It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-07-17 16:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | eris, phobos |
Subtle
Who: Rylee & Charlie
What: An evening in.
Where: Rylee’s apartment.
When: 7:23 pm, following these texts.
Notes: Placeholder for a Gdoc Complete
Warnings: None.
She hadn’t wasted much time once having received his text - things were falling into place again, much like old times. Sure, maybe they weren’t 100% level again, but she’d revealed all her secrets, despite them being sans explanation. And yet Rylee seemed willing to accept that: there was just something in his nature that made him far kinder than she would ever be, and once again she didn’t want to do anything to screw that up.
A six pack of Mike’s Hard Lemonade dangling from her left hand accompanied her to his apartment, her right left free to do the knocking. Charlie was dressed casually and comfortably, expecting nothing more than a night in with her best friend. It took a moment before Rylee realized he had heard the knocking on his door but he quickly stepped away from his kitchen counter where he had a spread of all the essential taco making bits and quickly answered the door.
Throwing it open he grinned at Charlie and stepped aside to let her in. “I’m glad you could come,” he said cheerfully. The counters were covered with food but otherwise the apartment was clean and the TV blaring from the living room where they would go to watch the show. “I hope you’re hungry, I think I went overboard making too much taco stuff.”
She met his grin with one of her own. “You know me, I eat like a pig. Both in quantity and inability to not make a mess,” she replied, stepping into his apartment, giving it a quick sweep with her eyes. Yeap, the same as when she’d been here last time. Not as though she expected it to change, but Charlie was comforted by the simple static nature of a room layout.
Approaching the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room, she set her offering down and eased out of her jacket, laying it on a bar stool. Her eyes roamed over the fixings on the counters, reminded a little of his mother cooking in the kitchen, back in Bull Creek.
“Sooo...what brought this around?”
Rylee brushed past Charlie, gently touching her shoulder so as not to run right into her, and went around the bar to the counter with food. He reached for a plate and slid it across the counter to Charlie before grabbing one for himself. “I kept seeing the damn commercial on TV, figured we should check it out if you were interested. Come on, I’m not gonna serve you, you’ll complain that I didn’t put enough food on your plate.” He grinned at Charlie before turning his back to her and grabbing flour tortilla’s and some taco shells for his plate. Glancing over his shoulder he continued to smile at his friend. “And you aren’t getting me piss drunk like you did before, okay?”
Quantico. That’s what this was reminding her of, that week in Quantico when she’d crashed at his place. She chose to skip over a particularly explosive event that occurred before the week was even out, instead focusing on reliving the sensation of being comfortably around him. A grin settled on her features, and she moved to help herself to the fixings, nudging him somewhat rudely out of the way with a well-placed hip.
“Who said I was trying to get you piss drunk? You managed that pretty well on yer own - no one said you had to drink it straight like me.” A few pieces of cheese were tossed in her mouth, then more were added to the plate as she essentially copied what he was doing, except maybe with a little more guac added. She licked her fingers clean, breaking free a bottle of the Lemonade and holding it out for his inspection. “And besides, only a major lightweight would get drunk offa this stuff. Pretty sure yer not that bad.”
“I’m not saying anything, just don’t be surprised if I do get drunk,” Rylee said with a laugh as he took the Mike’s from her and with ease flicked the cap off with the edge of the kitchen counter. He waved at Charlie to follow him into the living room, sitting down on the love seat that faced the television and putting his feet up on the coffee table, his plate of food on his lap, and bringing up his DVR menu. “I never knew you could handle straight liquor so well. Well, I lie, I did know, but my last memory was that it wasn’t so much. You definitely can drink me under the table, Charlie.”
Flopping down on the couch next to him, her plate warmed the coffee table while she twisted the cap off of her own bottle. She helped herself to a sip, shrugging. “I, uh, I’ve had a lotta practice,” she replied once the mouth of the bottle moved away from her lips. Her legs tucked themselves into an Indian position, back digging into the cushion of the couch. Pulling the plate back onto her lap, her eyes flicked up to the screen as the show appeared. She rethought the position of her legs and copied Rylee in putting them up on the coffee table. “Yeah, this just looks like a cheap cash in on that Twilight crap,” she commented as she took a large bite of her taco.
