Alice Munroe (ex_barebones985) wrote in the_colony, @ 2011-01-01 21:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 24, alice munroe, leo parker, | alice and leo |
WEEK 24: WEDNESDAY, EARLY AM
Characters: Leo Parker and Alice Munroe
Location: The attic
Summary: Leo checks up on Alice, and the two discuss what’s next for them.
Rating: PG-13
The comforting smell of warm, freshly baked bread filled the air of the old farmhouse, the morning’s first sign that there were living and breathing people within those cold, stale walls. Leo had been sitting for at least an hour at the edge of his bed as he contemplated his next move. He’d listened as Alice made her way into the kitchen --whether either of them knew it or not, Leo was painfully aware of the woman’s every move-- and in his imagination, he followed her through the steps of mixing dough and cooking oats until he realized everything had gone still. Alice was done. She’d be heading back to Bridget’s room now, and if he didn’t catch her he might not see her again for the rest of the day.
Give her some space, he reminded himself. But for how long? Leo gripped the edge of the mattress with both hands, watching the steady rise and fall of Walker’s chest as the boy slept across the room. Finally, with a deep breath of determination, Leo pushed himself to his feet and crept through the halls, ducking into the doorway of one of the bathrooms in case the approaching footsteps belonged to someone other than Alice. He was hardly in the mood to speak with anybody else.
The steps were slow and sluggish, almost labored, and then Alice appeared. She leaned against the stairwell’s wall, her head bowed as she audibly sighed. By the time she’d woken up Tuesday, it was dark. The rest of the day had become a blur. She barely remembered anything, other than the knowledge that she’d seen Louisa May at one point and that Bridget had spoken with her in concerned, sad tones. She still felt miserable, and she knew and dreaded the fact that Tom would no doubt track her down that afternoon to talk to her.
It was that paranoia of being tracked down that had the hair on the back of her neck and on her arms suddenly rising. Alice looked to the right, down the hall toward Jed’s room, her heart leaping in her chest until she caught the shape of the man standing in the archway of the upstairs bathroom. Her heart did a different kind of flip.
Seeing Alice tense in hallway, Leo knew she could see him, and when her tension failed to leave her shadowed features the man found himself doubting his decision to seek her out. He held his breath and lingered there in the darkness for a moment, his own tension building in his shoulders and up the back of his neck. There was so much he’d thought about telling her, so much he wanted to say, but now that it came down to it, Leo found himself at a complete loss for words.
He stepped out so that she could see his face and leaned his shoulder in the doorway. “Alice--” he stumbled through his thoughts and finally landed on the most important one: “are you okay?”
Just the question brought back all the horribleness of the past few days, though his asking cut through it just enough to keep her from crying. She gave him a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but shook her head in answer. It was still early; she didn’t want to wake anyone up with her voice.
When Leo pressed his lips together in a thin, straight line, his expression grew even more serious. Worried that she might push him away, he hesitated a little longer than he normally might have, but his concern seemed to outweigh his doubts, pushing him to take the few steps needed to close the distance between them. When he reached out and gingerly touched his fingertips to her cheek, his jaw clenched and the tension rose further as he whispered.
“Did he hurt you?”
“I hurt him worse,” Alice whispered in answer, her expression sad.
Leo’s hands fell to both her shoulders, squeezing lightly. “Did he hit you?” He was still whispering, but there was something dangerous in the way he asked it. Nobody would tell him the full story of what exactly had happened, if anybody even knew, and it was nearly enough to make him lose his mind; the not knowing.
“No,” she replied, her voice lifting to an emphatic murmur. She wanted nothing more than to lean into his arms just then, but she couldn’t. Not out in the open where Jed might see if he opened the door. She couldn’t stand hurting him more than she already did. “Can we sit somewhere?”
The potential rage that was rolling in on him like the tide was already ebbing at her denial of Jed physically hurting her. “Yeah,” he answered with a quick glance down the hall. They couldn’t go back to Bridget’s room, and if anyone saw her coming out of his own room people would talk. Of course, Leo could give a shit less about what they had to say, but out of respect for Alice he would have none of it. “Come on.”
