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31_days2011-01-16 10:31 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-01-16 10:31 pm
[Jan 16][Original] Darling, I’m not a perv
Title: Darling, I’m not a perv
Day / Theme: January 16 / love songs last longer than lovers ever do
Series: Original – Halcyon’s Mandate
Characters: Adrian, Peg (the girl with too many names that never stay)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1036
When she woke up that morning to an unfamiliar white ceiling, it was easy to just think of it as just another hotel room. It was a very gorgeous room in a very expensive hotel, with a view of the crashing waves through a floor-to-ceiling window. The wrought metal trimmings, the bolt of sheer white fluttering with the sea breeze, and the sterling blue palette outside blending with the sea-green of the walls, created a snapshot that seemed torn from a vacation catalogue.
The spell was broken when a text message came through her ancient phone from her host, telling her that he would be coming by for her in half an hour. The message was innocuous enough. It was the fact that she didn’t have a whit of signal and that her battery proclaimed full bars after distinctly dying yesterday evening when they crossed into the borders of her boyfriend’s home country—riding a northbound R train from the Grand Central. He had, at some point during the six months they had been dating, told her about an elder brother, the elder brother’s fiancée, an elder sister, and a grandfather. During the trip, he had occupied her attention by telling him about other people she would be meeting and spending time with, warning her about their little idiosyncrasies. Even though Adrian wasn’t the figurative type, she figured it was merely in a matter of speaking when he referred to these people with official-sounding titles and gave short descriptions like, “He’s a northwestern ogre , so don’t mention Yetis,” or, “she’s a tropical rainforest dryad, so don’t ask about the pale green skin—she’s not getting enough water here.”
Peg thought it was all a big joke.
But there she was, in the guest quarters of what appeared to be a real-life castle, with servants that he had probably asked not to show themselves to her. The modest change of clothes she had brought with her was neatly hanging in a corner of the cavernous walk-in closet, but an attire was set out for her already, laid at the foot of her bed. Her toiletries were spread out in the bathroom, which was an all-white affair of wide-spanning mirrors and incandescent lamps that recalled burlesque dressing rooms as stylized in old movies. She stopped herself from exploring it any further, shrinking into herself at the enormity of such a basic room.
When she opened the faucet, music began playing.
I’m not a perv,
Darling, they’re mistaken.
I swear to the Halcyon,
there was no slip of ni—
She turned off the golden faucet to hear where it was coming from, but all she heard was the thrum of her battery-operated, Flynn Rider toothbrush (Adrian’s idea of a stocking-stuffer last Christmas). She shook her head, thinking she must have imagined the weird, wheedling voice and the scratchy, old-recording feel of the music, and finished brushing her teeth. When she opened the tap, the song, unmistakably began again.
..ps,
If there was, I didn’t
Really didn’t see.
I swear, I’m not
Darling, they’re the pervs
She shut off the tap.
Silence
She turned on the tap.
I’m not—
Turned off the tap.
…
Turned on the tap.
…a perv,
Sweetheart, they’re wrong
I swear to the Valley,
I didn’t go to Cali
Even if I did,
It wasn’t, really wasn’t
for glistening beach bodies
I like the cadaver-pale you
The repetitive beats and odd mixture of jazz and reggae reminded her strongly of ‘80’s music, but the lyrics were just something else. She resigned herself to having to listen to it while she finished washing her face. The silence, as she dressed herself with the white linen tunic, tan cotton breeches, and soft laced-up booties, was golden.
For some reason, she didn’t feel like she needed to put make up on, even though she was likely to meet others of Adrian’s odd relatives and friends and that she needed to make a good impression. There wasn’t likely anything she could hide in this strange… wherever.
As promised, a knock came on her door thirty minutes later. She opened the door to the reflecting face of her boyfriend, who’s usual expression was an I-know-something-you-don’t ghost of a smirk. His clothes were similarly low-key but archaic, like hers, but he looked quite princely, clichéd as that sounded.
“It suits you,” he said in approval. “Good morning, Peg.”
The kiss she returned was almost perfunctory, then, “Adrian, there’s a song coming out of my faucet,” she reported, her blue-eyes wide and her skin crawling with goose flesh. “It sounded like a Police rip-off, and contrary to the repetitive lyrics, the speaker is a verifiable pervert.”
The physics major groaned in the manner of a college home-comer encountering embarrassing family secrets. “So that’s where it went,” he muttered.
“Where what went?”
“Um, Peg,” he began, running a hand through his rust-colored, (for once) un-gelled hair. “You might have noticed that I don’t exactly have a normal family.”
She hyperventilated twice before successfully taking a hold of herself. “I’m suspended in a suspension of disbelief,” she assured him. “Everything is just peachy, Adrian. What went where?”
“Right. Please forgive my late father. Till the day he died, I don’t think he had a clear notion of what a love song is.”
“That was supposed to be a love song?”
“The first thing I did when I first arrived in New York was hex his best friend to bits.”
Peg ignored this.
“They were harmless, really, but I felt like I needed to defend my mother’s honor. She tried throwing it away for so many times, but it just keeps popping up in the worst places.”
“The bathroom is huge,” she finally said. “Like voyeuristic huge.”
Adrian’s grin turned a tad smarmy.
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered. “I’m not a perv, but I won’t turn away. Fuh.”
“Let’s tour the castle.” Adrian changed the subject kindly. “My budget went over paying for your voyeuristic bathroom that I had to give back the pedantic tour guide.”
“Will I get lost and randomly spook future guests in your house?”