“Ha, yeah that sounds about right,” Rylee replied before he took a bite of a taco. Pulling the food away he pressed play and the TV screen came to life. Waiting until he swallowed at least half of his food he continued. “They even got the dark haired werewolf boy runnin’ around, don’t the Twilight movies have a kid like that too?”
“Yeah, Tyler Laurent or somethin’?” She spoke through chewing, her words slightly distorted. Still, she slipped down on the couch, perfectly happy to be back in the situation they’d been in four years ago. Acting like nothing had ever happened; she swallowed, but quickly replaced the missing food with another bite. “An’ these kids ain’t much better actors. I don’t think that line was meant to be delivered that deadpan.”
“They do sort of suck,” Rylee replied with a frown. He brought his drink to his lips and took a sip. “The lead girl reminds me of you though. Aw, man, the graphics in this sucks.” He leaned forward and sat his Mike’s on the coffee table before settling back against his couch, an arm just brushing Charlie’s as he brought another taco to his mouth and took a large bite. She took no special notice of the contact - just them in close proximity. It happened, and it was fine. Not like he had any ulterior motive.
“Like me? How do you figure? She’s as skinny as a stick, and I sure don’t do that much crap with my hair,” she retorted, swallowing the second bite of taco. The hand holding the food darted out to point at the screen, nearly shedding cheese on the floor. “The friend, though, he’s all right - a lil’ bit of comedic timing, maybe.” Charlie brought the taco back to her mouth, the third bite bringing her halfway through.
“Runnin’ in the woods in the middle of the night, hah. That brings back memories.” She chased her taco down with another sip of her hard lemonade, but her gaze was fixed on the screen in front of her.
“Well you are as skinny as a stick, Lee. I like your hair the way it is, dunno if I’d like those crazy curls. They seem so bouncy.” He took another bite of the taco and munched while watching the show for a minute before reaching for the Mike’s again. “The friend is nice, I like him. Ha, we never ran into a bunch of deer or any werewolves when we were runnin’ around the woods back home. Just rednecks and drunks.”
“Maybe the rednecks were werewolves. I mean, yah don’t really let somethin’ like that become common knowledge,” she retorted, cutting the half in half with another large bite that she was forced to chew somewhat before her voice was allowed through again. “And now they’re caught. Reminds me of the time we went for a joyride in one of my daddy’s garage cars.” She covered her mouth with her hand as she finished the bite. “‘Course, that was after I dropped you off. Caught me when I got home, an’ he was so mad,” she continued, laughing at the memory. “Whupped me so good I couldn’t sit down for two days.”
Rylee frowned slightly; it was one thing for Charlie to joke about her father but Rylee never joined in. If Rylee had ever hated someone, it would have been Charlie’s dad. To think someone could mistreat her made him incredibly angry. Far too often Charlie would appear at his window with red eyes because of something he had done. He never mentioned it to Charlie, but he hadn’t felt very bad when her father died. He was quite happy about the news but any sorrow or concern was felt strictly for her and her alone. After chewing more of his tacos he pointed at the TV with his bottle. “Would you help me out like that if I was a werewolf? You know, try to get me to control my rage and all that?”
“Uh, hell yeah, if it meant I got to pelt you with baseballs or somethin’. What kinda friend is gonna turn down help like that?” She turned, raising her eyebrows playfully, and grinned widely at him, then took another bite of her taco, finishing it.
“This Derek guy...is that his name?... He’s downright creepy. And, oh, here we go, obligatory make out scene for the teenage crowd,” she commented, rolling her eyes as the girl Rylee claimed she looked like and the main character made their feelings known physically.
“Hey, stuff like that happens,” Rylee said casually. “I mean, remember after graduation? You couldn’t hold your liquor very well back then and I’m sure that entire evening was pretty equivalent to this scene, sans the puking.” His voice remained normal but there was a blush of color on his cheeks. Still, he tried to ride it out and pretend he was calm.
