[ Oh, these boys and their hard charm. Could slice a finger on it.
She turns her new toy over between her fingers. Like it's a brick, not a pinnacle of human achievement. Like he's not a damn magician--what else has he got in those business pockets? It's a voracious flick of a look up and down. ] Cutler. Pleased as punch.
S'pity. He was a sweetheart. [ There and again. Hinges on definition. ] Dodgy on the mood, but I s'pose he'd be getting senile.
They're not like us, y'know. Old Ones get worn down to the nub.
Never. [ She doesn't know how she feels. It's a flutter of forced expression, twitched brows. She's not as good at that, all that youth that wells up when she's with him.
Like she's come home after finally getting suited to being away. This one good, warm thing. Is that rush love, or sinking with a block round her ankle? A leash. ]
You were my world, you're-- [ The check and balance. Her guiding hand, her lover, maker, fucking heartbreaker. ] Y'died for Mitchell. I needed you. It got so backwards, everything lost its colour.
[They are years past the time, if there'd been one, that they could be said to have been good for one another. But that doesn't matter. Ivan and Daisy are a fact, from the outside and the inside both, and it feels inevitable they should snap back into place. Whatever Ivan thinks about it, though, is hard to guess; he's much better at this than she is.]
Baby. [ It's a drawn coo, thick and syrup-y in turn. She takes his wrist instead, her other hand his forearm, reeling herself in. Fingers climbing his sleeve. ] I forgive you. [ As though Ivan, of all things, needed the validation, as though he'd actually done anything at all that needed to be undone.
But for the fun she'd had without him, that pinch, she needs to rinse it right off. Husband and wife, seemingly never going to properly part. She rolls on her tiptoes, so near. Yet her face suddenly one of abject disappointment. ] I never made it to every continent. [ She'd kept putting off a cut rate ship to Antarctica. ]
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I intend to make the most of it.
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Of course, when you're us, you only live forever, but who has the time to pen the details when there's smart phones?
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Can I get an iPhone here?
[ Valid question. She liked the little games. ]
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It's yours, love.
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You're Hal's boy.
How's he?
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Cutler. [ He leans forward at the small of his back, long fingers pressed together. ] A pleasure to meet the illustrious Daisy.
'Fraid we've lost touch.
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She turns her new toy over between her fingers. Like it's a brick, not a pinnacle of human achievement. Like he's not a damn magician--what else has he got in those business pockets? It's a voracious flick of a look up and down. ] Cutler. Pleased as punch.
S'pity. He was a sweetheart. [ There and again. Hinges on definition. ] Dodgy on the mood, but I s'pose he'd be getting senile.
They're not like us, y'know. Old Ones get worn down to the nub.
WELL
SIR
How'd--this is hell, isn'it? We went so bad they gave us a plot to ourselves.
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I won't rule out the possibility. But my experience thus far suggests that would be far too straightforward.
Why? Sorry to see me?
[It's a tease, except for the foundation beneath that isn't quite. It has been a while, and he knows how easily bored his wife is. Was. Is.]
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Like she's come home after finally getting suited to being away. This one good, warm thing. Is that rush love, or sinking with a block round her ankle? A leash. ]
You were my world, you're-- [ The check and balance. Her guiding hand, her lover, maker, fucking heartbreaker. ] Y'died for Mitchell. I needed you. It got so backwards, everything lost its colour.
I made a mess.
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I told you we should have gone to Cambodia.
[He extends a hand to her.]
You know I like messy, though.
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But for the fun she'd had without him, that pinch, she needs to rinse it right off. Husband and wife, seemingly never going to properly part. She rolls on her tiptoes, so near. Yet her face suddenly one of abject disappointment. ] I never made it to every continent. [ She'd kept putting off a cut rate ship to Antarctica. ]
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[Anything he's done that needs forgiving, she doesn't know about, and he thinks it's probably best that way.]