InsaneJournal

WHO: Thomas Raith and OPEN
WHAT: Making a mess
WHEN: Sunday afternoon/evening
WHERE: In town
STATUS: Open/Ongoing
WARNINGS: TBD

Thomas was stuck in small-town hell. He hadn't spent all of his life in Chicago, but it had always been in places with culture. His father would never agree to settle someplace without it. It was something, as much as he hated his family, that he'd gotten used to. Having money. Which led to having pretty much everything he wanted. They didn't even have a Jaguar dealer in Madison Valley, for fuck's sake.

He'd never liked small towns, for many reasons. There was the fact that it was always harder to blend. The fact that people figured out something was strange right away. The fact that putting on his favorite disguise - that of the flamboyantly gay hairdresser - was practically as dangerous as coming out and telling people he was an incubus. Maybe more so. That, and he wanted to kill David.

It was beyond wonderful being back with Justine. There was no doubt about that. But Empty Night, he hated the thought of her being with another man. Not that she didn't deserve all the pleasure she could possibly receive, but he really damn well wished that she could get it from him. After all, he didn't sleep with other women for pleasure's sake. Most of the time he didn't even enjoy it that much, as much as he played like he did. Everyone he'd slept with who wasn't Justine was simply to feed his Demon. Thomas, the man who fought against the demon every day, would have been perfectly happy to be monogamous.

Which he had been, really, for a while now. Ever since Justine had found David and they'd been able to be together again. Of course, that meant he was right back to killing her. And he hated himself for it. How long did she have? Five years? Ten? Christ, he couldn't even love a woman without killing her. He felt like a damned naked, horny Midas who destroyed everything he tried to make love with.

He'd left for the afternoon to wander. He'd stood outside the church for a few minutes, wondering if he could find peace there. He couldn't, of course, although he envied those who could. There wasn't a God for Monsters, at least not one that would forgive him his trespasses. He thought about going to Harry's, but Harry was having problems with Molly at the moment, and needed his support, not his griping.

So he wandered. For hours, before finally finding a coffee shop not far from the apartments, and going inside, ordering something heavily cream-and-sugared before sitting at a table staring out the window at the road, and the people going by outside, oblivious to him.

Suddenly, in a fit of pique, he brushed his mug off the table, letting it fall to the floor with a dramatic crash before pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

"Just charge me for the damn mug," he grumbled to the footsteps who approached.