[ eventually is drawing nearer and nearer. she'd have gotten to it already if she could keep a steady pace. instead, she stops and starts, stumbles and sprints. tonight might end up as the night she abandons any hope of reversing course.
liquor has her languid from head to toe, her maelstrom of thoughts calmed to gently swirling eddies. her last reserves of energy flow invisibly beneath the surface. she could lie her for hours as easily as she could sit up climb on top of him. Jess decides she is content as she is, declines the effort of any further choices. the two of them can fuck in the morning. ]
Hell is other people. [ That's the only Sartre quote she remembers from a lifetime ago. its origin, an intro to philosophy class or an ex-boyfriend's off-broadway show, is lost to her. ]
[his eyebrows jump up; he did not expect her to know Sarte.] Ah. I think Monsieur Sarte would have liked you. You do not even try to make yourself happy. [it is more an observation of habits than any sort of insult-- Jessica is obvious enough about it. he has not pried.
his fingers rub back and forth against her elbow as a yawn splits his lips. this is too comfortable for what they are but they have been this way from the beginning, have they not? even when they are fighting there is something too easy in it.] I have bacon, [he says, his voice a murmur as he lets his eyes close.]
[ an astute observation, phrased less judgmentally than she usually gets it. she doubts JP's admiration would have been mutual. philosophers are so up their own asses. besides, the world is miserable enough without a No Exit sequel imparting the wisdom "hell is yourself, too."
Jess shuts her eyes, the blackness behind them swaying imperceptibly. at the random mention of bacon, her lip twitches, the closest her body can muster to a chuckle. ]
Oh la la. [ sinking into sleep, she can't come up with anything cleverer or more relevant than that. ]
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liquor has her languid from head to toe, her maelstrom of thoughts calmed to gently swirling eddies. her last reserves of energy flow invisibly beneath the surface. she could lie her for hours as easily as she could sit up climb on top of him. Jess decides she is content as she is, declines the effort of any further choices. the two of them can fuck in the morning. ]
Hell is other people. [ That's the only Sartre quote she remembers from a lifetime ago. its origin, an intro to philosophy class or an ex-boyfriend's off-broadway show, is lost to her. ]
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his fingers rub back and forth against her elbow as a yawn splits his lips. this is too comfortable for what they are but they have been this way from the beginning, have they not? even when they are fighting there is something too easy in it.] I have bacon, [he says, his voice a murmur as he lets his eyes close.]
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Jess shuts her eyes, the blackness behind them swaying imperceptibly. at the random mention of bacon, her lip twitches, the closest her body can muster to a chuckle. ]
Oh la la. [ sinking into sleep, she can't come up with anything cleverer or more relevant than that. ]