A/N: So after the saga of Start of Defeat etc, I originally thought it'd be straight to a comical story about a ravid badger in CID, but no, we're back to very short (and poorly written) angsty monologues! Hoorah! Aaanyway, so I always feel that I can get into Gene's head so easily and find Alex a real challenge; so this is my attempt of getting into her mindset, or a certain version thereof. I'm not sure how she'd react to being stuck in the Railway Arms, but here's my poor offering.
Is that alright with you Gene? Can you leave me here, stuck in a pub- A BLOODY PUB, GENE- while you strut around Fenchurch, broad shouldered and northern, down some dingy alley, that battered shitty old coat hanging off you, getting sucked off by a prostitute and smoking a fag. Is that Ok? You made me come here, made me commit myself to endless futile days of darts and drink. At least I had something to do on the outside.
Very noble of you Gene. How many other women have you snogged and then shoved into the pub? How many others fell head over heels for you before you bundled them into the afterlife, which is, coincidentally, shit. Utter shit, Gene! Now I'm stuck in this useless, mind numbing place while you're out there having the time of your life. Bet you're out there now with some twenty-something tight-arsed slag balancing on your balls, aren't you? You BASTARD!
You leave me with a kiss. I kissed you, Gene, nothing else. For months and months, I'd just watch you through the glass, sitting at your desk, brooding. I'd look at the way your eyes went darker when you were moody, I'd watch your mouth around a whiskey glass, I'd watch the way it fit perfectly, how they caressed it, how the amber liquid stayed moist and glistening around your lips... And the worst part is Gene, I don't just want you to fuck me, use me, I want you to love me. I love you and that's the worst thing about it.
I'm a whiskey drinker now. I feel it on my lips and I think of you. I like the way the hot, sweet liquid runs down my neck. I like the smell of it, the way it burns as it goes down. Pain and pleasure united in one, rough and rugged drink. One rough and rugged man.
Nelson watches. He watches me drink you. And I just look at him. I lick you off my lips. He looks away. I don't belong. He knows. He won't let me go.
A/N: A little more sexual than I set out for...in fact, a lot of it wasn't really intended to be, but looking back I'm seeing a load of dodgy subtexts. SephyRose, (the only person on here who I have to see in real life,) please don't think me a pervert, I just thought I'd give it a go...character study wise...Oh Christ, you think I'm a pervert.
Anyway, scandalised reviews are welcome. :/
Ugh-I just read it back and freaked myself out.