It is 8pm on Friday night and I have cleaned the bottom half of my apartment. Now I think it’s time to settle in and watch The West Wing episodes Somebody’s Going to Emergency, Somebody’s Going to Jail through Two Cathedrals. What’re y'all up to? Please tell me it’s something exciting (‘cause no one is here…).
the residence is quiet and phil sits alone, HUNCHED OVER HIS KNEES, staring out the round window. d.c. is drizzling and miserable; inside, it’s warm. he can hear claire cross from one room to the next, HEELS softly thudding with every step. it’s not an unpleasant sound.
“ are you nervous? “ she might not hear him.
the suit is well tailored and feels sublime, but without a tie (too many connections, davis decided, people will always see you as theDIRECTOR, never just a man if you keep hanging a noose around your neck).
she was right about his hands; about the scruff of his chin, the sharp cut of his chest against her back. SOMEBODY’S GOING TO EMERGENCY, somebody’s going to jail - ain’t that how the song goes? that’s what his voice sounds like in her ear. a little dirty, a little dangerous. “ what makes you think i wanna KEEP it? “