Bloodred Senseless - Chapter 8: Gone
Vaughn was gone. She had spent an hour crying, part of the time in the tub and the rest in her car. There wasn't a part of her that hadn't shaken from the violent sobs that had been extracted from her very soul.
She had known that there would be a day, a day that's reason for being was to ruin her ability to love. The day had come too quickly, though, and the pure shock of not being able to run to Vaughn in her moment of pain was still registering.
Tears had flowed freely at first, but towards the end her reserves seemed to disappear. It was dry sobbing then, loud and scratchy. Her moss green bathrobe stretched tightly shut, she sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to get it out of her system but knowing it would never happen.
She went to the kitchen to make some tea to soothe her throat, still shuddering every few seconds as she stepped gingerly away from her bedroom. It was then that she saw the set of mugs she and Vaughn had bought at Pier 1, fantasizing about the day they could live together without worry. The mug her hand was on fell to the floor, shattering into a million pieces not unlike her heart had. The set was uneven now, three instead of four. Her hand pushed another down to the ground to meet its twin.
For the first time, anger flushed her system, and she slammed the countertop with her fist. The clay jars sitting on the counters rattled against one another, leaving a high-pitched ring. The ring seemed to get to her, though. Sydney took a deep breath before going to the table and sitting at the closest chair, carefully setting her feet below the chair and her arms on the table. She placed her head in her hands, staring out the window; thinking, watching the sun bring the oak of the table to a soft glow. Slowly, she slipped into sleep.
-
Outside the club, Vaughn pondered returning to his apartment. His car was only yards away from him, and a glance at his watch informed him that it was nearing eleven o'clock. There was nothing to do, it seemed, than grab a pizza and watch some ESPN. Instead, inches from his sedan, he stopped, turned sharply, and re-entered the bar.
Even if she wanted to kill him afterwards, he wouldn't leave without her.
The smoky air hit him quickly; he hadn't noticed it before. Maybe it was because this time he had a goal, whereas the first time he had pushed the door open, he had been tailing Sydney. Squinting in the dim light (another feature he had not acknowledged previously), Sydney was nowhere to be found. Worried, as he usually was when Sydney was concerned, he pushed his way through the crowd to the bar, where he found a barkeep who looked at him strangely.
"I've got a feeling."
"That's nice," Vaughn replied hurriedly, still searching for Sydney.
"If you're that woman in black's boyfriend, I've got something for you."
This stopped Vaughn. He turned and focused on the man two feet away, ready to grab his collar and force him to tell him the information he knew. Instead of words, he received a glass filled with a strange dark colored liquid.
"Trust me, I'd down that pretty quickly if I was you. You're not going to see her anytime soon."
A fiery glint sparkled in Vaughn's eyes as he took the glass and poured its contents down his throat, swallowing the bitter liquid harshly. "Fuck."
-
The mission had ended, but both Sydney and Vaughn had gallons of adrenaline pulsing through their systems. Every few seconds they would glance at one another, still shocked at what they were getting away with. Not for the first time, Sydney cursed the size of the Bellagio as she and Vaughn ran through its multiple hallways that seemed endless. Her hand was intertwined with his and only the sheer excitement pounding through her was allowing her to follow him instead of leading.
Finally, the room had appeared in front of them. They had registered it in Vaughn's mother's name, unknown to her. It was the only way they could get past Security Section. Vaughn took a deep breath and looked at Sydney, locking eyes. He pulled the passkey out of a pocket and slid it through the reader, unlocking the door.
Nice had been too long ago.
-
She woke quite suddenly, afraid of the dream she had experienced with unbelievably vivid detail. Vaughn, seconds after debriefing her for a mission she didn't know, was sitting too close to Alice. It was like he forgot she existed already.
There were two things she usually did when she was emotionally conflicted: call Vaughn, or go for a run. At the moment, both made her feel like crying again. She made up her mind, decided to do something completely out of the ordinary. Headed to her bedroom, looking for that black outfit she had bought years ago.
-
as jack bristow said, "There's rarely an end to the story." that seems to be the problem...
i decided to visit some old characters we had left oh so long ago. fyi: that little section of chapter 6 was indeed a dream sequence.
and this has indeed gone by the way of a good old soap opera. we dont have many of those any more. of course, i wouldnt know, but still...
wow, pronouns are annoying
Vaughn was gone. She had spent an hour crying, part of the time in the tub and the rest in her car. There wasn't a part of her that hadn't shaken from the violent sobs that had been extracted from her very soul.