The attic was the first logical choice. Leo let his hands drop from her shoulders only to take her hand so he could lead her up the stairs. Alice followed in silence, hyper-aware of the sound of their footsteps, and even more aware of the warmth of his hand in hers. Once the little door was closed she visibly relaxed a little, though her arms circled around herself. The attic was cold.
She found one of the heavy-duty cedar chests already in the attic when they’d arrived which would be big enough for the two of them to sit on, settling on the left. Her eyes fell somewhere between the floor and her knees. Leo sat down beside her, strangely comfortable in the cold, musky silence of the attic. He slid his jacket off, wrapped it around Alice’s shoulders, and soon found himself clutching the edge of the cedar chest just as he’d been doing to the mattress minutes ago.
Alice sighed, closing her eyes and leaning forward rather than into him, though that had been her first instinct.
“He...” she started, then wetted her lips and tried again. “We’d always been sorta like... a hurricane. The storm had hit, but it hadn’t came to its peak yet. It was always gonna happen.” She let out a slow, shuddering breath. “I hate myself.”
This sort of conversation was best left between two women, and being a man Leo didn’t have the slightest clue of what to say. After giving it a little thought, he put his arm around Alice and squeezed her opposite shoulder, trying to put his thoughts to words. He wasn’t sure if he’d make her feel better or worse, which made him nervous. Leo swallowed and spoke anyway, his voice low in the quiet.
“The only thing you should hate yourself for... is staying so long with someone who makes you hate yourself.”
There was so much truth in his words that it made her heart ache, and Alice screwed her eyes tighter shut to hold back from crying. She leaned into his embrace, focusing on keeping her breathing slow and even.
“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding slightly. “Maybe.”
Leo frowned slightly and stared at the floor, tightening his arm around Alice’s shoulders. He pressed his nose to her hair and breathed her in slowly. Egotistical as it may have been, Leo knew that the fault for everything that had happened really lay with him. He should never have left in the first place. None of this would have happened, and Alice would never have become this miserable, empty shell of herself. The realization left a whole new layer of guilt that made it hard for him to stand himself.
“I hate myself, too,” he confessed. “I never should have left. It was the stupidest thing I ever did, and I’ve done a lot of stupid shit.”
“You were just trying to protect yourself,” Alice said quietly, shifting her arm where it was tucked against his side to slide behind his back, her hand resting on his hip. “You were afraid. Fight or flight. Everyone does it.”
“Even you,” Leo answered. He wondered if it would be that easy; if Alice would let him turn the tables on her like that. She was just trying to protect herself.
Alice made a noise that was the long-dead cousin of a laugh, shaking her head slightly before resting it lightly on his shoulder. She certainly had reacted to that base instinct before -- hell, he’d experienced it second-hand in finding her after she’d been mugged -- but she wasn’t sure his leaving and her breaking up with Jed could be compared. She hadn’t been afraid of Jed; she’d been afraid of losing sight of the things she wanted in whatever was left of her life.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said again.
Leo sat quietly for a moment, reaching up to brush some of Alice’s hair behind her ear. He wanted to tell her she made the right decision, that he was happy for what she had done, but it all seemed so selfish to say aloud. Of course he was happy, but thinking it was bad enough.
The silence fell between them, but it was far from heavy or uncomfortable. In all truth, his concern and presence was much more comforting than she’d anticipated. A small part of her even felt pleased at the brief flicker of fire in his eyes at the idea of her being hurt, like he would easily and willingly be her avenger without being asked. That thought -- of him and Jed fighting because of her -- quickly snuffed out the good feeling.
“Thank you for checking on me,” she murmured after a moment, her voice made quiet by their proximity.
“I wanted to see you,” he said softly, then smirked. “Bridget wouldn’t let me.”
Alice cracked a small smile at that, spreading the fingers of the hand resting on her knee. Bridget had surprised her a little with the sudden flare of motherly concern. She could only imagine the heavily-pregnant woman warding Leo off, all huge and imposing. It filled her with a warm sense of affection toward the other woman.
“That was probably for the best,” she replied finally, a little more serious. “I wasn’t exactly in top form the last few days.”
Seeing that small smile on Alice’s lips at least gave Leo some odd sense of satisfaction. He only wished he could do more. She seemed comfortable there, resting lightly against him, so all he could do was bump his knee playfully against hers. “Like I’d have cared.” He smiled a little himself, but it quickly faded. “I was worried you wouldn’t want to see me.”
