Charlotte Rebecca Kemp (haunted_muffin) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2015-02-05 05:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | charlotte kemp |
WHO: Charlotte Kemp and Lane [NPC]
WHAT: Badnessss
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: Her abusive ex-husband's house (THIS IS NOT A REDEMPTION ARC)
WARNINGS: Drug use, talk of pat abuse. No fucking though.
Maddy's daughter had been born, early but healthy. She was honestly so gorgeous Charlotte thought she could get lost just staring into her niece's adorable eyes. Despite hating herself for it, however, every time she saw Maddy there was a deep spike of jealousy in her chest.
Maddy had a child. Maddy was engaged. Maddy didn't have a death sentence hanging over her head, or a divorce at the age of twenty. Maddy was happy. Jamie was happy. Thomas was happy.
Charlotte was miserable and sick.
She left the hospital, slipping out when no one was paying any particular attention to her. It was easy to find her way to the house she knew her abusive ex-husband Lane still occupied. She had memorised the way by heart so she could avoid it. Until now.
Still in the car, she popped several pills and waited for them to start to kick in before she slid from the driver's seat and up to Lane's front door. Then she knocked and waited, and was rewarded by staring into the shocked face of her ex-husband.
He didn't look so scary right now. In fact he looked positively pleased to see her, even through his surprise.
"You fucked everything up!" she accused him, slurring her words together.
Lane just blinked at her and then he reached out for her hand. "Babe. Come in, its freezing out. I know I fucked everything up, just- Just come in and we'll talk about it." For the life of her, Charlotte couldn't tell if he was being manipulative or not.
If she had been thinking clearly, Charlotte may have realised this wasn't the smartest idea she had ever had. Instead she just gave him a superior look and then passed by him to enter his house. "Your house smells nice," she informed him before moving into his living room and plopping herself on his sofa.
Lane followed her, his expression suddenly wary. "Okay? Have you been drinking, Char?"
"Ppffttt, no! Your face has been drinking! I had a pill so what! I didn't ruin our entire lives! Who did that, oh that was you! You did that."
Lane winced and he took a seat opposite her, clearly worried. He couldn't believe she was actually here, and now that she was there were things he wanted to say. "I- I know I did, Charlotte. I admitted to that in court. I pled guilty. I accepted every single stipulation you gave me-"
"You had your brother stalk me," she accused him.
"No," he said firmly, "no, my brother did that all on his own and I cussed him out when I heard. Char, I was- I was so stupid."
"Yes," she nodded. "Because I loved you so much, you idiot. And we could have had like...fuckin' seventy kids by now. Seventy-five. Fuck you. I'm dying, fuck you."
That last statement hung in the air while Lane clearly struggled with how to respond to it. Charlotte had burst back into his life, addled on some kind of substance, and he obviously was at a loss on what to do with her. "Char-"
"Huntington's." Lane's face crumpled and Charlotte hated him so much in that moment. How dare he be sad she was dying. He had beaten her on several occasions and now he was sad she might die? "Oh fuck you and your pity!"
"I-I don't know what to say, babe-"
"You're a real asshole-"
"Did you just come here to insult me?" Lane asked, though there was nothing accusatory in his voice. It was strange. New.
"Why aren't you yelling back?" She wanted him to. She wanted to fight with him and pummel his chest with her fists dramatically.
"I- After you divorced me I knew I needed to change something. I went to therapy...attended a group. Anger management, stopping violence. I did all of that. You made me a better person."
Oh great, he was a better person now. Not that she'd been able to benefit from it. "Whoop-de-fuckin'-do, you asshole." Lane pinched the bridge of his nose and that was enough to push Charlotte over the edge. She rose from her chair and pointed at him accusingly. "We were supposed to be married forever! I've been in love with you since I was fucking fifteen years old! And now fucking Maddy's getting married and having kids, hell even goddamn Thomas is married, and what do I get? Fucking genetic diseases!" Sure Thomas had Huntington's too, but his symptoms hadn't shown up yet and hers had. "I could have had the best life and you stole that from me and now I'm gonna die with nothing and I hate you!"
Charlotte started sobbing and immediately Lane rose and wrapped his arms around her. It was prime chest-beating time, but instead she just clung to him and cried until her lungs felt like bursting. She gasped for precious air and then looked up at him. "I hate you," she said again, feebly.
"I don't blame you," Lane answered. "I hate me too."
"D'jyou get married again?"
"God no! No, I- I've sort of steered away from relationships-"
"Okay, good, because we're gonna fuck," Charlotte informed him. "Please," she added, because his opinion on the matter was pretty important.
"Uhhhhm. I- I don't- Why don't you lie down in my room, okay? I'll bring you some water. You can't drive like that, I'm honestly shocked you managed to get here in one piece."
"Took the pills just outside," she said, as if he was the stupidest person ever. "Duh."
He chuckled and nodded, "I supposed that makes sense. Bedroom's that way. I think you need some sleep, okay? Sleep. Nothing more."
"Spoilsport," she said, pouting cutely at him, but trooping towards his bedroom obediently anyway. She was exhausted and sniffly and sleep sounded amazing. "D'you have lemonade? Bring me lemonade!"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and his voice was so familiar and fond, it made her chest ache.
Dammit.