![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
ic contact post
This is Robb. Leave a message.
( audio | text | e-mail )
This is Robb. Leave a message.
( audio | text | e-mail )
TO: robb.smith@lockenet.com
TO: elle.une@lockenet.com
SUBJECT: Class Notes + Paper (For that really boring class you keep sleeping through)
Philosophy is your friend. Forwarding you my notes as well as my paper to help you along. Don't miss the deadline. Good luck.
[All awkwardness aside, she still wants to help him out. It's a peace offering of sorts.]
TO: elle.une@lockenet.com
SUBJECT: Class Notes + Paper (For that really boring class you keep sleeping through)
Philosophy is your friend. Forwarding you my notes as well as my paper to help you along. Don't miss the deadline. Good luck.
[All awkwardness aside, she still wants to help him out. It's a peace offering of sorts.]
[When she opens the door, it's all too clear that she's been crying. Her eyes are red though she's doing her best not to draw attention to the fact by keeping her expression stern. Right now, she'd love nothing more than to fling her arms around him and bury her face in his chest.
You'd say goodbye, wouldn't you? You wouldn't go off to die without telling me?
She's still trembling a bit from what she saw. Stars clashing in the night sky. The death of someone she loved above all. But who?]
Please come in. I made coffee.
[She turns from him and walks to the living room before she can show even more weakness. It's not right to burden him.]
You'd say goodbye, wouldn't you? You wouldn't go off to die without telling me?
She's still trembling a bit from what she saw. Stars clashing in the night sky. The death of someone she loved above all. But who?]
Please come in. I made coffee.
[She turns from him and walks to the living room before she can show even more weakness. It's not right to burden him.]
[He walks in, all the more concerned. The promise of coffee doesn't do a thing to relieve him, not when something's wrong with his friend. His...okay, something.]
You said you remembered something. Do you want to talk about it? [He'll understand if she doesn't, though. Some things he's not willing to talk about either (boom boom).]
You said you remembered something. Do you want to talk about it? [He'll understand if she doesn't, though. Some things he's not willing to talk about either (boom boom).]
[Sitting down on the same couch where they'd had their one night stand, she ponders if this is a part of her she's willing to share. After all, she's shared so much with him already. It's just another drop in the bucket. Picking her mug up off the coffee table, she lets it warm her shaking hands.]
Sit down first. I have to admit that I'm not quite sure.
Sit down first. I have to admit that I'm not quite sure.
[Taking a deep breath, she braces herself, picking her words carefully.]
There was a man's voice. He was asking me about the dead. How many had died? Could I tell him their names later? I said I would. It made me think he was going to come back. And then I saw stars. Two of them engaged in a clash. I knew then that he wasn't coming back and my heart just dropped. He didn't say goodbye to me. How could he just go off to die without saying goodbye?
[Her hands start shaking again and she places the mug on the table to keep the coffee from spilling.]
Whoever he was, he must have been important. That's all I know.
There was a man's voice. He was asking me about the dead. How many had died? Could I tell him their names later? I said I would. It made me think he was going to come back. And then I saw stars. Two of them engaged in a clash. I knew then that he wasn't coming back and my heart just dropped. He didn't say goodbye to me. How could he just go off to die without saying goodbye?
[Her hands start shaking again and she places the mug on the table to keep the coffee from spilling.]
Whoever he was, he must have been important. That's all I know.
[He didn't say goodbye to me.
He glances down at his own mug. When next he speaks, his voice is soft and just a little melancholy.]
That's the thing about death, I suppose. [He looks up at her.] Sometimes you don't get the chance to say goodbye, and sometimes you just let it pass when you do get one, because you don't want to worry the people you love.
He glances down at his own mug. When next he speaks, his voice is soft and just a little melancholy.]
That's the thing about death, I suppose. [He looks up at her.] Sometimes you don't get the chance to say goodbye, and sometimes you just let it pass when you do get one, because you don't want to worry the people you love.
But to offer false hope? It's far more cruel, isn't it? To make someone wait for something that won't return.
[An awkward laugh leaves her lips. It sounds out of place. Dissonant.]
I don't even know why I'm so upset. The man I heard was no one I knew.
[But I knew him once, didn't I?]
[An awkward laugh leaves her lips. It sounds out of place. Dissonant.]
I don't even know why I'm so upset. The man I heard was no one I knew.
[But I knew him once, didn't I?]
I don't know. I don't want to worry my mother, or anyone else I care about, but at the same time I don't want them to wonder why I couldn't say goodbye.
[He lifts the mug to his lips, then takes a sip.] I guess it comes down to if I'm sure I'm going to make it out alive.
[He lifts the mug to his lips, then takes a sip.] I guess it comes down to if I'm sure I'm going to make it out alive.
Page 1 of 3