life @ 23, chapter 7: 23, Part 1
Jan. 13th, 2009 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkuplife @ 23
Chapter 7: 23, Part 1
Tasha invites Daniel and Sophie to her flat for dinner, once she’s sure Sophie’s settled in for the duration of the trip. Although she and Rafe had gotten married, they had no desire to change the way they had all been friends. And, when her bell rang, announcing Sophie’s arrival, a stern look reminded Daniel—the first of the two to arrive for the night—that he wasn’t the one in charge.
The woman who enters may have had the same name as the girl who left them a few years before, but the only similarities they shared were in the nuances, the unmistakable way she spoke. They greet her like the old friend she was, commenting on the obvious changes in her looks. She smiles in acknowledgement and lets them lead her into the dining room where Daniel was waiting impatiently.
The way Sophie pauses in the doorway as her eyes pass over Daniel feels cut from the pages of some strange romantic storyline, unfinished but hinting at what is to come. He finds himself standing in deference, unable to shift his gaze away from her. She has to visibly force herself to step into the room. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be near him; it’s that she didn’t expect to see him so soon in her trip, where she’s hardly prepared for the emotions that threaten to drown her.
“Sophie.” Even knowing she was going to be there was nothing to tell him how he should act on seeing her. He couldn’t stop the welling of feeling in his voice, the weight of untold things in just the mention of her name.
The fine shiver that runs the course of her body is just visible enough to cause her to step forward and hug him, just to suppress that neediness and hide from further comment. “It’s always ages since I saw you last, Daniel. I miss you.”
“You shouldn’t stay so long away.” He doesn’t accuse her, knowing it’s his own fault that they haven’t spoken in months. But he felt every minute she was away like a physical ache.
“I agree,” Tasha says sweetly, joining up their arms in a partial hug. “You should always come back more often. You’re sorely missed.” She guides her best friend into the dining room and gestures for the men folk to follow. “You came just in time. Dinner’s ready.”
Sophie risks glancing at Daniel partway through the meal, unsurprised to see he’s watching her openly. She doesn’t quite know what to do with herself in regards to him, uneasy in his presence. The conversation only helps the feeling subside a little, as she finds herself regaling them with stories of what she’d gotten up to in the more than a year apart. She’s unselfconscious when she talks now, she knows, and relaxes in the presence of so many people she knows and loves.
In the quiet after the meal, when they’re spread out onto sofas and chairs in the living room with glasses of wine and comfortably warm with affection, he stretches a hand across to rest just inside her personal space, the heat of it radiating through the scant space between it and her leg. She looks at him sharply, caught deer-in-headlights as she remembers being with him so many times before. He slides over quietly and, very gently, as if it were stolen and she was fragile as glass, he places a kiss at the corner of her mouth. A breath escaped from her lips as her eyes blinked shut momentarily.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Are you back to stay?” he asks warily, eyes searching out hers, but not making any kind of consistent contact. She shakes her head and looks down at the glass of red wine still in her hands, eyes following the swirl of liquid there instead of the guarded hope in his eyes.
She smiles sardonically. “For a while, at least. It’s only fair, especially since emails do so little for a relationship.”
“You’ve changed,” he accuses her, though not angrily. She doesn’t want to argue it, doesn’t see any need to argue it when it’s the truth. But that bluntness reminds her of how distant he’s been, of how she’s become much more in the time between then and now.
Tasha and Rafe barely speak as they watch the growing unrest between their friends and guests. Could see the tension in Sophie’s back as Daniel kissed her. As much as she wants to help Sophie, Rafe holds her back. “No sense in getting involved, Tash. We knew what this was going to be like.” She casts him a pleading look, but he’s adamant and moves them instead to clearing away the empty glasses around.
“More than you could ever know, Danny boy.” He looks at Sophie askance at that comment. She sighs and relents. “Look, we can’t talk about it here. What are you doing later? Can you take me home?”
“Tasha,” Daniel says aloud without taking his eyes off the girl he used to know, “I should take Sophie back to her flat. It’s late and she needs someone to look after her.” Sophie lets the involuntary indignation at the blunt remark go, agreeing that it was for the best, considering the way their conversation turned. Tasha did not like it either, but agreed in the end.
The ride back is unsurprisingly silent, except for a direction given here or there. Sophie keeps her gaze firmly on the road ahead, wishing that every look at Daniel did not lend itself to pain. He was still the honest, perfect boy of 19 that never had to deal with emotional baggage… at least, in her mind. Even now, with his face drawn up in a scowl, she could not be rid of the image.
When she opens the door to her flat, he stands at the entry with his hands in his pockets and murmurs a goodnight. Sophie stares at him blankly. “Aren’t you coming in to talk?”
He shrugs and sighs softly. “What’s there to talk about? You say you’ve changed, and I don’t disagree. You’re still you, I don’t doubt that. I don’t see why that should change us, who we are to each other.”
She pulls him inside and shut the door. “So there actually is an ‘us’? It wasn’t just web games?”
“What? Web… Is that what you think this is? What gave you that idea?”
She shakes her head. “That’s not the issue. But I was thinking about us… about what we know about each other. What you do and don’t know about me. I didn’t think…. How could you want me if I’m not the girl you knew?”
The touch of his hand spreads like the caress of shadows on the wall. “Everyone changes, Sophie love. It’s part of growing up.” She looks at him blankly. “If we didn’t change, we’d never stop making the same silly mistakes. It’s part of who we are.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asks weakly, stepping closer to him until she can smell the faint scent of sandalwood in his clothes, feel the heat of him seeping out through the jacket he wears.
