peterpaulwisdom:

    He smiles for the first time this evening and it’s one he can’t force off his face, enjoying the way she made him actually feel necessary as a person with all but a phrase. No doubt this was the liqueur speaking and were he sober they’d be just like the rest but he nods regardless to her comment, the irony seeping into his blood as the thought would have been nice a few months prior. But he hadn’t, and it was his own fault, something the both of them were about to have to live with “Never though’ I was allowed. Though’ I’d piss ye missus righ’ off.” There’s a shift as he swaps the receiver from one hand to another and Pete leans up against the window, icy blues glancing through the cracked window on the other side as the light distorted on its way in 

    “No more ‘an usual. Got them files on Thursday. Was finished by Monday. But they left out some bloo’y impor’an’ shit. Threw me in blind they did” He rarely detailed any happenings of his job to his Pryde, always a private instance due to his uncertainty and lack of autonomy in the jobs that ended far worse than planned but this one couldn’t stay tucked away “I shoudn’ be standin’ here Ki’en. Should be dead. Wish I bloody well was. Don’ know if I can nomore.” A further pause, his voice catching in the back of his throat “was jus’ a boy.”

   “Since when have you cared if Rachel was mad?” It was playful, an attempt to break up his melancholy and said even quieter than all whispers she’d managed before that moment, mentioning the missus by name and fearing she’d rise at the very sound. It was innocent and fun if only for the moment hunched over her own knees and whispering to an ex lover like she was a child and the thrill of it all could never catch up to her. For a fading moment the giggles she’d managed to squeeze out were sincere and they were sweet and they bubbled and they ended abruptly in a lopsided grin he could not see. “Anyway…I think it was you who said…” there was a pause for dramatic effect after her serious change in tone “…’that girl ain’t no man’s property’. It goes for ladies too, ya know?”

Despite the jest she sunk as he sunk further into his confusing muddle of words. “What do you mean you should be dead?” She stopped again. It was only thing their years apart had afford her that was not sadness or a burden. She stopped to think on what she had to say next. She stopped to stop herself from getting emotional from the emotion in his voice. She stopped for the sake of stopping. Her head tilted and she went quiet. She did not lull him with idle noises. Instead she stopped to think this through: did she really want to know what he mean? It could make or break them. There was a part of her that could have loved him again somewhere and even deeper then that was the part of her that did still love him and would not admit to this. But if he was saying what she thought he was saying it could change. A wisp of a sigh came from the other end and then: “Who was just a boy Petey?”

Nov 19 18:38 ( ♥ 28 )