(no subject)

[eternal-boy.livejournal.com]

Nick comes down from his room. He's cleaned up since...the last few days. He looks a little lost, but his clothing and hair and appearance is otherwise impecable. He nearly stumbles on the way to the bar, eyes staring at anything but the actual environment around him. He sits. He stares.

He orders some food and begins to sip.

Comments

[eternal-boy.livejournal.com]

Nick glares.

"What am I supposed to do, huh? What can I possibly do? You're going to tell me that you've never done something you regretted? That you've never...never done something out of pure emotion and then looked back and realized how horribly wrong you were? I know...perhaps better than you, Meg. And I hate myself for it more than you'd know."

He steps away from Alex before nodding to him.

"We'll talk?"

There is something in the way he says it. Hopeful? Sad? Loving?

There...there it is.

"I'm well aware of that, Meg. I didn't give it as an excuse...merely an explanation since...it's not as if I make a habit of such things."

He runs a hand down Alex's arm again and looks at him for a moment before turning to Meg.

"We'll talk."

And in a blur of motion and a slight gust, he's gone.

[balletrat]

*Meg looks at the spot where he was, and then at Alex, and tries very hard to remember the right English words, because she feels like she needs to use them.

And, in a voice that's dead, says:*

You have the most fucked up taste of anyone I know.

*And then turns and walks off, because she doesn't understand, she doesn't understand, and since she can't dance, she hasn't got the time, going and thwacking at something for long long long hours is very nearly as good.*

[theprettiestone.livejournal.com]

And Alex starts to laugh again, soft and brittle and nearly hysterical, and goes back to his table where he can sit in the semi-dark and laugh and half-sob and pretend that he understands what's going on in his own mind.