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 Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 1:47 am
Jordan smiled a little. Permission wasn't too weird a concept when talking about Robert's relationships; the man wasn't an idiot, but he definitely did better when he had a keeper to direct him. Some people were just like that, and it seemed that Mimsy was doing a decent job of steering Robert when necessary. "Tell her thanks for me," he said. He picked a small bar of soap in a plastic package out of his bag, one of the soaps that could be found washed up on the beach if you looked long enough. "I've got soap. I'll just be a minute." He took the soap and towel and clothes into the bathroom. His mind drifted as he showered. Robert was the kind of person who needed steering, and from time to time Jordan had helped with that task. It was something he did; he was the sort of person who could direct others when entrusted with that task, and maybe that was why he ended up hanging out with people who did need that. Rep -- no. Jordan put his head under the flow of water to rinse soap out of his hair and turned his thoughts deliberately away from the subject, feeling the raw stab of fresh hurt all over again. When he emerged from the bathroom, he was mostly dry and dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair tied back and his feet bare. He'd left his wet clothes hanging over the top of the shower to dry. Robert, he observed, was staring at a blank wall where the TV had been and grinning. Jordan looked at the wall, then back to Robert. "What's on tonight?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 2:17 am
Robert's position had changed from lounging, to intensely leaning in, with his hands clenched on his knees. It was no wonder Jordan understood he was imagining television, when he found him like that. Robert's overactive imagination was no secret to the man. But it was the fact that he played along, that made Robert turn his head up and smile a grateful smile. "Seahawks versus Broncos! It's the big game!" In fact the big game wasn't for a few days yet, but he was playing it all out in his mind. He turned back to the blank wall, after twisting to make room on the couch, and began to paint a picture for his friend. "Manning is having a hell of a game, nobody could have predicted how good he'd be - I mean he's good but this is absurd, he's trouncing the Seahawks, and they're playing an amazing game too but I don't know something's gotten into him. You just missed a 3 yard touchdown pass to Walker that I think - and this is just me - I think pretty much destroys the Seahawks chances. The commentators were rooting for the Seahawks the whole time but ******** Manning just - God." He'd started to get overexcited, and when he looked at Jordan again, he realized that he was rambling - and it was providing an excellent possible distraction. He was good at distraction! "Hold on." He pulled out a pen from his pocket, clicked it, and ran over to the wall to draw out plays. "See, Manning's coming up from the side like this and nobody seems to have the power to stop him before he gets that throw off - perfect ******** throws this game, boss, like you'd think he's a Hunter he's throwin' so good - and then Walker's on the line and everyone's coming for him but he's got the ball and WHAM -" He started scribbling lines all over the wall. "UNSTOPPABLE!"
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Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 2:26 am
Jordan sat down on the couch, his small smile getting more genuine as Robert excitedly described the game he was imagining. It had been a while since he'd watched football; he'd never been a fanatic like some of the guys he knew, but Robert's genuine enthusiasm was contagious, and his inventions were a good distraction from things Jordan didn't really want to think about. Baseball wouldn't have been a safe subject, but football was, and Jordan leaned his elbows on his knees, visualizing the "game." "They're putting up a good fight," he agreed, "but I just don't think the Hawks have a chance after that."
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Posted: Fri Jan 31, 2014 8:24 pm
"NOT EVEN A LITTLE I MEAN LOOK AT THE DEFENSE THE BRONCOS HAVE GOING WHEN SEAHAWKS HAVE THE BALL-" He stopped himself, realizing that Jordan was playing along with his make believe commentary of the Superbowl, and grinned a wide and crooked grin at his best friend. Then he went back to drawing on the wall, happily defacing the place he'd once called home. "And that's why I think everyone's wrong about the Seahawks winning, this Sunday." He'd been talking for a while, but soon enough, he came back to reality - a reality where he was just drawing plays on a wall, and the Superbowl wasn't for days. A reality where he probably wouldn't get to see it until much later, because his job was to be here, working non-stop. A reality where his best friend was nurturing a broken heart in the same room where he'd torn his own to shreds once. Robert popped the cap on the pen, and returned to the couch, balling himself up tightly and staring at Jordan. He didn't know what to say, because he never really did. But he tried. That was all he ever could do. "I just want you to know something. Whatever happened, and whatever happens next, ain't gonna change the truth. And the truth of the matter is, even if you don't believe this right now, you are the best guy in the world. The best. And you're gonna be happy. You know it's true, boss." He put his hands on his hips. "Because I don't know how to lie to you."
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Posted: Sat Feb 01, 2014 12:05 pm
"You ought to be a commentator," Jordan said, chuckling. "Flawless analysis." Robert's statement caught him by surprise, and he gave his friend a small and shaky smile. "Thanks. I -- " He took a deep breath and swallowed the pain down again as it rose up in a silent wave. "I'm not always a good person. But thanks, man. You believing in me, that means a lot to me." He looked down at his hands, at his ring, then back up at Robert. "I'm glad you're happy, dude."
