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Monthly Archives: July 2013
The Three Fountains
Humphrey was fortunate; she knew the sense of him in her mind, and didn’t scream when he grabbed her. Too many things had her pulse pounding in her throat. One hand rose, involuntarily, to brush the rubies, and a slight, sad frown marked her brow.
“‘It did not seem to me to be a time to guard myself against Love’s blows: so I went on confident, unsuspecting’,” she quoted softly. Green eyes searched his face. He /was/ jealous. She hadn’t meant that, hadn’t expected it. He’d been too far for her to know anything but his instant anger; not what might have swelled behind it, from her letter.
“You remember it,” Humphrey noted in a voice almost a whisper, “That was the poem I told you when we met in Westminster. When you caught me lying of who I am…”
“…She, who is the sun among those ladies, shining the rays of her lovely eyes on me creates thoughts of love, actions and words; but whether she governs them or turns away, there is no longer any Spring for me,” he added, his eyes cast on the ground. “I feel foolish,” he whispered.
“Don’t, my lord, please, don’t.” Summer didn’t pull away from Humphrey. “We … were both cruel, I think, in fear.” There was more she wanted to say, but the look on his face stopped her words in her throat. She searched his face for a long time. “Perhaps we might … try again. With greater understanding.”
“I know not what we shall do,” He said softly. “You tell me. Was I cruel? See I am a prince of the blood royal, none ever talks to me like you did and whatever you insist I wish to have nothing of that talk again…” He said. His pride was still hurt by how she talked to him. He felt that if he’d have to suffer then at least he wants to do it with dignity. He will not go beyond his pride or his dues for any woman, he swore it long ago. Not even for one he loved, or he felt like love.
Too many thoughts crowded to her lips, jumbling together and stopping themselves in her throat. ‘I spoke only the truth,’ she wanted to say, and ‘you /are/ a prince, do as you will,’ and ‘why are you so cruel.’ But she said none of those, in the end, looking away and trying to hide the tears rising in her eyes.
He had her heart as a toy, and didn’t even know. She hadn’t meant to test him, only to protect herself. “Why are you here?”
“Here, like, here?” He pointed at the ground confused. “Because I had to talk to you. Though I know not what to say, if I am honest…” He looked shamefully to the ground. “What would you have me say?” he asked softly, sighing.
“You know it is so cruel that once I find a woman who I seem to enjoy the company of, and it all goes wrong like this. You are a rare diamond to find, you know…”
“I’m not.” The protest was instinctive. “I am a river stone, ordinary and unlovely, or perhaps false gold, that deceives with sparkle but has no substance.” Summer twisted her hands together, blinking hard. “Do you not see? I would — I would have the truth. Will you not put me aside, will you not tire of me? I thought, if I … showed you that I did not expect … ” She stumbled over the words, and a tear slid down her cheek.
She bites her lip, holding in the temptation to ask, “Where did the bad shadow touch you?” Instead she relaxes her weight onto him even more, breathing deeply. “Shhh,” she soothes, “You’re safe. There’s nobody here but us, I promise. Whatever it was, it’s gone.” She wants to cheat, but that’s only going to make him annoyed instead of terrified. “Come back upstairs with me and try not to think about it?”“Because I can just magically forget it happened,” he snarks dryly, but he does at least lift his head off of the worktop. One hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he mumbles, “Need to find some advil.” He drags his hand through his hair, as if he didn’t look disheveled enough at that point. After a moment, he points out, “For someone who wants me upright, you’re remarkably on top of me.”
She slides off his back, reluctantly, because he’s warm, panic notwithstanding. “I just want you to feel safe. I can take the headache away, if you’d rather.” And if she’s /doing/ something to help, then the leftover nausea will go away — she hopes. “There, look, I am no longer on top of you.”
Summer and Tony
“Honestly, it’s irrelevant. I don’t actually like alcohol, but it doesn’t affect my judgment noticeably, either. I’ll do the same things sober as I would drunk. I let a clutch of frat boys dangle me off a balcony once in college, stone sober,” she reminisced. “I was, they weren’t. And they were the good kind, that took my ‘no’ for no and shut up about it. Damn, I miss them.”
“Alcohol is never irrelevant,” he mumbled under his breath with a grin. A dark brow shot in the air at the telling of her story. “You sound like you were quite the party girl.” He let out a low laugh just as the waitress arrived with the drinks. “Any other crazy college stories?”
“A few. You’ve got me wrong, though. I hung out with those guys because even though they drank they didn’t throw wild parties and we liked the same kind of movies and books. I’m a quiet, good girl.” The word ‘good’ had a sneer on it, like she was disgusted by it. She subsided into her water, annoyed at herself.
