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 Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2016 8:26 pm
Hitch had done some sleep-overs, in the brief spans of time he'd had friends - more like friends out of proximity than any actual closeness, but still. They'd been fun. There were always a lot of movies he wouldn't have watched otherwise, and good, greasy food he didn't really get to have all that much at home. Then his mom had caught him with another boy whose pants were around his ankles and yeah, there hadn't been any more of those slumber parties after that. Girls were 'begrudgingly' allowed to stay, although he could tell his mother was always just pleased when he bought one home.
Then he'd started living with Tolliver and it'd just - it was so easy and so comfortable it felt almost like having one of those fun slumber parties, only better because - not just because he was sleeping with him, but because it was the first time in all his life he'd actually had a friend like this. He wasn't exaggerating when he said Tolliver was his best friend.
It'd been like a party every night, yeah - and he'd wondered sometimes when it could finally be time to shove his clothes and toothbrush in a bag and call it a day.
...
He didn't want to go home.
Hitch adjusted the water clumsily, first too hot (yelps echoed through the loft) then too cold again, until finally he settled somewhere little better than lukewarm and just went with it. Some part of him thought it felt good, finally standing under water and getting clean - but it didn't really help the heaviness that'd seeped into every inch of his body, the pounding of his head, any of that.
In a span of time that felt too long and too short, he finally shut off the water and fumbled for his towel, drying himself the best he could before looping the thing about his waist. The gauze was gone from his hands, and although his knuckles weren't bleeding - they were still split, and they were looking very much angry.
He sat down on the toilet, head in hands - and he waited.
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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2016 8:44 pm
She came back down from the loft not too long after, and uttered a "Knock, knock---" Before she just strolled into the small bathroom, pretty much forgetting to give Hitch any kind of respect and courtesy when it came to, yanno, showering and the stuff after and what not. In one hand was a large Outlander shirt, and in the other was a pair of pajama flannel pants, each item held above her head proudly as if they were trophies (oh, and they were, espcially that Outlander shirt---she was just pleased as punch she could put someone into an Outlander shirt). "Here you are---" Olga presented the clothes to him. "They're mine but---yanno, since I'm bigger than you---I'm pretty sure they'll fit---you're pretty slim and---" Well, now she was staring at him. "Oh---no wash board abs for you!" She laughed. "Man, Hitch, I can't do my laundry off those things---not like one of my friend's brother--- oh my gosh---" Her cheeks went red just thinking about it. "ANYWAYS---Shirt and pants---the pants will probably be really long on you, so you can just roll them up---WOAH!" Olga's eyes went wide. "Hitch! What did you do to your hand!?" She dropped the t-shirt and pants onto his lap, and then rummaged around for a first aid kit.
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Posted: Wed Feb 10, 2016 11:29 pm
He knew nothing about Outlander. He knew nothing about a lot of things, and he didn't really even bother to read it. Hitch just looked up and acknowledged her with a nod, and even if he looked better after a shower - he still looked all kinds of vacant, eyes rimmed red still and dark circles under his eyes. Honestly, he didn't even care that much how much or little she saw of him.
Or he didn't until she commented on it, and that was when a hint of color seeped into his cheeks, his gaze dropping to his lap as he idly picked lint off the towel. Oh, no wash board abs for you! She was laughing. On some level he knew she didn't mean it like that, but all he could hear was his mother's voice in his head, <******** Logan, you're so ********' thin - put some goddamn muscle on. They're gonna start thinkin' you're a pansy. Where's my lady killer, huh? A joke, just a joke, just a joke that wasn't really a joke at all. Too short too thin too gay --
"Gee. Sorry I ain't manly enough for ya, " he remarked dryly without looking up, even if he immediately felt a pang of guilt for it, remembering Olga's bloodied nose and the warmth of her coat.
Then, he looked up again, blearily, surprised by the sudden exclamation. Hitch looked back and forth and then finally down at the hand in question. Then, he snorted and shrugged it off. "I hit somethin'?" A closer look at his hands said it hadn't been the first time; his knuckles were rough, bumpy with the scars of too many outbursts. "No big."
