01-01-2014, 03:07 AM
It's not that Ruby's uninvited to places. She's plenty invited. That's not really the point. What's keeping her home on the New Year is a warning. You go to parties, I'll fuck with you. Jared doesn't have to say it, he just has to display his hate everywhere she goes.
So, she slumps over on the couch at 'her' 'home', a bottle of scotch hanging loosely from her hands as she waits out the old. Seriously? Fuck this year. It's a good riddance.
Jared's there too, because he's always there when she's at home by herself. The moot and other large gatherings of wolves tend to scare him off, which is good. He doesn't like all the stalking beasts in crinos. Bad memories. Can't really blame him there.
"Almost time," he says to her, and she looks up. He's beside her on the couch, though she never saw or felt him there. Javed says it's no good idea to engage him in conversation. Javed says a lot of things, and all of them have been true, so she's tried to keep to his teaching. But Javed doesn't understand some things.
She nods back to her ex, giving him just that barest hint of acknowledgement.
"We need to talk," he says. If they were still 'together', those would be the words of doom, wouldn't they? We need to talk. Anything can follow those four words. But now his voice seems to come from the cold dark, the muteness of winter itself. Doom's already happened.
"I can't," she says, trying to leave it at that, trying to stick with a rapidly fraying rule.
"You never want to talk," he says, exasperated. "Thats... that's kind of the reason why we have to. Ruby. I think we should try living separately. Seeing other people."
What? She twists her head in his direction, and... Damn, he looks so repentant, so pained. And she has no earthly idea of what he means. "You what?"
"Look, I'm just... trying to do the right thing, here, okay? I can't do this anymore. We need some time apart, I think, to see whether we really belong together, you know?" He looks down, at the scotch hanging off of her fingers. "Can I have some of that?"
No. It's impossible, Jared. He looks and sounds like he honestly doesn't know what happened to him. Like he's the old Jared, before he truly hated the world and her especially. Like he doesn't know he's dead.
She reaches out to touch his face, but he can't be touched. Not anymore. Tears start to well up inside when she realizes what must be going on. Perhaps he's trying to retroactively keep her from killing him, trying to fix things in the way only the truly insane could think to do it.
"I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm really sorry," he says, his eyes filling with ghostly tears to match her own. "I know this isn't the best time to bring this up. I just didn't want to lie anymore." He goes to wipe her eyes, and actually manages it, though the cold touch of death on her skin makes her turn away.
"Hey. Hey, don't be like that," he says, as the pops of distant fireworks drowns out the softness of his echo of a voice. "It's midnight. You want, I don't know, a last kiss or something?"
Ruby shakes her head. Maybe this is why you shouldn't talk to the dead. "I ca... can't."
She upends the bottle of scotch instead, kissing the bottle like a lover. Out with the old. Please no more fucking new. Had it up to here with new.
So, she slumps over on the couch at 'her' 'home', a bottle of scotch hanging loosely from her hands as she waits out the old. Seriously? Fuck this year. It's a good riddance.
Jared's there too, because he's always there when she's at home by herself. The moot and other large gatherings of wolves tend to scare him off, which is good. He doesn't like all the stalking beasts in crinos. Bad memories. Can't really blame him there.
"Almost time," he says to her, and she looks up. He's beside her on the couch, though she never saw or felt him there. Javed says it's no good idea to engage him in conversation. Javed says a lot of things, and all of them have been true, so she's tried to keep to his teaching. But Javed doesn't understand some things.
She nods back to her ex, giving him just that barest hint of acknowledgement.
"We need to talk," he says. If they were still 'together', those would be the words of doom, wouldn't they? We need to talk. Anything can follow those four words. But now his voice seems to come from the cold dark, the muteness of winter itself. Doom's already happened.
"I can't," she says, trying to leave it at that, trying to stick with a rapidly fraying rule.
"You never want to talk," he says, exasperated. "Thats... that's kind of the reason why we have to. Ruby. I think we should try living separately. Seeing other people."
What? She twists her head in his direction, and... Damn, he looks so repentant, so pained. And she has no earthly idea of what he means. "You what?"
"Look, I'm just... trying to do the right thing, here, okay? I can't do this anymore. We need some time apart, I think, to see whether we really belong together, you know?" He looks down, at the scotch hanging off of her fingers. "Can I have some of that?"
No. It's impossible, Jared. He looks and sounds like he honestly doesn't know what happened to him. Like he's the old Jared, before he truly hated the world and her especially. Like he doesn't know he's dead.
She reaches out to touch his face, but he can't be touched. Not anymore. Tears start to well up inside when she realizes what must be going on. Perhaps he's trying to retroactively keep her from killing him, trying to fix things in the way only the truly insane could think to do it.
"I'm sorry, Ruby. I'm really sorry," he says, his eyes filling with ghostly tears to match her own. "I know this isn't the best time to bring this up. I just didn't want to lie anymore." He goes to wipe her eyes, and actually manages it, though the cold touch of death on her skin makes her turn away.
"Hey. Hey, don't be like that," he says, as the pops of distant fireworks drowns out the softness of his echo of a voice. "It's midnight. You want, I don't know, a last kiss or something?"
Ruby shakes her head. Maybe this is why you shouldn't talk to the dead. "I ca... can't."
She upends the bottle of scotch instead, kissing the bottle like a lover. Out with the old. Please no more fucking new. Had it up to here with new.