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Friday April 3rd 2009
Who: Godric and Wesley
What: Pacing
Where: All over the house
When: About 1am
Rating: TBD
So, Godric thought as he made his ninetieth lap around the kitchen, this must be what addiction feels like. The effects of the potion had worn off a few hours ago, and after laying in bed for forty minutes overthinking about all the things he'd done that day, Godric had gotten up and just started pacing the house. He had cleaned the play room, checked in on children, swept the kitchen, made a batch of hard boiled eggs, read a chapter in a book, went over his leson plan (again), and even made Blake lunch for the following day. While his hands had been busy, his mind had been racing. This potion was dangerous because it made him careless, it made him allow the students to speak to him in a way that he normally wouldn't, it made him stray from his lesson plan, it made him act completely unlike himself.
But, at the same time, he wanted it. He wanted to just be the person that the potion turned him into. He wanted to not care what anyone thought about him, he wanted to just let things go, to not have worry and guilt cloud up his head. He wanted to be okay with Hope and Wesley and not think about all the ways it could and probbaly would go wrong. He wanted to be fine with kissing Blake in public and holding his hand. But his brain overcomplicated everything and the potion simplised it, and it was impossible not to be addicted to that.
He knew it was bad, though, so he was trying to resist driving to the school and just getting it, drinking it down before anyone woke up and could see him like he was now, dishevelled and frantic and pacing like a man with a guilty conscience. He knew that he should give it up now, while he still could. While he still had the self control to do it. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and Godric couldn't keep his eyes from going back to his car keys that were hanging on the peg by the door.
What: Pacing
Where: All over the house
When: About 1am
Rating: TBD
So, Godric thought as he made his ninetieth lap around the kitchen, this must be what addiction feels like. The effects of the potion had worn off a few hours ago, and after laying in bed for forty minutes overthinking about all the things he'd done that day, Godric had gotten up and just started pacing the house. He had cleaned the play room, checked in on children, swept the kitchen, made a batch of hard boiled eggs, read a chapter in a book, went over his leson plan (again), and even made Blake lunch for the following day. While his hands had been busy, his mind had been racing. This potion was dangerous because it made him careless, it made him allow the students to speak to him in a way that he normally wouldn't, it made him stray from his lesson plan, it made him act completely unlike himself.
But, at the same time, he wanted it. He wanted to just be the person that the potion turned him into. He wanted to not care what anyone thought about him, he wanted to just let things go, to not have worry and guilt cloud up his head. He wanted to be okay with Hope and Wesley and not think about all the ways it could and probbaly would go wrong. He wanted to be fine with kissing Blake in public and holding his hand. But his brain overcomplicated everything and the potion simplised it, and it was impossible not to be addicted to that.
He knew it was bad, though, so he was trying to resist driving to the school and just getting it, drinking it down before anyone woke up and could see him like he was now, dishevelled and frantic and pacing like a man with a guilty conscience. He knew that he should give it up now, while he still could. While he still had the self control to do it. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and Godric couldn't keep his eyes from going back to his car keys that were hanging on the peg by the door.