The underlying comment in his words made her blink. Nothing in his words or actions prepared her for going down this road, especially since they’d never talked about it. But that had been years ago, and aside from one or two minor incidents since (and nothing to that level of intimacy), she simply let sleeping dogs lie. “Yeah, well, we all do stupid things when we’re drunk. At least I didn’t puke in yer car.” She kept her gaze carefully on the screen, treating the conversation as though it were normal and not walking on eggshells.
Rylee bristled slightly at her comment, somewhat hurt by her words but trying not to let it show. “I didn’t think what we did was stupid,” he said softly before plunging into a long swallow of his drink. Clearing his throat he tried to think of how to say what had happened was important, something he had hoped for, it wasn’t stupid. “It was the first fun night I had had in months, Lee. You know I wasn’t happy back then. It was nice to smile and be carefree.”
His father’s death was still a burn, even after ten years, and all he said was true. It was the first time he had been happy since his father’s death and only could Charlie manage that. The kiss meant so much at that point. It was his first kiss and he shared it with the only person he wanted to share it with. He wished that they could relive that moment but, instead, he remained on his side of the couch and tried to eat his remaining taco as if it were nothing.
This time the bite was her excuse to suppress all words, her mislike of this topic growing. She wasn’t necessarily upset about what had happened, but they’d both been drunk. Surely it couldn’t mean anything - but she was glad that the night had proved a distraction in those long months after his father’s death. For once, Charlie swallowed before speaking. “Lots of other things we could’a done that would’ve been more fun, like a swim, or...something. But I’m glad yah had a good time, even if my planning skills revolve aroun’ drinkin’ contests.”
“It’s a good memory, Lee,” Rylee continued, not entirely willing to let the subject drop. “Every part of it. I see no reason in ignoring it or pretending like it didn’t happen. I think that was a perfect way for us to celebrate the end of High School. It was different, we had never done any of that before.” He hoped she grasped on to what he meant exactly. Really, the entire experience had been new to the both of them. From the drinking to the kissing.
Her mouth settled into a hard line, fingers busying themselves with adjusting the plate on her lap. “So it happened. I ain’t sayin’ it didn’t. Nothin’s happened since, end of story.” There, topic discussed, closed. Rylee looked at her and mirrored her expression as he set his jaw and pressed his lips into a tight line. He considered continuing the topic, really wanted to, and even for a brief moment thought it would be the perfect time to grab her and kiss her hard. But he wimped out, like always, and observed his friend. Picking up her next taco with a free hand, she took a hearty bite and turned her attention back to the screen, where the two werewolves were having fight number whatever in a burned out in house in the middle of the woods. “Why’s that guy livin’ there anyway? You’d think the damned place was condemned.”
Begrudgingly he looked at the TV again and let out a short sigh. “They kind of leave you hanging with a lot of information in this show,” he said flatly. Leaning forward Rylee sat his bottle on the coffee table, maybe a little harder than he intended, and got to his feet. Stepping over Charlie’s outstretched legs Rylee made his way back to the kitchen. It was partially because he had run out of tacos and partially because he needed to get away from Charlie for a moment. She watched him go, sitting unmoving, with her mouth wrapped around the taco in preparation to take another bite. Things had swiftly gone downhill, and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.
“Hey, um, would yah get me another Mike’s?” Her voice was steady, if a little timid. There was no way he wasn’t going to come back to the couch, but she just wanted to be certain. “Please?” The knowledge of her friend’s crush on her was not new information, but at the same time, she found it incredible that he might still be carrying a torch after all these years.
Rylee bowed his head for a moment and gripped the edge of the counter. He didn’t answer Charlie right away, just took some time to gather his thoughts and emotions. “Sure thing,” he replied, his voice gruff. He took his time making his next plate of tacos then grabbed another bottle as he was about to leave the kitchen. With a flick against the edge of the counter the cap popped off and he let it bounce across the tile floor. He could pick it up later.