“Not if you hold my hand.”
Ah, but it was crazy from the start, so she did.
2209 01162011
Day / Theme: January 16 / love songs last longer than lovers ever do
Series: Original – Halcyon’s Mandate
Characters: Adrian, Peg (the girl with too many names that never stay)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1036
When she woke up that morning to an unfamiliar white ceiling, it was easy to just think of it as just another hotel room. It was a very gorgeous room in a very expensive hotel, with a view of the crashing waves through a floor-to-ceiling window. The wrought metal trimmings, the bolt of sheer white fluttering with the sea breeze, and the sterling blue palette outside blending with the sea-green of the walls, created a snapshot that seemed torn from a vacation catalogue.
The spell was broken when a text message came through her ancient phone from her host, telling her that he would be coming by for her in half an hour. The message was innocuous enough. It was the fact that she didn’t have a whit of signal and that her battery proclaimed full bars after distinctly dying yesterday evening when they crossed into the borders of her boyfriend’s home country—riding a northbound R train from the Grand Central. He had, at some point during the six months they had been dating, told her about an elder brother, the elder brother’s fiancée, an elder sister, and a grandfather. During the trip, he had occupied her attention by telling him about other people she would be meeting and spending time with, warning her about their little idiosyncrasies. Even though Adrian wasn’t the figurative type, she figured it was merely in a matter of speaking when he referred to these people with official-sounding titles and gave short descriptions like, “He’s a northwestern ogre , so don’t mention Yetis,” or, “she’s a tropical rainforest dryad, so don’t ask about the pale green skin—she’s not getting enough water here.”
Peg thought it was all a big joke.
But there she was, in the guest quarters of what appeared to be a real-life castle, with servants that he had probably asked not to show themselves to her. The modest change of clothes she had brought with her was neatly hanging in a corner of the cavernous walk-in closet, but an attire was set out for her already, laid at the foot of her bed. Her toiletries were spread out in the bathroom, which was an all-white affair of wide-spanning mirrors and incandescent lamps that recalled burlesque dressing rooms as stylized in old movies. She stopped herself from exploring it any further, shrinking into herself at the enormity of such a basic room.
When she opened the faucet, music began playing.
I’m not a perv,
Darling, they’re mistaken.
I swear to the Halcyon,
there was no slip of ni—
She turned off the golden faucet to hear where it was coming from, but all she heard was the thrum of her battery-operated, Flynn Rider toothbrush (Adrian’s idea of a stocking-stuffer last Christmas). She shook her head, thinking she must have imagined the weird, wheedling voice and the scratchy, old-recording feel of the music, and finished brushing her teeth. When she opened the tap, the song, unmistakably began again.
..ps,
If there was, I didn’t
Really didn’t see.
I swear, I’m not
Darling, they’re the pervs
She shut off the tap.
Silence
She turned on the tap.
I’m not—
Turned off the tap.
…
Turned on the tap.
…a perv,
Sweetheart, they’re wrong
I swear to the Valley,
I didn’t go to Cali
Even if I did,
It wasn’t, really wasn’t
for glistening beach bodies
I like the cadaver-pale you
The repetitive beats and odd mixture of jazz and reggae reminded her strongly of ‘80’s music, but the lyrics were just something else. She resigned herself to having to listen to it while she finished washing her face. The silence, as she dressed herself with the white linen tunic, tan cotton breeches, and soft laced-up booties, was golden.
For some reason, she didn’t feel like she needed to put make up on, even though she was likely to meet others of Adrian’s odd relatives and friends and that she needed to make a good impression. There wasn’t likely anything she could hide in this strange… wherever.
As promised, a knock came on her door thirty minutes later. She opened the door to the reflecting face of her boyfriend, who’s usual expression was an I-know-something-you-don’t ghost of a smirk. His clothes were similarly low-key but archaic, like hers, but he looked quite princely, clichéd as that sounded.
“It suits you,” he said in approval. “Good morning, Peg.”
The kiss she returned was almost perfunctory, then, “Adrian, there’s a song coming out of my faucet,” she reported, her blue-eyes wide and her skin crawling with goose flesh. “It sounded like a Police rip-off, and contrary to the repetitive lyrics, the speaker is a verifiable pervert.”
The physics major groaned in the manner of a college home-comer encountering embarrassing family secrets. “So that’s where it went,” he muttered.
“Where what went?”
“Um, Peg,” he began, running a hand through his rust-colored, (for once) un-gelled hair. “You might have noticed that I don’t exactly have a normal family.”
She hyperventilated twice before successfully taking a hold of herself. “I’m suspended in a suspension of disbelief,” she assured him. “Everything is just peachy, Adrian. What went where?”
“Right. Please forgive my late father. Till the day he died, I don’t think he had a clear notion of what a love song is.”
“That was supposed to be a love song?”
“The first thing I did when I first arrived in New York was hex his best friend to bits.”
Peg ignored this.
“They were harmless, really, but I felt like I needed to defend my mother’s honor. She tried throwing it away for so many times, but it just keeps popping up in the worst places.”
“The bathroom is huge,” she finally said. “Like voyeuristic huge.”
Adrian’s grin turned a tad smarmy.
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered. “I’m not a perv, but I won’t turn away. Fuh.”
“Let’s tour the castle.” Adrian changed the subject kindly. “My budget went over paying for your voyeuristic bathroom that I had to give back the pedantic tour guide.”
“Will I get lost and randomly spook future guests in your house?”
“Not if you hold my hand.”
Ah, but it was crazy from the start, so she did.
2209 01162011