He slumped back in his chair with a sigh, left hand raising his drink to his lips, while the other fiddled with his mobile phone. Relishing the quiet of his office, Dillian was more than a little annoyed when Shane barged in without so much as knocking.
"Yea. I got your message, what happened?"
Wordlessly, Dillian navigated to the text message in question, and tossed the phone to Shane, who, after reading it, looked as if he could not decide if he wanted to be sympathetic or to burst out laughing.
He sat down across from Dillian and lit a cigarette, sliding the phone across the desk as he did so.
"So this was yesterday?"
Dillian grunted in reply.
"Tried calling or messaging her?" Shane raised an eyebrow.
"Naturally."
"Any word?"
"Nope."
"Mm...Y'know? This is totally unexpected. Who would've thought?"
"Yea. Total riot. Hilarious."
And with that sarcastic retort, Dillian swive;ed in his chair to look out the window, his back towards Shane. On the street below, people scurried for shelter as raindrops the size of dollar coins fell from the menacing clouds. Tridents of light ran along the underbellies of the mercurial clouds, followed closely by thunder.
"Like one bloody cosmic fart," Dillian mumbled darkly.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Is Steph ready or not?"
"No, duh. You know her. Hey you know what? I know this song that would be really apt for your situation now, man." Shane started humming the tune to a song about being blind-sided in a relationship.
"Look, just shut up, okay? And put out that bloody cigarette!" Snapped Dillian.
"Whoa, chill out, boss. No point blowing your top off. It ain't productive," Shane took one last drag from his cigarette and offered it to Dillian, who at this time was thumbing through the messages on his mobile phone.
"Here, you could use this. And stop reading those, before you tear everything in this studio up."
"You know I don't smoke..."
"You used to," Shane cut in. "Come on, you know it helps."
"You're not exactly helping, you know," Dillian mumbled as he shoved his mobile phone into his pocket, and reached for the proffered cigarette, which was almost down to its filter.
He drew deeply from the cigarette, feeling the familiar slow drag as the poisons slowly snaked their way through his body. He held it in, savouring the high as it came to him. Dillian looked sideways at his friend as he grimaced through a cloud of smoke.
Friday, November 02, 2007
The End? HAHAHAHAHAHA *shoots self*
He stared back at her, eyes smoldering with desire, shap with angst, and just a hint of rage. His expression said it all. He hated her, but he also wanted her more than anything else in the world.
And her? She was the very definition of arrogance. She knew how he felt, and she cared not a whit. Taunting him, dangling him at the end of a string, but deep within, she knew she wanted him too, and was deathly afraid she'd gone too far.
The space between them was electric. It was a case of an unstoppable forace against an unmovable object. They held in their positions a moment longer, before pushing off of each other, spinning away in opposite directions. He looked back at her, still angry but slightly subdued; he was willing to compromise. She glanced coyly back at him from under long, curled lashes.
Taking their cue from the music, both moved towards each other again, crossing the dance floor with fluid strides. When they were but a few feet apart, she leapt. Her form and posture perfect, while he caught her in mid air, using her momentum to propel them into the next sequence of the dance.
Languid, almost lazy movements characterized this next phase of the dance. A vertical expression of a horizontal desire, their bodies moved as one. Their movements slowed as the music faded. The main lights came on as they entered their final pose, and the applauded, with a few giving a standing ovation.
Dillian glanced at Gwen. Sweat glistered on her exposed skin, and her face was flushed with the effort of the dance. But she was beaming, the exhilaration and energy that the dance gave her far outweighed the tiredness. It made her... Alive.
Grinning, Dillian took her hand and gave a slight push, giving her spin momentum, and at the same time providing her with support, as she moved in an 'open fan' position, one commonly used to present the couple.
Coming out of a deep bow to the audience and the judges, the couple shared another grin and proceeded off the dance floor.
"You did great," Gwen gurgled as they entered the holding area.
"No, we did great."
"That's an awefully overused cliché, Dill." Gwen said she she nudged him in the ribs.
"Whatever works, you know?" Dillian signed and moved to stand in front of her. "Gwen, I love you."
Her grin slipped, and she turned away from him, occupying herself with her makeup case on the table.
"Dill, we've been over this before. 'We' will never work. You know that."
"No, we don't know that. look at over dances. Are you trying to say that you felt nothing out on the Floor?"
"What we felt was the dance, Dill," Gwen sighed, exasperated. "You know very well what I mean. It's the dance that gives us life, that awakens us. We live when we dance. That says nothing about being life partners.
Dillian snorted, annoyed.
"It was our dances that made us feel alive. Dance gave us a direction, 'We' gave each other life," He took hold of her hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Why Aaron, Gwen? The least you could have done was to give a decent explanation, instead of sending a cheesy text message like some fifteen year old boy, and then disappearing for a quarter of a year!"
"Aaron... Understands me, Dill. He's known me longer than you, and he knows me inside out." Gwen snapped, trying to glare at Dillian but unable to keep it up for long.
"And I don't? Well, if that's the case, it certainly isn't from the lack of trying, Gwen. You say he understands you, but all he does is act like a...a...dense wooden block half the time. And when I try to...to...'understand' you, as you like to put it, you simply shut up. His questioning eyes drilled into her.
