Faith Lehane is crude but effective (faithinthedark) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-06-27 20:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | claire bennet (future), faith lehane |
WHO: Faith Lehane and Claire Bennet (future)
WHAT: Avoidance only works so long
WHEN: 28th June- early morning (slightly forward dated)
WHERE: Claire's house
RATING: TBD but probably will involve swearing
STATUS: In progress
It was looking like it was going to be a beautiful day. The sun was already rising, shining brightly over Los Angeles as kids made their way to school, bouncing as that end of term feeling got closer. Some stopped and stared, while others had their mothers tug them away from Faith as she wandered down the street, cuts and bruises visible on her face from her night's work. She was only just out of the club, having made a few more thousand bucks in the cage, just fighting. Hours at a time, from the moment she was done with her patrol at sunset to the moment the club closed at sunrise. Just taking out her hurt and anger on one opponent after the next until finally the club closed and Faith made her way to grab supplies before making her way back to Claire's house.
She'd tried going back to the Hyperion, back to her room. The sheets were still rumpled from the last time Sam had stopped over, one of his shirts still on the floor. Each reminder of him and their lie of a relationship had felt like a knife cutting into her and she'd bolted, not going back to the Hyperion since. She still did her patrol, almost religiously. No matter what was going on in her personal life, her duty still came first. But once that was done, her time was her own and she spent it trying to forget.
Which was where the supplies came in. She sat in Claire's living room, pulling the bottle of vodka from the brown paper bag. Briefly she considered getting a glass before deciding there would be no point, as she opened the bottle and knocked a few gulps of the alcohol back. For a split second she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of Claire's television.
Well hey there Mom She thought bitterly. Guess you aint so dead after all.
It was the second part of her new routine. Drink until she would finally fall asleep, sleeping most of the day away until it was time to patrol again. She wanted to hate, so desperately wanted to hate him for what he'd done. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could picture was him with her, playing her for a fool. She'd been so stupid to think he might have actually loved her. No matter what anyone else said to her, Faith just kept the same ideas. She was a killer. Killers didn't deserve to be loved like that. Part of her wanted to shred every reminder of him from her life, but she couldn't even move his damn shirt. Even after everything, she just wanted her Sam back. If her Sam ever even existed in the first place.