eldorne_girl | (no subject)

(no subject)

[The time has come, the Walrus said, to speak of many things and Delia doesn't want to speak or move or even think, so she's drinking. By herself, of course, but drinking anyway.

Kills things. Twitchiness and restlessness, but the door downstairs won't go away.]

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Thom opens the door without asking and hops up on the bed beside her. He takes the bottle out of her hands; admonishes, "Share."

You weren't here, [she points out.]

You didn't invite me.

*He drinks and hands back the bottle.*

Was I supposed to?

*Thom looks wounded.*

You should always invite me.

[there is a flicker of...something across her lovely face]

Always?

Those are the rules.

Ah, yes. Rules.

We don't break rules, do we?

[softly,]

Would leaving break one of them?

That depends entirely on where you go.

Dark God's Realm.

*Thom blinks, taken aback; recovers the wine and takes a long swig.*

What do you think that would break?

I'm not sure, that's why I'm asking. I'm...I won't be back.

I know what it would mean.

*Despite the nastiness in his voice, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch her long, dark hair.*

[she doesn't move away]

So. Would it?

Yes.

But I'm breaking that rule, too.

Oh.

*He smiles.*

I convinced my charming sister to bring me back to life -- she's doing it now. Or will be soon.

[there is pause]

Alive?

I will be. Remember what that feels like?

Sometimes.

[she's staring at him, almost confused.]

[she takes another drink]

I don't.

*He looks at his hands.*

You've been dead longer than I.

Yes.

I don't suppose you could haunt me.

I could always try.

Even if I go to Earth?

Yes.

That's what you'll have to do.

*Thom looks up again, meeting her bright green eyes.*

Alanna says she thinks when Adam and I die, Adam will go to our underworld. And I'll go to Hell.

*She didn't specify Hell, but the alternative seems -- unlikely, to say the least.*

[softly, not looking away,]

When have I let death ever stop me from doing anything?

You're letting it stop you now, aren't you?

I'm just tired, Thom. There's a difference.

The difference now is I won't see you.

*He grins.*

You'd think I'd be thrilled.

Are you?

*solemnly* You know I am.

Of course.

*Thom takes the bottle, sets it on the floor, and -- perhaps rather impulsively -- hugs her.*

[for a moment, Delia just...freezes. And maybe that moment stretches out until, just maybe, she hugs him back.]

Are any other rules off now?

[her bottom lip is trembling, slightly, but hugs are useful for hiding one's face.]

I don't know. Maybe.

How about --

*Thom draws his fingers through her hair and, leaning up a bit, kisses her: softly*

-- all of them.

[she doesn't look up, and doesn't look at him, but maybe there is a ghost of her lovely smile]

All, Thom?

*He blushes.*

Unless you'd rather not.

[that little smiles widens, just a bit, she leans over and kisses him back. Just as softly, just as gentle.]

*still a bit red, Thom starts to say something; thinks better of it, and deftly unhooks the back of her dress.*

[and in the morning, neither of them are there]

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