She had known that there would be a day, a day that's reason for being was to ruin her ability to love. The day had come too quickly, though, and the pure shock of not being able to run to Vaughn in her moment of pain was still registering.
Tears had flowed freely at first, but towards the end her reserves seemed to disappear. It was dry sobbing then, loud and scratchy. Her moss green bathrobe stretched tightly shut, she sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to get it out of her system but knowing it would never happen.
She went to the kitchen to make some tea to soothe her throat, still shuddering every few seconds as she stepped gingerly away from her bedroom. It was then that she saw the set of mugs she and Vaughn had bought at Pier 1, fantasizing about the day they could live together without worry. The mug her hand was on fell to the floor, shattering into a million pieces not unlike her heart had. The set was uneven now, three instead of four. Her hand pushed another down to the ground to meet its twin.
For the first time, anger flushed her system, and she slammed the countertop with her fist. The clay jars sitting on the counters rattled against one another, leaving a high-pitched ring. The ring seemed to get to her, though. Sydney took a deep breath before going to the table and sitting at the closest chair, carefully setting her feet below the chair and her arms on the table. She placed her head in her hands, staring out the window; thinking, watching the sun bring the oak of the table to a soft glow. Slowly, she slipped into sleep.
-
Outside the club, Vaughn pondered returning to his apartment. His car was only yards away from him, and a glance at his watch informed him that it was nearing eleven o'clock. There was nothing to do, it seemed, than grab a pizza and watch some ESPN. Instead, inches from his sedan, he stopped, turned sharply, and re-entered the bar.
Even if she wanted to kill him afterwards, he wouldn't leave without her.
The smoky air hit him quickly; he hadn't noticed it before. Maybe it was because this time he had a goal, whereas the first time he had pushed the door open, he had been tailing Sydney. Squinting in the dim light (another feature he had not acknowledged previously), Sydney was nowhere to be found. Worried, as he usually was when Sydney was concerned, he pushed his way through the crowd to the bar, where he found a barkeep who looked at him strangely.
"I've got a feeling."
"That's nice," Vaughn replied hurriedly, still searching for Sydney.
"If you're that woman in black's boyfriend, I've got something for you."
This stopped Vaughn. He turned and focused on the man two feet away, ready to grab his collar and force him to tell him the information he knew. Instead of words, he received a glass filled with a strange dark colored liquid.
"Trust me, I'd down that pretty quickly if I was you. You're not going to see her anytime soon."
A fiery glint sparkled in Vaughn's eyes as he took the glass and poured its contents down his throat, swallowing the bitter liquid harshly. "Fuck."
-
The mission had ended, but both Sydney and Vaughn had gallons of adrenaline pulsing through their systems. Every few seconds they would glance at one another, still shocked at what they were getting away with. Not for the first time, Sydney cursed the size of the Bellagio as she and Vaughn ran through its multiple hallways that seemed endless. Her hand was intertwined with his and only the sheer excitement pounding through her was allowing her to follow him instead of leading.
Finally, the room had appeared in front of them. They had registered it in Vaughn's mother's name, unknown to her. It was the only way they could get past Security Section. Vaughn took a deep breath and looked at Sydney, locking eyes. He pulled the passkey out of a pocket and slid it through the reader, unlocking the door.
Nice had been too long ago.
-
She woke quite suddenly, afraid of the dream she had experienced with unbelievably vivid detail. Vaughn, seconds after debriefing her for a mission she didn't know, was sitting too close to Alice. It was like he forgot she existed already.
There were two things she usually did when she was emotionally conflicted: call Vaughn, or go for a run. At the moment, both made her feel like crying again. She made up her mind, decided to do something completely out of the ordinary. Headed to her bedroom, looking for that black outfit she had bought years ago.
-
as jack bristow said, "There's rarely an end to the story." that seems to be the problem...
i decided to visit some old characters we had left oh so long ago. fyi: that little section of chapter 6 was indeed a dream sequence.
and this has indeed gone by the way of a good old soap opera. we dont have many of those any more. of course, i wouldnt know, but still...
wow, pronouns are annoying