“I’m not the same boy you once knew.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m braver than I ever was, Sophie.”
Chapter 7: 23, Part 1
Tasha invites Daniel and Sophie to her flat for dinner, once she’s sure Sophie’s settled in for the duration of the trip. Although she and Rafe had gotten married, they had no desire to change the way they had all been friends. And, when her bell rang, announcing Sophie’s arrival, a stern look reminded Daniel—the first of the two to arrive for the night—that he wasn’t the one in charge.
The woman who enters may have had the same name as the girl who left them a few years before, but the only similarities they shared were in the nuances, the unmistakable way she spoke. They greet her like the old friend she was, commenting on the obvious changes in her looks. She smiles in acknowledgement and lets them lead her into the dining room where Daniel was waiting impatiently.
The way Sophie pauses in the doorway as her eyes pass over Daniel feels cut from the pages of some strange romantic storyline, unfinished but hinting at what is to come. He finds himself standing in deference, unable to shift his gaze away from her. She has to visibly force herself to step into the room. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be near him; it’s that she didn’t expect to see him so soon in her trip, where she’s hardly prepared for the emotions that threaten to drown her.
“Sophie.” Even knowing she was going to be there was nothing to tell him how he should act on seeing her. He couldn’t stop the welling of feeling in his voice, the weight of untold things in just the mention of her name.
The fine shiver that runs the course of her body is just visible enough to cause her to step forward and hug him, just to suppress that neediness and hide from further comment. “It’s always ages since I saw you last, Daniel. I miss you.”
“You shouldn’t stay so long away.” He doesn’t accuse her, knowing it’s his own fault that they haven’t spoken in months. But he felt every minute she was away like a physical ache.
“I agree,” Tasha says sweetly, joining up their arms in a partial hug. “You should always come back more often. You’re sorely missed.” She guides her best friend into the dining room and gestures for the men folk to follow. “You came just in time. Dinner’s ready.”
Sophie risks glancing at Daniel partway through the meal, unsurprised to see he’s watching her openly. She doesn’t quite know what to do with herself in regards to him, uneasy in his presence. The conversation only helps the feeling subside a little, as she finds herself regaling them with stories of what she’d gotten up to in the more than a year apart. She’s unselfconscious when she talks now, she knows, and relaxes in the presence of so many people she knows and loves.
In the quiet after the meal, when they’re spread out onto sofas and chairs in the living room with glasses of wine and comfortably warm with affection, he stretches a hand across to rest just inside her personal space, the heat of it radiating through the scant space between it and her leg. She looks at him sharply, caught deer-in-headlights as she remembers being with him so many times before. He slides over quietly and, very gently, as if it were stolen and she was fragile as glass, he places a kiss at the corner of her mouth. A breath escaped from her lips as her eyes blinked shut momentarily.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Are you back to stay?” he asks warily, eyes searching out hers, but not making any kind of consistent contact. She shakes her head and looks down at the glass of red wine still in her hands, eyes following the swirl of liquid there instead of the guarded hope in his eyes.
She smiles sardonically. “For a while, at least. It’s only fair, especially since emails do so little for a relationship.”
“You’ve changed,” he accuses her, though not angrily. She doesn’t want to argue it, doesn’t see any need to argue it when it’s the truth. But that bluntness reminds her of how distant he’s been, of how she’s become much more in the time between then and now.
Tasha and Rafe barely speak as they watch the growing unrest between their friends and guests. Could see the tension in Sophie’s back as Daniel kissed her. As much as she wants to help Sophie, Rafe holds her back. “No sense in getting involved, Tash. We knew what this was going to be like.” She casts him a pleading look, but he’s adamant and moves them instead to clearing away the empty glasses around.
“More than you could ever know, Danny boy.” He looks at Sophie askance at that comment. She sighs and relents. “Look, we can’t talk about it here. What are you doing later? Can you take me home?”
“Tasha,” Daniel says aloud without taking his eyes off the girl he used to know, “I should take Sophie back to her flat. It’s late and she needs someone to look after her.” Sophie lets the involuntary indignation at the blunt remark go, agreeing that it was for the best, considering the way their conversation turned. Tasha did not like it either, but agreed in the end.
The ride back is unsurprisingly silent, except for a direction given here or there. Sophie keeps her gaze firmly on the road ahead, wishing that every look at Daniel did not lend itself to pain. He was still the honest, perfect boy of 19 that never had to deal with emotional baggage… at least, in her mind. Even now, with his face drawn up in a scowl, she could not be rid of the image.
When she opens the door to her flat, he stands at the entry with his hands in his pockets and murmurs a goodnight. Sophie stares at him blankly. “Aren’t you coming in to talk?”
He shrugs and sighs softly. “What’s there to talk about? You say you’ve changed, and I don’t disagree. You’re still you, I don’t doubt that. I don’t see why that should change us, who we are to each other.”
She pulls him inside and shut the door. “So there actually is an ‘us’? It wasn’t just web games?”
“What? Web… Is that what you think this is? What gave you that idea?”
She shakes her head. “That’s not the issue. But I was thinking about us… about what we know about each other. What you do and don’t know about me. I didn’t think…. How could you want me if I’m not the girl you knew?”
The touch of his hand spreads like the caress of shadows on the wall. “Everyone changes, Sophie love. It’s part of growing up.” She looks at him blankly. “If we didn’t change, we’d never stop making the same silly mistakes. It’s part of who we are.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asks weakly, stepping closer to him until she can smell the faint scent of sandalwood in his clothes, feel the heat of him seeping out through the jacket he wears.
“I’m not the same boy you once knew.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m braver than I ever was, Sophie.”
