preston rawlings, psychic accountant (ex_clerk820) wrote in rooms,
Re: Gatsby: Preston/Saint
The floorboards were bare under the battered socks of Preston's guest; the bungalow had come furnished when he rented it, much like Fitzgerald's narrator had found his furnished, but Preston's idea of furnishings had not been anywhere close. The old rag rugs he'd rolled up and crammed into a porch closet, because Preston was more attracted to the natural than the unnatural. A stiff-bristle welcome mat had been left where it was, raw hemp color and old rainwater stains, but he had removed or pushed away anything that struck him as particularly manufactured. Thank god, there was no pressed particle board furniture to be found in this particular era.
Preston remained standing in the general frame of the doorway, surprise flickering somewhat across his thoughts as Saint approached. He hadn't attempted any physical overtures during this particular meeting, and he noticed the new proximity immediately. The smell of pastry didn't evaporate, it vanished, as abrupt as manufactured sensory associations should vanish. The cigar box too went missing, though slowly, leaving behind earnestness and generosity, which had a simple, pure feeling, though no sensation.
"If you do, you can ask," Preston said, satisfied with that idea and trusting enough to assume that Saint would ask him if anything reached dire status. The man had literally bled on Preston's hands, and Preston felt with confidence that Saint would come to him for help if he, Saint, needed it. Perhaps even the reverse, astonishingly enough.
"Some of the books were here. None of the good ones. I bought most of them, books on finance. That's what I'm working in here. There isn't a lot of government oversight on money yet, a lot of loopholes." Preston didn't think of the antiques as semi-fraudulent; in fact, he thought of them as uniquely authentic. The financial law was the same, to him. If there was no law, then technically it wasn't yet fraud. Preston's morality was empathetic, purely for humanity, and not for organizations of financial fairness. As long as he wasn't taking the earnings of people who didn't deserve it, he could work for these semi-fraudulent people indefinitely.
Preston glanced down at the fingers on his sleeve, and wandered forward into the grip without thinking.