Who: George, Agnes and maybe Hallam later When: After Where: The bar What: Some more angst, but also some booze Warnings: ANGST LIKE WHOA
George settled down at a table as soon as he'd mixed a large quantity of Manhattans. He sipped at one, leaning back against the wall as he waited for Agnes. He wished he could go to them both, but he was sure they would need time alone. And in truth, he wasn't sure he could bear to see them together at the moment. Seeing them apart would be trial enough.
It pained him, this estrangement. Ever since he had first met Agnes - no, even before, when he just had Hallam's description of her - he had rejoiced in the love they shared. And once he met her he had loved her too, and been so lucky as to be allowed to share in that love. Ten years they had all been together, or thereabouts. And now... it was all broken. And it may not be able to be fixed.
George felt a surge of anger rise up in him. He was upset with Hallam, he couldn't deny it. The anger never lasted long - he had known him for twenty years and the idea of attempting to live without him was unthinkable. But Hallam had betrayed both of their trust, had practically lied to him every time they spoke of the growing troubles between them. George could forgive him in time, he knew it. Agnes may never forgive him, and George wouldn't blame her.
He sighed, taking another sip of his drink. Agnes was clearly still with him. He hoped it was going well. Or at the very least, not too terribly.