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2016 5:06 am
Olga blinked, pausing in her search for the first aid kit, and then reached over and pinched Hitch's stomach. It was indeed, a small bathroom and Olga had long arms. "You're not sorry." She grinned at him. "You don't wanna be---" Here she made some very emphatic air quotes, "manly" End quote. "For me, anyways." She went back to her search, made an 'ah ha' sound when she found it, and pulled it out. She shifted on her heel, spinning around so that she was facing the young man now, and kneeling before him. Olga snorted as she opened up the kit, and procured an alcohol pad. "Um, yeah, it's a big, Hitch, don't you try waving this off---also---don't drink this---" She teased him again, waving the pad a bit before she took his hand in her own, holding onto his fingers and wiped the pad across the red. "Don't worry---" She assured him, "I'm pretty competent at basic first aid! My family has a cattle ranch out in the country, so we all learned how to patch up cuts and gashes that aren't squirting blood, since, yanno, the hospital was a really far ways away."
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 1:54 am
It was completely inappropriate timing - but it wasn't like - no, okay, somewhere Olga might suspect from the way the chase had gone down on the rooftop that night - no matter how miserable and shitty he was feeling, it didn't stop Logan Hitchcock from being aggravatingly ticklish, twitching and sniggering at the pinch. He made a move as if to swat her hand away, but it was already gone by then, so he just shot her the most sour of looks he could muster. Whether or not she was right.
He would've loved to have quipped some like how he was drunk, not stupid, at the alcohol pad - but given how many ******** stupid things he'd done over the last few days, he couldn't have blamed her, even if she was serious. At first when the pad touched his knuckles, he hissed, but quickly bit it back. It was less a matter of pride and more a matter of habit. Suck it up, Logan, it's not that bad. The voice in his head was not his own.
"Cattle ranch?" he echoed, dully, but at least responding, glancing up at her through his still wet locks of hair. "You grow up there?" She didn't feel like a small town girl. - or, no, maybe she did. For all her confidence, she was a lot kinder than the people he'd known growing up. More patient, too. Too patient.
He leaned back a bit, fidgeting as she cleaned his knuckles, then fidgeting with his towel to make sure it stayed where it was supposed to. "Mom was a nurse." Hitch wasn't really sure why he said it. "Busy, though. Never picked up nothin'."
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 5:00 am
"Mhm!" Olga was as gentle as she could be with applying the pad, but thorough. "Out in Wyoming none the less~" Her voice purposefully took on a stereotypical country drawl as she said it, and she smiled as she tossed the alcohol pad away, and then went to retrieve from gauze pads from her kit. Her tongue poked out in concentration as she ripped open a package, and her black eyes darted up to Hitch, her brows rising in interest. "Oh yeah? That's cool---yeah---I always hear that nurses are super busy and have the longest hours---" She got the package open, placed it to the side, and then reached for a small container. She opened it, grabbed the pad, applied some of the salve to it, and then placed the container aside. Olga carefully laid the pad across his torn up knuckles, pressing down around the edges to make sure it'd stay in place. "What does she do now?" She asked, since the way he had said nurse was in the past tense, now working on unwrapping a gauze roll to wrap his knuckles and hand with.
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Posted: Fri Feb 12, 2016 5:21 am
"Wyoming... never would've pegged you, " he mumbled idly, flexing and unflexing the fingers on his other hand. Later he could say it was because he was drunk, but really, his next question could've just as easily been asked when he was sober: "Is cow tippin' really a thing?" Really, he was a city boy, through and through; what'd he know?
"Nnn. She was always pretty tired - she did her best, though."
It wasn't really so bad when she pressed the pad with the salve to his knuckles; actually, it was sort of nice, and he made a grumbling noise in the back of his throat, shutting his eyes. He did not open them as he answered, tone unchanged bar maybe a little quieter than before, "Nothin', now. Died last year."
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 9:54 am
Olga laughed at that. "How come?" She finished unwrapping the rolled, and pressed one end on top of the pad, and then worked on rolling it around Hitch's knuckles. "Though I'm also curious about where you think I would come from!" She grinned a bit, but her expression fell at the news of his mom. "Oh. Sorry about that---what happened?" Because she was ever so curious, despite the sad subject matter. "Got, um, a dad in the picture, or is he gone, too?"
