InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Fan fiction: my anti-drug"

Eddie Carmichael (the_doxyboy) wrote in wished,
@ 2010-09-09 21:03:00

Entry tags:

!2003: 09, !incomplete, eddie carmichael, maisie cattermole

late night rendezvous
[WHO] Eddie & Maisie
[WHEN & WHERE] 9pm, Eddie's flat.
[WHY] Because Eddie's been gone for a while and he wants to make it up to Maisie.
[RATING] Low-medium/incomplete.

Eddie took a step back and admired the set-up he had created. Maybe this was going a little over the top, but he figured it was okay, because he himself was a little over the top and a little more couldn't hurt anyone. It wasn't like he had really gone terribly far out of his way; just cleaned up and moved some furniture around, washed down the countertops in the kitchen, wiped down the windows, and vacuumed.

There was much he had to discuss with Maisie. They were.... complicated, to say the least, and he didn't really know why but it bothered him that it felt like he should be doing more. It had been years since he had really been attached to a girl, yet here he was, feeling guilty for not writing her enough or not trying harder to see her while he had been taking care of Catherine. Maybe it was just his own sense of justice--which wasn't as rigid, and was in fact very free-flowing, especially compared to that of many Gryffindors--that made him do what he was doing.

He ducked into the bathroom and made sure he didn't look a hot mess. After deciding that he looked all right, he re-entered the living room and waited. At precisely eight thirty that evening, an owl had been sent to Maisie telling her that he would be ready by the time she got there. He sat down in one of the many comfy chairs around the coffee table and checked his clock. Eight fifty-seven. Perfect.

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the_doxyboy
2010-09-26 11:50 pm UTC (link)

Ah, if only his remarkable cleverness would kick in right now and give him a quick escape route. But in his heart of hearts he knew, indubitably, that such an escape route did not, would not, could not exist. He inhaled and exhaled again, with great control, slowly, staring past Maisie out through the hallway, as if willing a distraction to spontaneously exist that would get him out of this situation. Of the many potential events Eddie had a list of prepared excuses or explanations for, this was not one of them.

In this moment the realization came upon Eddie--although he acknowledged it with great stubbornness and resistance--that he probably would have had to let his secret out eventually. But this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, and like a child he wanted to continue insisting that this be a tale never told. He continued flipping back and forth between the pictures, a small part of him wanting to go back to that night with Heather and that god damned fuckface Mark, and knock the bastard out before he had a chance to appear that night.

Yet another part of him wanted to confide this secret in Maisie, for he knew her well enough to know that she could be trusted--but he found himself unable to speak the words. "I have not spoken of her, or to her, in many years," was all he managed to say. No; if this secret was to be excavated from his soul then it would have to be dragged out by force, and the force required for such an action was not something that Eddie possessed right now. It was not something he wanted to possess right now.

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