Alice turned her head enough to look sideways at him, her brows knit together slightly. She wanted to ask why, but she wasn’t even sure how he would answer, or if she should give him the opportunity. They had both expressed their feelings to each other.
But she’d barely allowed herself to mourn Leo’s first loss before asking Jed to be with her, and it had destroyed them. It would only be made worse if she’d confirmed his fears of her going back to Leo. Take some time, she told herself. Just enjoy this as it is. Don’t ruin it. You’ve ruined everything else.
“Nah,” she said at last.
“Things are a mess,” Leo attempted to explain himself, noting the question in her eyes. “I thought maybe you’d need some space. Or time... or something.” He shrugged helplessly. “Do you?”
There was more to that question than his checking up on her because he was worried about her peace of mind, like Louisa May or Tom, and she knew it. Alice moved the hand that had been resting on her own knee to find his free one, bringing it between them and holding it.
“Not from seeing you, no,” she said quietly. “But I...”
Leo sat up a little, tense, slipping his hand from hers as he shifted to the side so he could look into Alice’s eyes. But? A pained flicker of disappointment flashed in his eyes at that deadly word and he studied her expression, wondering how someone could manage to look so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time.
“But what?” Leo managed. He’d asked for these answers, but suddenly he didn’t want to hear them.
Just seeing his reaction to the unfinished thought left a sour taste in her mouth. “I just don’t want to make things worse. I wanna see you, I wanna...” she swallowed, chewing her lower lip. “I wanna be here with you, but if I go rushing into this... what if we don’t work?”
“Alice, things ain’t gonna get any worse now,” he said, reaching up to brush his thumb along her cheek in reassurance. Her eyes fell closed as she leaned into the little touch. “Only better. We don’t have to rush anything, anyways. We’ve got nothing but time anymore... but I do gotta remind you--” A small, comfortable smile worked at the corners of his lips. “--we worked pretty well before.”
His smile alone sent warmth rushing through her. Would taking it slow really be as simple and easy as he said? But then she remembered Jed when he’d turned on her, accusing her of running back to Leo and forgetting about him. The heart wants what it wants, she mentally countered, borrowing Tom’s turn of phrase and forcing the bad feelings back. If they were slow, if they did things at a reasonable pace, maybe she could find herself again. She didn’t have to be alone through that.
“Slow, huh?” she asked quietly, opening her eyes again to look into his. Leo’s expression softened even more.
“Slow,” he repeated. “Sure.” He already felt that things were falling back into place. It wasn’t going to be easy, but at least there was hope.
He’d been so afraid of losing her, after all that had happened. Alice had every reason to develop a deep resentment. When she’d left without even a note, Leo was sick with worry and hurt. That was karma, he deserved it, and he obviously couldn’t hold it against her. “But if you ever run away again... you’d better take me with you.”
Color rose up into her face, partly in shame. And yet, just the idea of his eager willingness to go with her when Jed had been so quick to dodge even the idea of them living separate from the house filled her with hope. Before she was even really aware of what she was doing, she’d pressed her lips against his, and while the kiss had been completely unexpected Leo didn’t miss a beat in returning it.
Reaching up, he buried his fingers in her hair and leaned into the kiss. She was so warm and soft; everything he’d been missing for so long. The kiss they’d shared in his room before was one of need and passion, but somehow this felt like a confirmation of their feelings for one another. Leo slowly pulled back, just enough to rest his forehead against hers, eyes closed. Her hand slid up to rest against his cheek.
“I promise,” she replied, the words barely a whisper against his mouth.
“Okay,” Leo whispered and opened his eyes to look at her. “Now... tell me you don’t hate yourself.”
Alice exhaled shakily. That was a hard demand so early after everything, but everyone who had spoken to her had gone on about how she was only human, that break-ups were hard, that she hadn’t done anything wrong but try and be happy again. It felt completely selfish, but she couldn’t deny how good it felt to kiss him, to have finally done the one thing she’d wanted to do since he came back. How could she hate herself for that?
“I don’t hate myself,” she repeated, tracing her thumb along the apple of his cheek. “Or you.”
That brought a half-grin to his face and he kissed her again, soft and quick, before his grin widened.
“I don’t hate you, either.”