Coming back to the living room the teens on the show were having a game of lacrosse and he looked at Charlie, her stubborn mouth and small frame, and made a smile that didn’t exactly reach his eyes. “So who won the fight in the house?” He asked lowly as he took his seat again and handed Charlie her drink. She didn’t want to discuss the past so they wouldn’t discuss it. He kept thinking of Samuel’s advice but he just couldn’t follow through. Before Rylee did anything someone probably would snag Charlie away from him.
Despite his tight smile, anger nearly radiated off of him. Charlie could barely remember a time when she’d seen Rylee angry - nervous, of course, happy, all the time, even depressed. But this was new and...she didn’t like it. Mostly because she knew she was the cause of the anger. In their relationship, she was always the one to quicken first, to rise toward hostility, and now it felt like their roles were reversed.
“Uh, Derek, duh,” she responded to his question, trying to keep her voice as natural as possible. They sank into an uncomfortable silence for nearly ten minutes, both with their eyes on the screen, mouths busy chewing food. Charlie’s skin crawled with agitation, and she let her plate nearly fall from her fingers back onto the coffee table, making a small crashing noise that was entirely out of place in their silence.
“Is that why you invited me over here? To talk about shit that we don’t need to talk about?”
Rylee turned an icy gaze to Charlie and for a moment the sweet southern boy vanished. He was angry with Charlie but also himself. Angry that he just couldn’t get the balls to do what he wanted to do. He probably didn’t deserve Charlie. He wanted her to be honest with him and yet... he couldn’t be completely honest with her. Just beat around the bush about the fact they both knew was true. Quickly he turned his gaze back to the television and worked his jaw for a moment before answering her. “It was brought up, that’s all, you don’t want to talk about it so we won’t. And, to be clear, you’re the one bringing it up again just now. I thought you would enjoy the TV show and some tacos. Thought it would be a nice night in.”
“It was...it is...” Charlie stammered in reply, before giving up entirely and breathing out an angry sigh. She rubbed the flat palms of her hands on her jeans, pulled her feet from on the coffee table, and stared down at the floor before picking up her gaze to glare at him. “It wasn’t ‘brought up’, yah purposefully chose to talk about it. And then yah wouldn’t let it go, just like how yer not letting it go now. Now we’re gonna sit here in dead silence, watching this stupid show.” She gave another sigh, her face showing a battle to try and quell the anger, but it wasn’t happening. “Why can’t yah just be happy with what we are now?”
“I got you a drink,” Rylee replied in a nearly frightening whisper. His eyes still icy however he would not look at Charlie. “I came back. I asked about the show. I ate my food. You brought it up again. We can go back to ignoring it, pretending it never happened.”
He went silent again, one hand curling into a fist simply because it gave himself something to do. Then he released the grip in his hand, the tension easing out of his body slightly and he looked at Charlie with a more normal look to his eyes, something that always seemed to borderline sadness. His voice was softer as he spoke, the edge having vanished. “Why can’t we ever try to be happier than we already are?”
Charlie’s face instantly drained of all anger, a shock of fear moving over her comely features as her gaze turned into a stare. It was swallowed by a blank expression, the one she used whenever she needed to hide. She just didn’t understand why he wanted more than what they had - more meant disaster, at least from what she’d always seen and experienced. Finally she tore her eyes away from him, rising from the couch.
“I should go.”
Rylee gave an exasperated sigh and quickly leaned forward to place his plate on the coffee table before he turned his gaze to Charlie. Shaking his head, a hand went to rub through his hair. “No, Charlie, stay and finish your food.” He looked directly at her, trying to catch her stare. “We’ll finish watching the show, I promise I won’t bring up anything else from our past. Promise. Just sit back down and let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”
“No, I need to go,” she amended, turning and looking for her jacket, the sole possession she’d brought with her. As usual, there was very little that marked her presence in a location. She berated herself for a moment, recalling the dozens of pictures that Rylee had hanging up that displayed happy childhood memories of both of them. But this wasn’t her apartment, and she wasn’t comfortable here anymore. Quick strides brought her leather jacket to hand, and she slipped it on with the ease of practiced motion. The spiked lemonade was left behind as she reached for the doorknob, casting one last look over her shoulder, muttering a least one goodbye before she walked out the door.