Smoke and Whiskey V
The morning was clear and cold for May. Sebastian sat on the roof in his boxers and a light t-shirt he’d pulled on as he got out of bed. He hadn’t been on his run yet, felt a heaviness settling in his chest that made self-motivation difficult.
It was too early for alcohol, so he made do with a cigarette burning away between his fingers and the sharp air on bare skin to keep him grounded.
Jim had been up all night, working intently on something on his laptop. Sebastian knew better than to disturb him, let alone to talk about anything he needed to.
He’d always scoffed at loneliness, not quite believing it was possible. He’d never needed anyone other than Jim, always valued being alone because it was such a rare opportunity.
Now, he wished for people. For crowds of them to come pouring in, to fill the streets of London and overflow, trample him and shove him and press against him until he could scarcely breathe.
No. He didn’t want that at all. He pressed his forehead into the palm of his hand.
He didn’t understand. He could talk to anyone. Call up some lackies, discuss work, organise assignments, double-check arrangements. He could even just walk down to the bloody corner shop and ask the cashier how her day had been. Strike up a conversation in a bookshop. Smile at someone in the street.
But what was the point?
It was all too separate from Jim. Jim was everything. There was nothing to talk about that wasn’t tainted by him.
He realised with a sharp intake of smoke that he felt the way he had when Jim had shot himself on that fucking hospital rooftop.
It was that same isolation, desertion. There were orders to give, protocols to follow. But there was no one to talk to. Nobody who understood the man, understood everything he was and did to Sebastian. He’d had to go through it all alone. Arrange the funeral, put on a front, act every bit the loyal but distinctly unaffected bodyguard.
It was the same now. There was nobody to turn to except the man himself, and he was busy. He didn’t care. Couldn’t.
There were only two people in the entire world who Sebastian could even remotely trust enough to talk about Jim honestly and halfway openly. And one of them couldn’t even remember his name. The other reminded him too much of her.
I’M JUST REALLY UPSET OVER TVD RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS
I JUST
ELENA I FRIGGEN HATE YOU EVEN MORE OH MY GOSH JUST GOOO ALREADY SHEESH
AND REBECCA SWEETIE YOU JUST KEEP TRYING HUN, YOU’LL GET IT RIGHT EVENTUALLY
AND TYLER YOU SWEET IDIOT ASDFGHJKL
MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
SO DID APRIL DRINK SILAS’S BLOOD??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!!!
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
JJJJJJJJJJEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY
i.just.cant.
- my check engine light came on [again] and i have to take the car to the shop [again].
- my unemployment benefits are still on hold and trying to get someone on the phone at the NC ESC is so frustrating i want to punch every goddamn person in the chotch.
- oh yeah, no job.
- aaron paul is engaged to someone that isn’t me.
Seeing all the people who met Keeley today is making me cry.
I’m so happy for you all, but at the same time it’s dawning on me that I’ll probably never meet her. I live in Scotland, and travelling down to England (where she most likely always is) is just impossible, I don’t have the money. There is a ridiculously slim chance that she’ll ever come to Scotland as well.
She’s been such an inspiration for me, and I can’t believe I’m in full on tears at this, but it really hurts to know that something as stupid as money is keeping me from ever meeting her :(
