shelley_winters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shelley_winters) wrote2006-12-02 11:54 pm
shelley_winters) wrote2006-12-02 11:54 pm
(no subject)
Seven pm. Past time to have something to eat, really. She'd been distracted.
No, that's a lie. She just hadn't wanted to go back downstairs. But if she desn't eat, she'll get ill, and they're already suspicious at work, and if they send her home, she has to spend more time here. No, no. She has to remain in control. Then she has a chance, if-
I-
Don't-
That's if anything goes wrong. That's it.
So she slips down the stairs, a chilly glance flickering towards the dark head visible on the couch before she heads into the kitchen. Something easy.
No, that's a lie. She just hadn't wanted to go back downstairs. But if she desn't eat, she'll get ill, and they're already suspicious at work, and if they send her home, she has to spend more time here. No, no. She has to remain in control. Then she has a chance, if-
I-
Don't-
That's if anything goes wrong. That's it.
So she slips down the stairs, a chilly glance flickering towards the dark head visible on the couch before she heads into the kitchen. Something easy.
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Does she give a damn?
It'll do.
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"Shall we always take our meals under such an oppressive cloud? At the risk of being trite, I find it a touch depressing."
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"I couldn't care less, Elan," she says, voice cold.
Then she picks up her cup, still staring determinedly at the table.
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"Well, excuse me for not resigning myself to utter misery. Misery may enjoy a hand to hold, but no need to do what you can to make me anymore than I already am."
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Another small mouthful. The quicker she finished, the quicker she can leave.
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"As long as you adjust your attitude of moral superiority accordingly, I suppose I cannot complain."
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Shut up, Elan. Shut up, shut up, shut up.
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"So you will indulge in some cruelty? I cannot stop you."
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"Cruelty? Not talking to you? Poor baby. That's pathetic, Elan."
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"I, who was once the prince of the entire world, am sitting in a small house wearing a bed sheet without anyone but books to assuage my loneliness. I gave you better than that. I am plumbing the depths of pathetic."
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Mental, physical. Some are invisible.
She puts her fork down again, swallowing against nausea. Why should she punish herself just to amuse him? This is her world, hers, and he deserves nothing good, and certainly not to live. But she can't not keep him.
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"In anger, and you have reciprocated admirably in your own."
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"Don't be stupid. You hardly wake up screaming, or-or worse, stay asleep remembering me breaking your bones or burning you or- or..."
She feels sick, and places a careful hand on the table to steady herself.
"I can't even begin to pay back what you've done, so don't you talk to me about cruelty."
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"Have you ever heard the voice of God, Lady Shelley? A voice that crushes you inside your own skull and though the flesh on your knees is burning from the hot rock that you are kneeling on, the feeling is so intense that you can feel neither your knees, nor the blood you are sweating. Until you have stood there, you cannot discuss pain with me."
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"You did that to yourself!" she shouts. "You chose to serve something like that, and then you thought you had the right to hurt everyone else, and laugh, and I hope you burn in hell, you bastard!"
Her chair is knocked to the ground as she stumbles from the room, shuddering with sobs of rage, scrambling up the stairs as her stomach starts to heave.
No, no. What is she doing? What has she brought here? Please, God, help.
It burns.