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 6:52 pm
"I don't know~, " Hitch grunted, shrugging his shoulders in an idle way. "You're all ********' fashionable an' edgy an' s**t. I could see you rockin' Manhattan or Chicago or somethin' easy. I dunno." Which was basically what he just said; but to be fair he was sort of both tired and drunk. "An' you didn't like, freak the ******** out or whatever when I said I had a..."
He kind of just let that thread die there; he really didn't feel like bringing Tolliver up again. Even so, it got him back to thinking of his fiance, and darkness settled back across his features. It didn't exactly dissipate when it came to his mother, either, one thing just rolling into another. "She was sick. Couldn't figure out what the ******** was wrong 'til it was too late to do nothin', so she died. ********' pieces of s**t doctors, " and he didn't exactly say it with fire behind his voice, but more and tried and true weariness, his other hand flailing upwards and then dropping clumsily back down into his lap again.
A hint of a smile, although whether it was a genuine one or a bitter one, settled across his face. "No ********' idea. Congrats, Olga - you're lookin' at a ********' bonafide b*****d." He laughed, although it didn't totally reach his eyes. "Used to pretend it was Layne Staley though, like when I was a kid." He used to kind of imagine his mom and him getting swept off and taken away in some limo or something to go hang out and go on tour with them or something. Then he'd died and that dream sort of went with it. That was life, though.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 7:33 pm
Olga laughed, delighted at Hitch's ideas. "Man, you make me sound way more awesome than I really am." She grinned at him. As he enlightened her though, Olga's expression fell into one of sympathy. "Ah---I'm sorry, Hitch." Man. She just couldn't even imagine, and she knew she was fortunate, lucky, and grateful that she had a healthy mom back at home and a healthy dad who had always been there. Her expression then twisted. "Hey---there's nothing wrong with that---well, yanno, except that your dad wasn't there for you, but that's no way your fault." She smiled at the Layne Staley bit though, and then remember that, hey, she was supposed to be wrapping up his hand. She started a bit at the realization, and then did just that. She went back to wrapping up his hand, wrapping around the knuckles and even went so far as to do one pass at the base of each finger---so that the wrapping would be very secure. She tucked the end, closed up the first aid kit, and then stood. "Hey---put those clothes on, alright?" She gestured to the Outlander shirt and the PJ bottoms. "Then come on out and we'll eat! I'll slave over the stove and whip up some scrambled eggs and toast for you---" She paused, "And well, since this is my first slumber party here in D.C.---I'll even bust out the bacon!" She winked and flashed him a thumbs up. "Just for you!" She then waved. "Okay, get dressed! I'm going to get started!" With that, she darted out of the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 7:45 pm
"Maybe you're just more awesome than you think you are." It didn't have the playful air it would have if he'd been himself, but that just made it seem more earnest - the words may not have been the most elaborate, but the intent was there, no matter how tired he sounded.
Sympathy fell too close to pity for him, and he kept his gaze turned at his lap for that - because even if he'd been robbed of some measure of shame, even if he didn't react as violently as he would have, those kinds of looks still made him squirm. He just snorted lightly at the whole not your fault thing, because ******** knew how many times he'd heard that line. No, his dad being absent was no fault of his - but his being there at all, what his mom went through to keep him -
He flexed his injured hand almost curiously, like he was surprised at how well Olga had done. Or maybe that she'd even noticed or cared at all. He meant to say 'thanks', and the look was there, but the word just didn't quite make it out.
His stomach rumbled at the mention of food in spite of himself, and honestly, given he'd just been vomiting in a ******** alley, he wasn't totally sure how food was going to go down. But Hitch knew he was hungry, too, and maybe he was just hungry and drunk enough to say '******** it' and let the fates take him where they would.
Again, he meant to say 'thank you' or something, anything - but she was already gone, and that left him alone with a pile of clothes and his own thoughts. That wasn't where he wanted to be. So, quickly, maybe a little too quickly, he slipped on what she'd given him. They hung too long, and even if he made an attempt to roll the pant legs at least, the clothes still did a stellar job of making him look small.
Instead of a thanks, though, when he slipped out, the first thing tentative out of his mouth was: "Your nose...?"
