finalflight | psl; [the healing process]

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psl; [the healing process]

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ELLE GRAYSON is generally a normal one, with enough variety sprinkled in throughout the week to prevent it from becoming a deadly dull routine. She lives in a flat in London, a charming little one bedroom and two bath, not particularly large, but cozy. It’s a strange fusion of modern and old fashioned, a dichotomy that reflects her own personality quite well.

Every morning, she wakes up and makes a cup of strong coffee. (Black, no sugar.) Her cat, a grey, long-haired, grumpy looking thing, lazes on her bed for longer than she does, only trotting out when he’s ready to be fed. His name is Paladin Leeroy. Sometimes she just calls him Lee.

When coffee and breakfast are a thing of the past, Elle usually hears chirping on her balcony, a structure small but laden with potted plants. She will open the doors, and sometimes, if she’s in a particularly energized mood, will announce, “Your Queen has arrived! Court will now be held,” and the little sparrows will chirp at her, and line up in a row. She’ll feed them birdseed, or bread, if she’s run out. Later, Leeroy will bound out, but she always tells him to leave the birds alone until they’re done eating. He listens. They always fly away before he gets a chance to do any real harm.

Lately, she’s been working part-time at an advertising agency, writing and tweaking copy that slides across her desk. It isn’t the most fulfilling job, but it pays the bills, and that’s what matters. Her real work is her own writing; freelancing for various websites, and poking and prodding at the idea for a book, slowly trying to force life into the narrative. Sometimes inspiration strikes her, and she sits and writes for hours at a time, until her eyes begin to strain, and she has to stop. Other times, she grows tired and can’t seem to string words together at all, and her word document looks a bit like this:

And then stuff happened. Everyone died tragically but it was fine, because it was thematically appropriate to the narrative.

ugh ugh you suck

That always gets deleted at the end, of course.

Crammed in the corner of the living area is an upright piano, white and well-used. Sheet music sits scattered on its stand, and an acoustic guitar rests on the floor next to it. There’s a television, of course, a flat-screen that looks larger than it actually is in her apartment. Connected to it is a Playstation 2, a blu ray player, and little else. On the shelves above, there are books — so many books. Mostly horror and old classics; copies of Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice look particularly worn.

The shelf next to it is stocked with board games. Tabletop and family ones, alike. One in particular is even out of its spot, instead spread out on the little glass coffee table. It looks as if a campaign hasn’t been started yet, though someone’s been flipping through the manual quite recently. Maybe quite frequently.

Her bedroom is small, but the bed is large and roomy. There are pictures of friends and family on the bookshelves in here, and a few on her nightstand. Beyond that, she keeps this part of the flat a little messier than the rest.

GENERALLY, SHE LIVES A RELATIVELY NORMAL LIFE, quiet and cozy. Sometimes living by herself is a bit lonely, and the time difference means that she cannot call her mom and step-dad any time she likes just to hear their voices. But like all things, these emotions pass like any other. Perhaps the only real oddity in her life are the strange surprises she sometimes finds on her balcony. There were a family of raccoons once. A possum. A falcon, who looked lost and confused when she opened the door, turning its head at her, blinking. There were even rats, but they only sniffed the air in her direction, and did little else.

Elle Grayson is just a normal 26 year-old, with a magnetism or two that might be considered abnormal. Perhaps that’s the extent of the oddities in her life. Perhaps this is all she could ever really wish for.

Perhaps she’ll be proven wrong, sooner rather than later.

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D I R E C T O R Y;

➤ a reunion
➤ a cat
➤ a novel
➤ an outing
➤ a resolution
➤ a sickness
➤ a home
➤ a boyfriend
➤ a horror

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... But you're just letting me...

[He's struggling again. He doesn't like it.]

... Letting me stay...

[She glances over her shoulder at him, having already gotten her keys out to unlock the car. The chill in the parking lot seems colder now than it did before, for some reason.

