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(no subject)
Righting a wrong is often times hard enough. When you're righting a wrong that's solidly embedded into how you see and carry yourself, it's damn near impossible. And that just the task set before Raph; righting a wrong that is...him. It's every fiber of his being. It's...the tree to his forest. The existence of water to his fish. The...well, you get the idea.
Raph had been stewing over Alanna's words for some time now. He'd killed many a bottle of Sam Adams in his attempts to see things from this completely new-to-him point of view. It was working, but...wow was that work slow going, and even as he did so he knew the hardest trial was yet to come: how best to approach Abigail. The hours rolled into days, and still he had made no headway into how to confront the woman he loved,...the woman he had inadvertantly wronged. Until one day, when he could stand the separation no longer, he returned to Tortall.
Standing outside the door to the barn where he knew her daily routine would most assuredly place her, he takes a deep, calming breath.
Instantly a memory from a few days previous surfaces.
Raph was helping Mike with dinner preparations, ie: setting the table, when suddenly he threw caution to the wind and asked his brother:
"How would you go about apologizin' to a really really angry woman?"
"Oral sex. Lots oral sex," replied his hedonistic youngest brother, without so much as missing a beat.
Raph had no words.
"But that's just me. For you?" Mike continued, ever unflappable. "I'd suggest something a little more Pop Warner and a little less Varsity. Flowers? Coupon for a free kick to the nethers?"
"I hate you so much right now."
"I know. But if you're asking me for advice, you clearly don't hate me nearly as much as Abigail hates you right now."
Mike wasn't wrong. Infuriatingly, he usually never is.
Which is why, as he pushes open the barn door, he's carring a Star-gazer Lilly in one hand.
Raph had been stewing over Alanna's words for some time now. He'd killed many a bottle of Sam Adams in his attempts to see things from this completely new-to-him point of view. It was working, but...wow was that work slow going, and even as he did so he knew the hardest trial was yet to come: how best to approach Abigail. The hours rolled into days, and still he had made no headway into how to confront the woman he loved,...the woman he had inadvertantly wronged. Until one day, when he could stand the separation no longer, he returned to Tortall.
Standing outside the door to the barn where he knew her daily routine would most assuredly place her, he takes a deep, calming breath.
Instantly a memory from a few days previous surfaces.
Raph was helping Mike with dinner preparations, ie: setting the table, when suddenly he threw caution to the wind and asked his brother:
"How would you go about apologizin' to a really really angry woman?"
"Oral sex. Lots oral sex," replied his hedonistic youngest brother, without so much as missing a beat.
Raph had no words.
"But that's just me. For you?" Mike continued, ever unflappable. "I'd suggest something a little more Pop Warner and a little less Varsity. Flowers? Coupon for a free kick to the nethers?"
"I hate you so much right now."
"I know. But if you're asking me for advice, you clearly don't hate me nearly as much as Abigail hates you right now."
Mike wasn't wrong. Infuriatingly, he usually never is.
Which is why, as he pushes open the barn door, he's carring a Star-gazer Lilly in one hand.
no subject
All this time he could do that?
Abigail takes a deep, shuddering breath and stares at the spot formerly occupied by Raph.
I love you too, you inconsiderate blockhead.
Mustering some small measure of nonchalance, Abigail swoops down on the flower and clutches it tightly, further crushing its stem. The look she gives Thomas asks -- no, demands -- that there be no questions just yet.
"Those layabouts inside aren't going to feed themselves, are they?" she snaps, lifting her chin as she stalks inside.
no subject
Of all the things Thomas was expecting to happen after taking his Raph's sword and using it to defend Abigail, Raph disappearing into an equally disappearing door was certainly not on the list. Bleeding to death in the dirt was second to arriving in time to watch the two lovebirds make up, but the thing with the door? Kind of blindsided him.
This is why he has not a word to say as his sister turns to him before retreating back into the house. It's only after he hears the latch of the back door click shut that he manages to find words, and they're stolen from the man who just made the most amazing exit Thomas has ever seen.
"Fucking hell."