Roger Llewyn Davies (roger_davies_) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2017-01-23 14:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, char: roger davies, location: other, time: 2009 01 |
Who: Roger Davies and Laura(NPC)
Where: Goa, India
What: Roger's doing his best to run away from his problems
When: Sunday, January 22nd, 2009
Warnings: Language
The woman, a very pretty Asian girl with dark almond eyes, sobbed from bed where she laid naked under the covers clutched to her body. "I just... No, fuck, I'm not like th-" Roger paused, half-way through putting on his shirt and grimaced.
"No...No-no don't do that." He sighed, sounding annoyed. "Don't ruin your post-coital bliss or whatever the hell it is with bullshit guilt."
"Bullshit?!" The woman roared, her pretty face contorting into a mix of rage and regret. "I'm on my honeymoon!" Roger scoffed, head emerging from the neck hole of his shirt and reaching up in an attempt to comb the usually wavy raven hair that had grew into loose, looping curls.
"Some honeymoon."
"Excuse me?" She now stood, still clutching the sheet to her tiny frame. Roger paid her no mind, instead rifled through various alcohols decanted in fancy bottles.
"Oh c'mon. You told me yourself: it's your first day of your honeymoon and your husband decided to go deep sea fishing after," he selected a nice brandy. "And I quote 'he kept chatting up that bikini clad sales slut' so you went to the bar to stave off your loneliness and," he poured two drinks. "Here we are." The woman glared. "Look Lydia,"
"Laura!" She screamed.
"Laura," Roger flinched at the shrillness of her voice. "I'm just saying the doesn't bode well for marriage. Now do you want this drink or not?" Laura stood still, staring at her feet and eyes welling with tears.
"Fuck you." She whispered, raising her head to look at him with a still outstretched arm offering the drink. "You wouldn't know the first thing about marriage." Roger had already began to down the smokey brandy and made a noise of agreement.
"No kidding. The girl I was madly in love with since Hogw- erm, school, married someone else and I'm pretty sure hates me especially after she found out that I, one of her best friends, had been in love with her this whole time. Oh, and she's having a baby." Taking Laura's stillness as a rejection of the drink offer, Roger shrugged and downed it as well. "Then, call me psychic or a legilimens-"
"A wha?"
"-but I'm pretty sure my best friend who was in love with me for all those years I was in love with mine probably hates me too." Laura stared.
"Wow."
"Yeah I know." Another poured drink. "So I figured I'd take a vacation and clear my head."
"And by clearing your head you're banging newly weds and drinking their complimentary alcohol?" Laura raised an eyebrow, sitting back on the bed. Roger shrugged.
"Yeah. Everyone copes in different ways." He sank back onto the bed and sighed. "So, you wanna...?" A fox like grin fought through the subtle look of sadness that had tinted his face. Laura looked him over, considered for a moment and shook her head.
"I don't think I - or any of this - would help you." Her voice was as light and gentle as the touch she laid on his arm. She was right, of course, and Roger heaved a sigh before getting to his feet.
"Yeah." He walked to the beautifully carved imperial wooden door. "Hey Laura? I, erm, I hope everything goes well with your marriage." Roger smiled in a soft, sincere way. Truthfully the last thing he wanted was to hurt another person, especially someone who had gotten married. This was supposed to be the happiest time of their lives. "I mean it." Laura, still wrapped in the blanket and tousled hair stared at him for a moment and nodded.
"I hope things get better with your friends."
Outside the sun was setting off in the distance as a blood red disc coloring the sky a brilliant sort of pink, orange with navy creeping up from behind. The wind whipped at Roger's hair and he moved forward without putting much thought into his destination. Finally, after several minutes, he knelt into the sand and scooped up a handful. The sugar white sand felt soft, warm and slid effortlessly through his fingers. Roger watched as the tiny grains fell haphazardly in a random, disorganized stream into unstructured patterns on the beach.
Maybe Laura was right; none of this had helped stave off the indescribable feeling of regret, guilt, shame and lonliness he felt. Returning to England would be awful but not going back would be even worse. The sun continued to slip below the horizon and above the mom began to shine. Miserably, Roger wondered if Nora and Cho were looking at the same moon back in England. The last bits of sand fell from his hand and he stood, brushed away the last bits and walked back to the hotel. Tomorrow he would check out and go home instead of continue to run.