Again, she turns to look at him.]

...Of course. I care about you, and I want to make sure you're safe, warm, and fed.

[How easily she can say some things, and yet she's so easily embarrassed by other admissions. To Elle, some things are simply just a given.

The way he's saying it, though, she doesn't know how to interpret it. She feels a flicker of worry.]

You're not getting sick of me, are you?

Edited 2016-12-18 03:39 (UTC)

... No.

[He's looking away and covering his face. What the hell was happening? He's been trying to avoid things like this for so long, there's nothing good that can come out of this, nothing that he can do about it, nothing to be done, but...]

No.

[He says it twice meaning he's not bothered and yet his actions seem to muddle his message even more.]

[Now Elle is just even more confused. What a decidedly... strange reaction; kind of like a child, in some weird (and yet oddly endearing) way. She'd laugh, if not for the fact that she's not sure if this is really a reaction she should laugh at or not.

But she does step forward, closer to him, a hand around his arm and gently tugging it down, as if telling him to uncover his face. Her lips are trending upwards into a faint smile.]

Are you sure? What's gotten into you?

... I think I'm sick.

[And now you're just worrying her.]

What? I hope you didn't catch what I had before...

[Excuse her as she brings up a hand to feel his forehead.]

Your temperature seems okay. What feels off?

I don't know, but just don't... Stop.

[He takes another step back and then using the hand that was covering his face to gently redirect Elle away from him.

Of course, that only serves to show what he was hiding.

His face is flushed. Red cheeks and there's even a tint of color in his ears.]

[She blinks, dropping her hand down. At first, Elle thinks she's done something to offend Corvus; that is, until she sees the state of his face.

Oh my god.

Is he actually blushing?

She never thought she'd see the day. It's so... unlike him. She brings up her hands to her mouth, covering the smile that rushes to the surface.]

Are you... are you blushing?

[Why? What happened? Is he embarrassed that she said she'd take care of him?]

[Corvus is struggling to find words. He covers up his face again with one palm, wanting to will the blood rushing to his face to fade away. Why was human biology so irritating? It always meant easily read actions and intentions even if it wasn't clear to the victim themselves.

He has NO idea what's going on.]

I. I don't.

Let's go.

[HEADING TOWARDS ELLE'S CAR]

But... it's cute! [She calls after him, as he walks off. Okay, maybe she's teasing a little. (Though it is kind of cute, she thinks. In a way that is quite serious. She's glad to see some emotion from him that isn't completely drywall, blunt, or sad.)

She follows, grinning, and unlocks the car. She slides into the driver's seat.]

I wasn't trying to make you feel embarrassed. I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you if you need anything.

[She thinks she's helping!]

[HE'S SITTING IN THE BACK ARMS CROSSED LIKE A LITTLE KID.

Corvus seems to have shut down, but in a more hilarious way, than his usual depressing manner. As if he doesn't want to admit that he has other emotions or that Elle's words were the cause of them.]

[She looks into her rear view mirror to see a very stubborn and embarrassed looking Corvus.

Looks like she's going to be driving with an oversized kid in the car this time.

She pulls out of their parking spot, and then begins the drive home. But first, she makes sure to add:]

It's nothing to be ashamed of. Just means you have more complicated emotions running around in that head of yours.

Edited 2016-12-18 07:17 (UTC)

[Corvus can't deal with this. He just can't. He has other priorities, he can't deal with this swerve in his existence right now, just...]

... Can you turn on the music?

[... Just change the subject as usual.]

...All right.

[She supposes she'll relent and back off for a little bit for now. But it doesn't change the fact that she seems a little glad for this change.

She turns on her iPod when she gets chance, and Space Age Love Song comes on.]

[Exhausted (from what, he doesn't understand), Corvus proceeds to lay on his side, back turned to Elle, letting the music wash over him.

Something else he hasn't noticed was that his heart, his half, the dark shell of a thing, had been beating within his human body, betraying him for once.]