"And that's not all. What on earth drove you to do what you did? Did you think I wouldn't be willing to at least listen to you? Did you think that I would've gone berserk and wercked everything? What was it, Gwen? What, and why? If you thought that I would've been anything resembling a warmongering caveman, then lady, 'You', do not 'Understand' me."
He took a deep breath, his anger expelled after 4 months of being pent up. He was about to continue, but he felt so very tired, wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed.
Her glare had softened into furtive glances between him and her hands, which were fidgeting with her skirt.
"It's our last dance together, Dill," she said quietly, eyes watering, threatening to ruin her heavy makeup. "Please don't make this a bad memory." And with that she turned and walked quickly away.
"Don't make this a bad mem..." Dill started, but she was already gone. He stared after her, hands balled into fists, before walking away in another direction.
He saw her afterwards, wraped around Aaron as they headed out of the competition hall towards his car, followed by their little entourage.
He felt much like the way he did when she first sent him that text: Cut adrift, lost, shell-shocked. He glanced at her from inside the hall a few times, emotionally off-center, and unable to decide what to do next.
Aaron caught sight of him looking in their direction, and murmured something into Gwen's ear. She started, shrugged, and got into the car.
She never looked at him once.
And her? She was the very definition of arrogance. She knew how he felt, and she cared not a whit. Taunting him, dangling him at the end of a string, but deep within, she knew she wanted him too, and was deathly afraid she'd gone too far.
The space between them was electric. It was a case of an unstoppable forace against an unmovable object. They held in their positions a moment longer, before pushing off of each other, spinning away in opposite directions. He looked back at her, still angry but slightly subdued; he was willing to compromise. She glanced coyly back at him from under long, curled lashes.
Taking their cue from the music, both moved towards each other again, crossing the dance floor with fluid strides. When they were but a few feet apart, she leapt. Her form and posture perfect, while he caught her in mid air, using her momentum to propel them into the next sequence of the dance.
Languid, almost lazy movements characterized this next phase of the dance. A vertical expression of a horizontal desire, their bodies moved as one. Their movements slowed as the music faded. The main lights came on as they entered their final pose, and the applauded, with a few giving a standing ovation.
Dillian glanced at Gwen. Sweat glistered on her exposed skin, and her face was flushed with the effort of the dance. But she was beaming, the exhilaration and energy that the dance gave her far outweighed the tiredness. It made her... Alive.
Grinning, Dillian took her hand and gave a slight push, giving her spin momentum, and at the same time providing her with support, as she moved in an 'open fan' position, one commonly used to present the couple.
Coming out of a deep bow to the audience and the judges, the couple shared another grin and proceeded off the dance floor.
"You did great," Gwen gurgled as they entered the holding area.
"No, we did great."
"That's an awefully overused cliché, Dill." Gwen said she she nudged him in the ribs.
"Whatever works, you know?" Dillian signed and moved to stand in front of her. "Gwen, I love you."
Her grin slipped, and she turned away from him, occupying herself with her makeup case on the table.
"Dill, we've been over this before. 'We' will never work. You know that."
"No, we don't know that. look at over dances. Are you trying to say that you felt nothing out on the Floor?"
"What we felt was the dance, Dill," Gwen sighed, exasperated. "You know very well what I mean. It's the dance that gives us life, that awakens us. We live when we dance. That says nothing about being life partners.
Dillian snorted, annoyed.
"It was our dances that made us feel alive. Dance gave us a direction, 'We' gave each other life," He took hold of her hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Why Aaron, Gwen? The least you could have done was to give a decent explanation, instead of sending a cheesy text message like some fifteen year old boy, and then disappearing for a quarter of a year!"
"Aaron... Understands me, Dill. He's known me longer than you, and he knows me inside out." Gwen snapped, trying to glare at Dillian but unable to keep it up for long.
"And I don't? Well, if that's the case, it certainly isn't from the lack of trying, Gwen. You say he understands you, but all he does is act like a...a...dense wooden block half the time. And when I try to...to...'understand' you, as you like to put it, you simply shut up. His questioning eyes drilled into her.
"And that's not all. What on earth drove you to do what you did? Did you think I wouldn't be willing to at least listen to you? Did you think that I would've gone berserk and wercked everything? What was it, Gwen? What, and why? If you thought that I would've been anything resembling a warmongering caveman, then lady, 'You', do not 'Understand' me."
He took a deep breath, his anger expelled after 4 months of being pent up. He was about to continue, but he felt so very tired, wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed.
Her glare had softened into furtive glances between him and her hands, which were fidgeting with her skirt.
"It's our last dance together, Dill," she said quietly, eyes watering, threatening to ruin her heavy makeup. "Please don't make this a bad memory." And with that she turned and walked quickly away.
"Don't make this a bad mem..." Dill started, but she was already gone. He stared after her, hands balled into fists, before walking away in another direction.
***
He saw her afterwards, wraped around Aaron as they headed out of the competition hall towards his car, followed by their little entourage.
He felt much like the way he did when she first sent him that text: Cut adrift, lost, shell-shocked. He glanced at her from inside the hall a few times, emotionally off-center, and unable to decide what to do next.
Aaron caught sight of him looking in their direction, and murmured something into Gwen's ear. She started, shrugged, and got into the car.
She never looked at him once.
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