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:11 am
Even now, at what seemed like his lowest point, Jordan was happy for Robert. He was an idiot if he didn't see just how good of a person he really was, but Robert refrained from repeating himself - because he knew it wouldn't help. "I'll always believe in you, boss. That's my job! Came with the title." Though best friend was a position that came with no pay, the benefits were great. He knew he'd always have Jordan rooting for him. "Besides. You always believe in me. I just return the favor." He caught the glance Jordan gave to the ring on his finger, and his own hand twitched with memory. He hadn't worn his ring in so long that the faint band of skin had already returned to being indistinguishable from the rest of his hand. Wedding rings were weird things, he thought. He sort of missed idly turning his. He would have rubbed the finger where the ring once was, but he knew Jordan would notice, and refrained. "I am happy." He told his friend. "I don't know how I managed it, but - you know something, boss? I went through so much s**t to get here. So much pain, and so much good too, but, I never thought I'd be here." He pushed himself back against the couch, and rested his head on the back of it. His eyes looked distant, as he recounted just how unlikely his current situation was. "And yet, this is where I ended up. I don't regret anything." His eyes flickered over to his friend. "Do you?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:32 am
Jordan gave the question careful consideration. Did he regret anything? Plenty of things, yes; but did he regret anything enough to want to have done something else? Maybe. "I regret losing track of myself," he said after a moment. "That really ******** things up."
He stared at the scribbled diagrams on the wall without seeing them. "I don't regret what I've been through. But I wish it hadn't meant hurting people I care about."
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Posted: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:32 pm
Robert let out a sharp sigh and nodded in avid agreement. "Okay. Yeah. I'm totally with you on that one." He didn't regret his life, but he damn sure regretted how much Petra was suffering because of him. He would give anything to not have hurt her, but the idea of never loving her - never being with her - was too sad to think of. She was a huge part of his life, and it was a good life. Still, she didn't deserve all the pain he'd put her through. If he had to change anything, the only thing he would have changed was that he wished she'd been the one to leave him, instead. Maybe her job had put a distance between them, and she wanted to focus on that. Or maybe she could have just gotten sick of him - Petra would never have left him. He was the weak one. Not her. "Yeah." He repeated sadly. "I wish that too."
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 4:07 am
And now he'd managed to bring Robert's mood crashing down. That was just great. Jordan sighed and put his head in his hands. "I don't suppose you have any beer stashed."
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 7:35 pm
Robert let out a quiet laugh at the question. "I ********' wish! Though I think she knew if she left any alcohol in this-" He winced when he realized how easily he was talking about Petra. As if things were normal. As if nothing had changed. "Well. I'll go check." He got up, and lumbered over to the small mini kitchen area, opened up the fridge, and was faced with emptiness as expected. "Nope. Cleaned out. Not even condiments." Who had cleaned the fridge out this completely? Had she really gone through all that trouble, or.. "Wwwait a minute.." He closed the fridge, and reached up to the top shelf above it, hanging on the wall. It was the one only he was tall enough to reach, and - sure enough, inside was a bottle of vodka. It wasn't beer.. but it was something. "I've got vodka. You picky?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 03, 2014 11:35 pm
Robert cut himself off, and Jordan understood. It was too easy, and it hurt. He'd never doubted that Robert loved Petra, but if he had, that quick flicker of pain would have convinced him. Jordan stared at his hands as Robert moved to check the kitchen. What was he doing here? He should have stayed at the cave. He couldn't have stayed. He wanted to be in his own bed, but he was alone, and the wide stretch of unoccupied sheets would have kept him miserably awake. There wasn't anywhere he could be that he wanted to be, and that was why he'd asked about alcohol, and that was a really stupid decision, because it was a temporary solution at best. But he couldn't make himself care that he was being unreasonable. Apparently not enough, he thought in response to the question, with a bitterness that startled him. "Nah," he said. "Let me go get something to put it in." He dug his wallet out of his bag.
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 1:44 am
"Sweeet." Robert felt much less guilty about drinking vodka if they weren't going to drink it straight up. It felt less... desperate. He brought it over while Jordan was checking his wallet, and put the bottle down. Then he returned to the kitchen, and kept searching while Jordan went on his errand. Surely there was something.. "Why is there always a box of crackers in a cupboard no matter how long nobody's lived there?" He pulled out the saltines, and checked them. "Unopened too. What the ******** class="quote"> prolixity
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 3:27 am
There were a few bills in his wallet. Enough, anyway. "Be right back," Jordan said, and headed down the hall to the lounge. He returned shortly with two bottles of Sprite and a couple of bottles of water, and put the haul on the coffee table. "Kinda ghetto, but what the hell," he said, as lightly as he could manage. "I think saltines are spontaneously generated by empty cupboards," he commented.
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 4:24 am
Robert had just miraculously found glasses that weren't broken, when Jordan returned. He grinned and held up his find, just as Jordan put down his. "Ghetto is the best! This is what I'm talkin' 'bout." He set down the glasses and crackers on the coffee table, and slammed back down into the couch. But then he realized what Jordan said about the saltines, and had a sudden urge to go and check if there was a new box yet. Saltine fairies. He wanted to believe. He grabbed one of the bottles of Sprite, cracked it open, and poured an inch or two into the glass. Then came the vodka.. and quite a bit more than an inch or two was poured in.
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Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 7:19 am
Jordan's eyebrows went up as Robert poured the drinks, but he made no complaints. Why the hell not? The purpose of the exercise was to forget what was hurting so much, and this would do it faster. His metabolism would burn through it. Ferros stirred, advancing a flicker of concern, but likewise didn't complain. He would make sure that his hunter drank enough water before sleeping; he wasn't going to try to discourage this course of action. They peeled open a package of saltines and ate a few, a token gesture more than anything, then reached for the glass. The drink burned its way down, and Jordan couldn't help a grimace. He shot a mildly embarrassed look at Robert. "That'll work," he said.
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