“You can’t possibly want him to stay!” she exclaimed. “It’s your life, your very body he’s taken! Damn near your soul!” She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I want you to be able to be the man you were before he came along.”“No, my soul is still mine,” Tony replied, deliberately missing the point. He took two steps back, once again pointing the knife at her, his arm steadier now than when he had first pulled the blade out. “See, I don’t really like that man. Maybe you do, but that’s why you have your own. I belong to someone else, Sunshine.”
“Don’t call me that!” She didn’t mean to say that out loud, but something about this space seemed to share her thoughts even as she was thinking them. “You don’t like who you were, so you’re going to give yourself over to someone worse? That’s stupid. He — that — the demon can’t save you. Only you can save yourself. And you’ve given up trying.”
If you’re going to bring him up, my gadgeteer — he never gives up trying to be better. No matter what, he doesn’t — and you just — you’d rather just lie down and let this thing destroy.”
Tony shrugged dispassionately, as if he had gotten bored with this discussion of morals and ethics. “Maybe you’ve got a point,” he offered, though it wasn’t much of a concession. “But I’m still not your gadgeteer, and while my demon won’t save me, he’s never claimed he would.”
The knife lowered, though he didn’t close it yet. “Besides, he makes me feel better, and I’m willing to settle for that.” He smiled, an unexpectedly soft expression for a moment. “What can I say?” The expression shifted, just slightly, as if he thought his next words might do something horrible and he couldn’t wait to see what. “I love him.”
Summer staggered back a step, unconsciously. “You can’t,” she blurted, despite every sense confirming his words. “You can’t. There’s nothing /to/ love. You’re lost, you’re blinded, it’s okay. It’s Stockholm syndrome, that’s all.” Once again, words were spilling out of her mouth that she would have managed not to say in the real world, but this weird space seemed to strip out any filters.
“What has he done to you?”
“That depends entirely on whom you ask.”
“Are you sure you mean cuddling, not wrestling?”
“It asks anything else. That’s my anything. Why are you making this complicated?”
Silly Tony
“Tony, I’ve worn corsets tighter than your hold just then. I’m /fine/.” She gave him a lopsided smile, teasing and light. “I thought I told you not to stop kissing me … “
“Oh, right.” Tony laughed hearing her note. That was just so funny, but he started kissing her again with more passion, but he also started to be more careful with his hug.
Yep, that was it; she was just going to turn to putty in his hands. “Don’t ever stop,” she breathed, clinging. “I love you /so/ much.”
Tony was regretting that he said that he will kiss her for forever or something like that, because it was so silly – he needed to breathe and also sometimes he needed to eat! But he continued kissing… And that was the point – he was so silly. Always he was so silly.
Summer cuddled deeper into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. “Now that we’ve vowed our undying devotion,” she teased, “what else shall we do with our time? A week, together … anything you want.”
She let him gesture her inside, eyes still locked on his face. “Cold,” she said. “Very cold.”
“I can assure you, if I am invited it will be anything but cold,” He smirked and took a step toward her, peering down at her from his lashes.
“You invited yourself. But I suppose, since it’s your shower, I can let you set the temperature.” She matched his step, licking at her lips again.
That drew a burst of laughter out of her. “It’s not worth your time anyway. There’s nothing I’ll do drunk that I wouldn’t also do sober. Which if you knew who I was, you’d already know.” Summer tipped back the last of her drink and put the glass down. “Why don’t you guess?”
“Oh,” he said, smirking, “Clever one, aren’t you? I like that, really I do. But seriously, you’re the smart type aren’t you? Not likely to swoon at my Storm Charm, are you?”
He tipped back the champagne glass and placed it gracefully on another waiter’s plate without batting an eyelash.
“Are you looking for someone to swoon? I know how,” she countered. “So far you aren’t impressing me enough for that, though.” The little voice of disappointment tugged on her mental sleeve again, whispering that he didn’t know who she was, and didn’t care, and just wanted someone to tell him how pretty he was.
“Well, I’ll just have to try harder, now won’t I?” he said, giving her a toothy grin at the thought of a challenge. Sure, the girls that were weeping at his feet were nice for his ego – but he always loved the pretty ones who played hard to get. It made him want them more. Masochistic? Maybe. Sue him.
“It might work better if you knew my name,” Summer pointed out, again. “Y’see, /I’m/ only interested in the clever ones, myself. I’m not sure you could keep up with me.” It’s a double play, but he probably wasn’t aware of that — keep up with her mentally, or in flight?
“Come on, Mr Storm. Do try harder. Impress me.”
