(no subject)

[teetheyes]

Dear Cori,

This is it, Cori. This is all that there is; I know it’s hard. I hope that by the time you’ve gotten this letter, you’ve started to move on, but maybe that’s too much to ask. I know that’s the problem with eternity. Mundies have it much easier, as if they don’t take as long to get over things.

But if it means anything to you.

I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything. I was never really very sexual, and I still don’t consider myself very sexual, because there’s only one person I really ever have sex with. You open me up, you see me whole. You appreciate the fighter and the musician and you know, you’ve always known, that despite the fact that I don’t want this war, that I had to go. And most importantly, you’re satisfied with the office clerk in me, the boy who never was good at love or glory or passion. You’re satisfied with that, and that is the greatest gift you could ever give me.

So I can only give you everything of me.

It’s very late, while I’m writing this. It’s very quiet in the house, and you’re fast asleep. I’m crying because I can’t bear to think of how lonely you’ll be. I don’t want you to be lonely, Cori.

I said if you ever treated me badly I’d put you in the doghouse; and I still adhere to that. But you’ve been the most loyal and loving nightmare I’ve ever known (nevermind you’re the only nightmare I’ve ever known) and with the exception of a few rare instances of your brilliant idiocy, I’ve never wanted you out of my life.

I will remember you forever. Even if I die at war, even if I cannot dream, even if I live until the sun dies, I will remember you.

You’ve put part of me at peace, and I will always be with you.

After this letter, there isn’t much left to keep you engaged, but I hope that hunting for them, looking for them has kept you from being miserable. Please try and be okay, Cori. Let someone else in. Friendship can only help.

Love,

Boy Blue

I despise you.

[ooc: Strikeouts NOT there. Thing from Constantine dead buried in the middle of the street, except it's not quite real so he's even more pissed! Approach with caution.]

Comments

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

Cold.

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Don't make me find you a shoot you to keep you in one place.

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

Try me.

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Cori.

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

Leave me alone, Faye.

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Fine.

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[Sittin' in his cell.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

[Comin' up to your cell and leanin' on your bars.]

What's new, pussycat?

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[Catlike hiss, more for the punchline than actual aggression.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Down boy.

[Pulls a chair up that she found down the hall at that and plops down in it, elbows on her knees. She wore hot pants just for him.]

What the fuck happened?

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[He appreciates the curves, in his own nightmarish way.]

What do you think?

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Do I really have to state the obvious?

[She looks him over, it's less scathing than you'd think, and then takes out her cigarettes.]

You look like hell.

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

Then don't ask obvious questions.

[Sigh.]

No shit. I feel like hell.

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

Stop being a jerk to me. I didn't do shit to you.

[It's probably not allowed, but she lights two cigarettes. Keeping one for herself, she hands the other through the bars and holds it out.]

This'll make you feel better. There's nothing like nicotine.

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[He doesn't address her request but does shuffle forward to take that cigarette desperately. DRAG. Ahhhhh.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

[There's no ash tray, so the floor will have to do. Not that Faye cares, and she has a sneaky suspicion Cori doesn't either.]

So how long are they making you stay?

[Puff puff.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[No that Cori cares for the upkeep. Tap tap.]

Fuck if I know. I guess you'd have to ask that son of a bitch Styles.

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

[She crosses one leg over the other and leans forward, face closer to the bars so that she can nearly look at him directly.]

Styles? He called you in? What the hell did you do to him?

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[Puff.]

Does punching out his side view mirror count as defacing property?

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

[Inhales a little too hard on the cigarette.]

Are you insane or something?

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

[Stare.]

What.

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

[Stare back.]

You basically put yourself in here.

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

Congratulations. Do you want a prize?

[Puuuuuuff.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[glock30.livejournal.com]

I want my cake.

[It's said plainly but the way she's looking at him is enough to imply she wishes he'd stop behaving this way.]

At least he isn't Gren?

[bitingnightmare.livejournal.com]

I can't cook in prison.

[Seeing that look. Sigh.]