[She glances at him through the mirror occasionally, wondering if he was still feeling embarrassed, or just plain tired. It may have been both, and she just shakes her head a little, letting him rest for now.

When they reach her flat, though, she exits her vehicle and walks around to the backseat, opening one of the doors.]

Sleepyhead, you okay back there? We're home.

[When Elle opens the door, she'll find Corvus, laying on his side, soft breathing emitting from him. Corvus fell asleep somewhere along the way. It's the first time he's fallen asleep in front of her as a man and unlike an animal, he looks vulnerable, peaceful, lost in his dreams.

(Does he dream? That's a conversation for another day.)

He's alright at least.]

[Elle realizes that he's not just resting, he's sleeping. It gives her pause. She reaches over to touch him on the shoulder, but her hand stops just short.

His face was so peaceful. The way he looked now, Corvus appeared open. Vulnerable.

(She wonders how many people have seen him like this, or if she was the only one.)

Something within her chest swells. A warm fondness that fell just short of an ache, something she didn't know what to do with it. It was enough to make her a feel an odd sort of trepidation, though she knew that she couldn't just leave him here.

So instead of touching him, she leans in with an elbow against the back of the seat, trying to get his attention by saying his name. Her hair falls across her shoulder, pulled down by gravity, as she hovers above him.]

...Cor. Cor. Corvus.

[He moves a little finally turning on his back. There's even some grumbling as her voice pulls him away from his sleep.]

... I hear you. You don't have to...

[His hand moves up so he can move upwards so that he's sitting up a little more and then freezes. Elle is hovering near him and there's not a lot of distance between them. He's forced to look at her face. Really look at it and his heart is betrays him with another quick beat, a skipped one, and then another.]

... I've awakened.

[And then, unexpectedly, his face is so close to hers. Her eyes lock onto his, and her mind tells her to move back, but her body won't comply. The moment hangs still for awhile, and her breath catches in her throat. God, she feels like an adolescent school girl. Already, she can feel her cheeks flushing.

Why did this keep happening? It's no surprise to her that he's a handsome man -- she was aware of that since the night they met -- and she shouldn't keep acting this way. But when he's that close (god, when he speaks, she can nearly feel his breath on her cheek), she finds she becomes completely and utterly useless. She can't remember the last time she felt like this, this intense self-consciousness, this enduring curiosity of what is he thinking, and what if he leaned in just a little closer-

And then the moment is over, and she retreats, leaning back. She bumps her head lightly on the car as she attempts to straighten.]

You- ow. [A hand comes up to rub at the soreness. She's such a moron. She's acting like a fool, thinking these wayward thoughts.]

We're... we're home now.

...

...

[Corvus sits up straighter, swinging his legs so that he's sitting properly, hands on his legs, drumming his fingers against his thighs. His gaze won't meet Elle and he says in a deliberate manner.]

I'll be changing back. Once I step out. Of course.

[Back into an animal. Back into something that won't be as troubled, as involved, just a safer shell.

Anything's safer than being human.]

[She gazes down at him, and notices that he won't meet her own. Guess she did make a fool out of herself.]

...Oh. Sure. [Does she sound disappointed? Why would it matter either way what form he chose?]

It's what you prefer anyway, right?

[Corvus takes a step out of the car after a minute, muttering a reply that's mostly to himself and not to her.]

If I can help it, than yes.

[She closes the door behind him, a bit absent-mindedly. She hears those words, and she's not sure why that kind of makes her feel sad.

She tries to smooth over this strange mood lingering in the air, offering a bit uselessly:]

I had fun today. Maybe we can do something like that again soon...?

[Why does he always pause when she asks things? Why does he have to consider everything so carefully, why does it feel like he's walking on thin ice when he wants to give in and...]

I won't promise you anything.

[It's the only way he knows how to answer.]

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animalqueen - 2016-12-18 08:28 (UTC) - Expand

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