(no subject)

[sunburned]

And this is bloody intolerable. By his count, it's been fourteen nights, which means fourteen days. Fourteen weddings and fourteen chances for Anahuarque to turn to him with that particular look in her eye. Some of the nights have been easier than others - sometimes, he's risen to the occasion and others, he hasn't. For her part, Anahuarque seems genuinely kind. There's something particularly hard in the way she leans in to him, her hair loose around her shoulders, and touches his face.

His arm bothers him and he drinks a lot.

He's not sure when exactly it happens. It's as though something entirely snaps inside his head. Tonight is one of the nights when it does not go well, when he takes time to please her in other ways and then lies beside her, open-eyed, until her breathing levels and slows.

Drunk as he is, there's only one place that he can go.

He walks in without knocking.

Comments

[geniusofdisaster]

"Of course," he answered, restored to some semblance of his old self and able once more to think like a rational man, or at least to answer simple questions like one. It was not much, but it was a start. "There are extra blankets and I can set up a bed for myself on the floor."

[sunburned]

It happens so quickly that he's all but powerless to stop it - a flicker of hurt passes across flushed features.

"The floor is it?" he says, aware that he's already asked far too much of a man like Willaim Laurence.

[geniusofdisaster]

The fleeting glimpse of emotion was noted by Laurence, but he didn't know exactly what to do about it. Apologize? Explain? Say nothing. "Unless you would prefer it. I thought it polite, under the circumstances."

[sunburned]

"I would prefer to have you near me," says Granby, too tired and worn to pretend or hide anything, especially from Laurence.

[geniusofdisaster]

"Oh."

He had shared beds with other men many times before, it was a common enough occurrence both in the military and in civilian life. Spare beds were often a luxury and when tired any space to rest was often deemed good. But he had never done so after engaging in such a practice with his bedfellow. After some hesitation he nodded and went to fetch an extra blanket, just in case.

[sunburned]

"I know," he says, quietly, pulling himself up against a pillow, legs crossed Indian-style as he watches Laurence move around the room, "that I am asking a lot. Too much. And, if this is ever over, I'll explain myself as fully as I'm able, I swear."

He sighs miserably, letting his head drop.

"My thanks, Will. I'll...I can't conceive of ever being able to thank you as much as you deserve."

[geniusofdisaster]

"Then do not try," Laurence said in reply. Now that thing was over and done it was easy enough to focus on the little things once more. He readjusted the bedclothes, he handed an extra blanket to Granby, he stripped off his breeches. In nearly every respect it was as though he was merely preparing to retire on any ordinary evening. It was easier that way.