forbidden (illicitus) wrote in the_colony, @ 2011-01-06 20:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 24, abigail theien, thomas galloway, | abby and tom |
Week 24 - Monday
Characters Tom Galloway and Abby Theien
Location The farmhouse
Summary With the events of the previous night fresh in his mind, Tom seeks out Abby for a conversation he’d meant to have weeks before.
RatingPG
The events of the night before had reminded Tom of something he’d meant to do ever since Greg and his entourage had joined the group. With the thought still fresh in his mind the next day, he made a point to look for Abby as soon as he had a free moment and found her in the laundry room. He knocked on the door frame to get her attention and then stepped through so she had a clear route out to the hall if she got spooked.
“Abby, have you got a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something. Something I should have sat down and done with you when you joined us.”
After snapping a towel out of the damp wash-bin, Abby caught the faint knock and greeting at the door of the laundry room. She glanced up, over the hem she was about to hang on the line. That--didn’t sound exactly promising, and a solid twist of nerves made themselves known in the pit of her stomach.
Still, Abby bit the reflex back. She recognized it as a breed of twitch, now... and though annoying, she really was getting better around the other men on the farm. Tom especially. She gave him a small smile, then went back to her chore. “Sure thing. Whatcha’ need?”
Tom shifted his feet a little and had about as little desire to have the conversation as Abby probably did. Still, better to do it now and make sure she understood than to let it fester, especially with Jed’s antics the night before. “I wanted to let you know that I’m not going to tolerate anyone forcing themselves on anyone else around here. There’s no excuse or justification for it whatsoever, even if the two parties are a couple. If anyone does something that makes you uncomfortable, I want to know about it. Come tell me and I’ll put a stop to it.”
And just like that, Abby was remarkably uncomfortable again. She wasn’t facing him (hanging the towels up required most of her attention), but that initial smile evaporated. Instantly, her thoughts went back to the night before, the reason why she couldn’t sleep--or anyone couldn’t sleep, for that matter. She’d done so well to keep it from her mind today.
The redhead said nothing for a moment, still working through the split attention from her physical task, and the unwanted conversation. Not his fault. Just tryin’ to help: you know this...
Finally, she cleared her throat a little, knowing her voice would’ve cracked if she hadn’t. “‘appreciate it.” Her voice was lower and carried a finality to it, but also uncertainty.
Tom took note of the tone of her voice, and how long it had taken her to respond, but felt he owed it to her and the rest of the group to finish his thought. “If I’m in charge here that makes me responsible for everything that goes on, and I’ll be damned if anyone’s going to mistreat a dog, let alone a woman, under my watch. I’m serious about this Abby. I know it makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to talk about it. I don’t particularly want to talk about it either, but it’s important to me that you understand.”
As much as she was trying to remind herself that yes--this needed to be said, and Tom meant nothing but good in seeking her out (specifically) to bring it up, there was a reason why Abby didn’t talk about where they came from before Greg and before the farm. Her brother had to be the one who informed people, and she could barely stand to be in the room when it happened. Now, Tom was laying it out, bare and raw. She was having difficulty keeping herself from bristling to the defensive.
Call it instinct.
“I got it.” She finally said--almost barked-- after unsetting her jaw. All work on the laundry had stopped, and there was a hardness in her eyes over her shoulder, fixed on his face. Displaced aggression: she knew it wasn’t aimed at him, but it was there anyway. She just wanted the conversation to end.
“Thank you.” Tom acknowledged with a dip of his head that it hadn’t been an easy or pleasant bit of conversation (mostly one sided) to have. “I’m sorry for stirring up not so old wounds, but it needed to be said. I’ll let you alone, but if you need to find me I’ll be around.”
With that unpleasant job done, Tom nodded respectfully toward her and started on his way out of the room.
Abby closed her eyes for a second: the sense of relief that it was over mixed sourly with the realization that she’d spined up so thoroughly. Safe to say, she hated that particular feeling. Guilt wrapped in nerves and rolled in the sharp, broken glass that still littered her mind. A forced breath parted her lips, and she cleared her throat again. Not looking at Tom as he left, but she did manage to speak before he got too far out of ear-shot.
“I really do appreciate it...”
Tom half turned so that he could look at Abby over his shoulder as he walked away. When he saw her watching him, he shot her a smile and raised a hand to his forehead in a wry salute, then turned and continued on his way with a bit more bounce in his step than he’d had before.