Nathaniel (andwatchitfall) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-04-18 23:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-05, nathaniel, verina |
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
Who: Nathaniel & Verina
Where: The hotel
When: Afternoon
Rather than sit around and take up the new habit of biting his nails -- in all his years that was something he had honestly never done -- Nathaniel had taken to repeatedly confirming for himself that it didn’t matter how many nails he hammered into the walls or ceiling, it would not put him at ease. Usually he found handiwork therapeutic. Here, in his own home, he had enough of a restoration project going on that he ought to be able to put him through his own equivalent of a twelve week course of therapy. So why couldn’t he stop thinking about the high school? In the grander scheme of things the vampire he’d run into the night after was nothing more than a blip on his radar -- the barrier was what kept playing on his mind. The burn of violence intent that lay just behind it still made his hands curls into fists reflexively. It distracted him enough that his telekinesis had blown every functioning light in the house at some point since then. He had of course fixed then, only to have it happen again and get glass in his foot. Rinse, lather, repeat -- right? That was how the saying was supposed to go. There had to be a solution, though. At some point it had to be enough.
A mirthless laugh and Nathaniel hit another nail home with one blow. For someone of his age and experience that had been an incredibly naive notion to allow into his head. There was no such thing as ‘enough’ -- and for that thought he could already hear his grandmother’s voice, chiding him. Suddenly feeling his chosen isolation rather acutely, he paused before he reached for the next nail. The doorframe was almost all the way fixed into place anyway. It would not suffer any if instead he returned the hammer to his toolbox and went to get changed into something more respectable. After all, it was not quite right to visit your grandmother looking like a builder or a handy-man. He had to give her the birthday present he had made her, he rationalised. The one he was late with because he had made the dreamcatcher himself and then believed it to be inadequate, nearly arguing himself into throwing it away. But now, even as he drove to the hotel, he drummed emotional leakage out onto the steering wheel with his thumbs. A balanced mixture of family tragedy, frustrations with this plane, and the barrier at the school had slid under his skin like the smoothest of knives. If this was a test Nathaniel was quite sure he was failing.
He stood outside the door which seemed to unintentionally declare Verina’s presence to the world and shifted slightly before knocking. “Grandmother?” If he left it too long he would start thinking about things that he did not come here about. He was here because the school disturbed him so much the subject had given him involuntary reactions -- and because he had needed to. Some things were as simple as that. Please be in.