the curtains flew, then he appeared
Oct. 29th, 2010 04:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
confidencemanThe metal of the gun which he gripped in his hands was cool, though it wouldn't remain that way for long. Firearms were a necessary evil. If a man was lucky, he wouldn't ever have to pull the trigger on anyone, would live a full life without knowing how gunpowder smelled or the way that a gun came to life after a shot fired, surface hot to the touch. It wasn't the type of weapon that one could use with their eyes closed, too much kick back, like it was telling the user to remember very well what he or she was doing right then. But he didn't need that reminder. No, even as his mind reeled in circles and his breath held the heavy scent of whiskey on the tip of his tongue, he knew the weight of the gun in his hand, felt his feet drag as he slowly carried himself up that staircase.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn that he heard her speaking in hushed tones to someone. With that, he thought ruefully, it was like she was sealing her own death sentence. Not that he minded when she talked to other people. He wasn't that kind of possessive, fingers weaving through endless curls of hair, no. But he was a man, and she was his wife, and so there were certain things that any decent wife wasn't supposed to do. Maybe he could have forgiven her for transgressions, admitted that he could have been a better husband, better father, and a better man, but she had signed away all that they had to their name.
There was nothing left to build from.
Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn that he heard her speaking in hushed tones to someone. With that, he thought ruefully, it was like she was sealing her own death sentence. Not that he minded when she talked to other people. He wasn't that kind of possessive, fingers weaving through endless curls of hair, no. But he was a man, and she was his wife, and so there were certain things that any decent wife wasn't supposed to do. Maybe he could have forgiven her for transgressions, admitted that he could have been a better husband, better father, and a better man, but she had signed away all that they had to their name.
There was nothing left to build from.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-11-26 06:33 am (UTC)He just felt broken. Maybe what he needed more than anything else was someone to sit him down and force him to deal. Not to let him fall back to bad habits that were resurfacing more than they had in months now, the impulses that told him to run and not look back. His jaw grew taut, refusing to let him speak, taking a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah I know where to find you," he said quietly with a careful nod, walking the both of them toward the Compound, wishing that he had a positive way of venting his frustrations.