Who: Polaris & Britannic When: Sunday, March 16th, 2008 (evening) Where: Brian's room What: a talk Status: in progress Rating: PG
He wasn't sure the time of day. The curtains had been drawn tight, shades turned vertically behind them. Brian could recall a few details from the night of the attack, and he was, for the most part, ashamed of himself. But more so, he was worn out. Emotionally, physically, mentally. He felt spent. It had killed him to speak with Edana about 'them'. He didn't feel fit to be anyone's friend, brother, role model... let alone lover. He still carried the guilt from the months leading up to their relationship. He'd been a hound, and he was fully aware. Those thoughts piled on top of all the feelings he'd had that made him react the way he did in the battle were driving him fairly crazy.
So, there he lay, stripped down to his jolly red jockey shorts in the center of his bed with the bedclothes askew and half his pillows strewn about on the floor. Piotr had looked in on him a few times. Probably more than that, of course, but Brian had spent most of his time asleep. He wasn't sure what he needed, but laying about in his misery sure felt right.
"Brian?" Lorna's voice was firm as she knocked on the door to the boy's room. Piotr had kept her informed of the blond man's state (she'd checked in on him herself a few times). She understood grief and misery well, but one could only wallow in self-pity for so long before someone had to kick their butt to get them moving again. Not bothering to wait for a response, Polaris opened the door and stepped into the dark room, fully prepared to give her former pupil a stern talking to.
When her eyes took in Brian's sprawled out form however, she sighed deeply. He looked so wretched. "Brian." she spoke more kindly this time, taking a seat on the large bed next to him. She reached out and gently stroked the soft (though dirty) curls on his head, in a comforting gesture. "You can't keep this up, love."
Brian's head lifted from the pillow at the noise beyond the door. He recognized the voice, of course. His brow knitted together with worry. She sounded like she meant business. Something might've been wrong. When Lorna entered, he let his head rest back against the soiled pillowcase and closed his eyes. She was just in to see how low he'd sunk. But then she touched his head and he let his chest rise and fall with a sigh.
"If I keep getting callers like you," he began, and let out a grunt of a cough, "I'll try to keep it up as long as I might." He didn't smile, but normally he might have. He closed his eyes again and moved to cover himself with some of the loose ends of the blankets on his bed. "I'm so ashamed of how I acted." Brian blinked into the darkness and finally shifted his gaze to Lorna's green eyes. "Painfully ashamed." He'd behaved like an animal and a madman. "Haven't gotten to thank you, though, for stepping in."