob's circle of true friends had shrunk considerably.
That was the other part of the problem. He didn't normally need any friends. It wasn't like he was wired to reach out, seek advice and validation from his peers. Normally, Rob didn't care one way or another, and was content with solitude. It wasn't a change in the status quo so much as it was a change in him. He was getting married. He was scared, even if he only admitted it to himself. His family had withdrawn any semblance of emotional support. Unused to being called upon to provide any, Jon was beyond offering it. So what did that leave Rob with?
A sea of worries, and one Marcus Caravahlo. Grounds for despair under normal circumstances, but for all that Marcus was a crude, megalomaniac bully at times, the man had been reliable to an extent. He'd shown up at Rob's cabin not long after the texts, and had taken it upon himself to offer relationship advice. No apology about the stunt with the gay Brit, but Rob hadn't really expected one to be forthcoming. And between the lines of she's not your fucking property and don't worry, the bitch knows what she wants; she already picked you there were surprising elements of concern and foresight. Susanna had said yes to the proposal, she had chosen him, and it was unlikely that she'd get up to anything terribly uncouth with her own sister in tow.
If her own sister had been in tow. That had been the problem, really. He hadn't been absolutely sure where Susanna was. He'd taken her at her word that she'd gone to meet her bridesmaids at a hot springs, but after discovering that some of the island tourist attractions were seedier than others, he didn't know which hot springs, or even if the other girls were really there. After all, she could just as likely assume he'd spent the day with Jon Bennett. Lies of omission were hardly even lies. Susanna might have been sparse with her texts because of dodgy cell phone reception... though the possibility existed that she hadn't texted back because she was busily wrapped up in the arms of some South American gigolo. That she'd chosen him meant very little if men couldn't be trusted around her. Susanna wasn't immune to the wiles of worldly men. She could be seduced. She also wasn't superhuman, and there were other dangers to be wary of. White women might be robbed, or kidnapped and sold into slavery...
Marcus had taken Rob to shore, offering distractions. Less than patiently shrugging off Rob's sour mood and refusals to drink. Ultimately, the man had grudgingly agreed to take Rob sightseeing with the tacit understanding that Rob was really only interested in investigating the local hot springs. Just to be sure Susanna was safe. Once said safety was established, Rob promised that he would discontinue all fretting. They went to five different springs throughout the course of the day, but by the fourth Rob had largely succumbed to reason. Susanna wasn't his property, and he needed to learn to trust her to handle herself on her own. He couldn't be with her every second.
The fifth hot spring was rather seedy, and - much to his dismay - was where his future wife happened to be. Rob hadn't seen much before Marcus had ushered him away from the area. Just enough to be flustered and outraged; his wife-to-be acting the part of mindless co-ed. An entire gaggle of potential sluts. No way to behave. He'd pictured her having demure spa days and shopping ventures, not baring her breasts to the elements and taking shots from a bottle. It wasn't exactly his worst fear realized (she seemed whole, at least, and relatively uncompromised), but Rob had still been furious. Storming into the fray to put a stop to her shenanigans would have resulted in confronting her half-naked friends, however. Propriety might have been shattered, but he was still on uncertain terms with his sister-in-law and didn't want to add seeing Delaney naked to the list of reasons to be uncomfortable around her. Nor did he necessarily want the ensuing confrontation to involve Marcus, who would surely take the side of physical exposure by stripping down, as well. The last thing Rob needed for his wedding night was a mental image of Marcus cavorting about nude with his wife. Or his sister-in-law. Or anyone else, for that matter.
So Rob allowed himself to be dragged away without making himself known. It was enough, he was told, to know that Susanna was unharmed. That the radio silence was due to -- according to Caravahlo -- healthy, natural distraction. That thought tempered his anger somewhat, but Rob was still fuming when he got back to the boat. After excusing Marcus from the task of providing either company or entertainment, Rob reclused back in his cabin to wait for Susanna to return. They needed to have a talk about propriety.