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Posted: Sat Feb 13, 2016 8:08 pm
Olga was standing at the tiny stove when Hitch came out, staring at the pan that was getting hot on the burner. She had all the ingredients out on the counter nearby, and was musing in her own thoughts when his voice broke her out of it. "My nose...?" She snapped her head to him, and couldn't help but grin with delight at seeing him wearing the Outlander shirt. Even if he didn't know what it was. Seeing someone else wear it just filled her with joy. It also appeared she had forgotten entirely about having a bloody nose, as she wracked her brain. "Oh!" She reached up to touch underneath on reflex, and then looked at her fingertips. No blood came back, so Olga gave him a fox eyed grin and flashed him a thumbs up---with a spatula in that hand as well. "Right as rain!" She assured him. "Also---" Olga grabbed a water bottle from the counter she had pulled out, and held it out to him. "Drink up! Dinner---really late dinner---" Her brows knitted. "Super early breakfast!? Will be ready before you know it! You can also bring one of my computer chairs over if you want somewhere to sit!" She waved a hand in the direction of her desk, where there were two computer chairs.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 7:42 am
No visible damage now - some small measure of tension slipped out of his always too-tight shoulders when he saw she at least wasn't bleeding anymore. Although it didn't rule out bruises. He might've bruised up her face real good for all he knew. That'd have to wait for later though, if he was even still there to see it.
How she was still being so nice to him after all this was kind of beyond him. Like she was cheerfully cooking for a friend instead of - whatever the ******** he was even supposed to be anymore.
Water, though. Water was a funny thing. Hitch took it easily enough, fumbling with it between his fingers as he grunted out a 'thanks'. It was the kind of thing you didn't know how bad you needed it until you tasted it sometimes - and that's just how it was with Hitch then, going from mild interest to guzzling about half the ******** thing down in the blink of an eye, and aching for more. Shouldn't have been all that surprising considering how he'd been going at it the last few days, but -
With hardly a word, he went ahead and tugged over the computer chair, sitting spread legged and somewhere between tense and too relaxed, winding his fingers through his hair before he effectively polished off the water. Good. But not enough.
"It's called brinner."
Said so matter-a-factly as he held up the empty water bottle with a frown.
"Got 'nother one?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2016 8:27 pm
The pan was hot, and to it butter was added. It sizzled away, and it was then Olga opened up the package of bacon and peeled the strips apart before throwing them in there. She had half an ear on Hitch, and was pleased when she heard the sound of the computer chair being rolled in her direction. At the suggestion as to what this meal was called, she let out a peal of delighted laughter. "Approved! I stamp so much approval over that---" She paused, heard the question, and then looked away from the bacon. "Oh---wow! You really demolished that, huh?" She beamed though, pleased that he was getting some water into his system. Hydration and all that! "Yeah---One second---" She left the pan she was attending to and leaned over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. She then leaned over to Hitch, and placed both of bottles of the edge of the counter nearest to him. "Go for it, man!" She encouraged, and went back to attending the bacon, wondering if now was a good time to ask about his boyfriend---or if now should just be one of those times where they just didn't talk about it at all. Hrm.
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Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2016 4:45 am
It smelled good. Hitch let his eyes drift shut for a minute at the sound and scent of butter and bacon sputtering in the pan, and in that moment was torn between savoring the experience of having someone else cook for him and longing to be back at home doing the same for Tolliver. He'd been one of the only people Hitch cooked for besides his mom, and Fritz, that one time - he'd probably hated it anyway, he didn't know why he'd tried so hard to make him something. Tolliver was one thing but -
The way Celsus had looked at him on the swing.
Cerussite's lips on his ring finger.
Why did every train of thought just take him back?
He murmured another thanks as he took a second bottle, and he didn't know if he wanted to talk about it or not - but not quite drop-dead drunk, and not nearly sober either, Hitch kind of felt like he owed her some semblance of an explanation for a night she'd ended up with a bloody nose and a drunk man hogging her bacon and water. It still didn't make it easier to say it, both because he was ashamed (of himself), angry (at who?), and - and a lot of things.
"What would you do, " he asked, fingering the condensation on the bottle, tracing lines and making small droplets, "if someone did somethin' ********' stupid for your sake?"
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