Gilbert G.P. Guilford (by_your_command) wrote in marinasylum, @ 2010-09-04 19:10:00 |
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Current mood: | depressed |
Entry tags: | :action, gilbert guilford, road kamelot |
[ action | closed ]
Guilford knew the wine would be no comfort. Despite that, he drank it in solitude and let it do its work. Unlike Cornelia, it did nothing to skew his moral compass, or his tongue. What it accomplished was to loosen the bolts of the doors that held the flood of doubt back.
Doubt. Always doubt. Doubt, fear, and shame.
When did he get the idea in his head, to act so cowardly? To see enemies in everyone, and make a selfish grab for an opportunity to be free... She would surely be disappointed in him. Disgusted. Weak, she would call him. Is this the man who claims to have my best interests in mind? I see nothing but weakness and foolishness. A frail husk of a man who is undeserving of his title.
She'd be right; he doesn't deserve it. That's how he let it slip from his grasp. It was why he had no will to fight the curse to begin with. Guilford still thought that if he had only been stronger on that day, this all would not be necessary.
Ever since he arrived here, he has been lost. The school made for a good distraction, but in truth, it did not occupy enough of his mind to keep the negative thoughts at bay. It was why he had to take this time to let some of the pressure out; to keep the facade up on a daily basis. Lelouch was at the school meeting that day, and it took every bit of will not to look at him. To give him an accusing stare. Euphemia would not want that.
Having put the club and the bottle behind him, he sat on the lawn in the late hours, his coat beside him on the grass. The SAZ memorial garden was probably the stupidest place to be with his mindset, but he could not help but be drawn toward it. It would be best to let the thoughts and memories flow forth here, alone.
Or so he thought.