Post by Riley Creed on May 22, 2016 17:02:18 GMT -5
(Recap: Eric and Riley returned to their home. It has been a month since the loss of Jason, Eric's older brother and Riley's boyfriend. Tensions are high. Riley stormed into the house and Eric followed, though conversation is minimal. Currently, he is trying to get her to eat while he attempts to start a fire.)
Riley let him take the matches out of her hand, exchanged for the granola bar. She didn't want to eat, wasn't hungry, but she listened to Eric speak as he crossed into the living room. He told her to at least drink, that she needed to stay hydrated and not get sick. He'd called her Creed. She smiled a little at the nickname, soft, and surrendered to his concern. She opened the granola bar and took a bite, chewing the sticky bar between her teeth as she turned and leaned on the counter. She watched him run his hands through his hair and fiddle with the matches. They were probably too wet. She ate half of the bar before she held it out over the counter for him to view. "Want some?"
She watched as the matches broke and bent, too wet to use. She was too wet, too, and cold. She bit her lip, trying to stave off the sudden anger that welled in her chest. It wasn't his fault. She knew that. And yet she blamed him for everything. He asked if she had a lighter in her pack still, and the distraction temporarily quelled her fury. "I might. I have to go and check it."
She left the other half of the bar on the counter for him and walked into the hall, pausing when she heard him call and tell her to take off her wet coat. She moved over to the coat rack by the locked door and unzipped her wet jacket. She took it off and hung it up before she moved into the bedroom. She rummaged around in her pack in search of the lighter, but came up empty. She looked around the room, unable to remember where it had gone, and she rubbed her forehead with a cold hand.
Jason would know where the lighter was. Jason would know what to do. She let out a shaky sigh, feeling it all well up in her chest, threatening to spring to her eyes. She quickly crossed to the bedroom door and locked it. She stripped down out of her wet clothes, leaving them in a little pile by the window, her pale body bare and frigid. She crossed her arms over herself and moved to the bed, climbed in under the blankets and pulled them over her head. She curled up into a ball and let out a few slow breaths. She could feel them coming slowly at first, stinging her eyes, but after a few short breaths, she let it all out. She buried her face into the sheets and sobbed, covering her mouth to keep quiet. She didn't like to cry when Eric was awake, around. But today had been trying, and an exception would need to be made.
She gathered herself in slow, shaky breaths, and she sat sat up, she cursed under her breath. She could see herself in the vanity mirror attached to the dresser, her eyes red and puffy, the skin around them and her nose bright pink. She couldn't stay in this room until it faded away, she knew that. But she didn't want to face him like this, either. She threw the covers off and spent time getting dressed, giving her face time to relax. She pulled on a pair of boxers that she found in a drawer, not having the luxury to search for feminine underwear, and grabbed a yellow nightshirt from the apparent pajama drawer. She pulled it over her head, oversized, the shirt hanging down her behind and to her elbows. As she rubbed her eyes and fixed herself as best as she could in the mirror, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.
The lighter, balancing on the end of the dresser. She snatched it up and vacated the bedroom, the wood floor cold against her bare feet. The frigid air gave her goosebumps all over, made her nipples press against the baggy shirt. Her bra was just as damp as everything else that had been on her body, and it sat in the sad pile in the bedroom. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide the evidence of her body temperature, and came to sit next to Eric. She held the lighter out between her fingers, arms still crossed, and hoped he wouldn't notice her face. "This might make it easier."
Riley let him take the matches out of her hand, exchanged for the granola bar. She didn't want to eat, wasn't hungry, but she listened to Eric speak as he crossed into the living room. He told her to at least drink, that she needed to stay hydrated and not get sick. He'd called her Creed. She smiled a little at the nickname, soft, and surrendered to his concern. She opened the granola bar and took a bite, chewing the sticky bar between her teeth as she turned and leaned on the counter. She watched him run his hands through his hair and fiddle with the matches. They were probably too wet. She ate half of the bar before she held it out over the counter for him to view. "Want some?"
She watched as the matches broke and bent, too wet to use. She was too wet, too, and cold. She bit her lip, trying to stave off the sudden anger that welled in her chest. It wasn't his fault. She knew that. And yet she blamed him for everything. He asked if she had a lighter in her pack still, and the distraction temporarily quelled her fury. "I might. I have to go and check it."
She left the other half of the bar on the counter for him and walked into the hall, pausing when she heard him call and tell her to take off her wet coat. She moved over to the coat rack by the locked door and unzipped her wet jacket. She took it off and hung it up before she moved into the bedroom. She rummaged around in her pack in search of the lighter, but came up empty. She looked around the room, unable to remember where it had gone, and she rubbed her forehead with a cold hand.
Jason would know where the lighter was. Jason would know what to do. She let out a shaky sigh, feeling it all well up in her chest, threatening to spring to her eyes. She quickly crossed to the bedroom door and locked it. She stripped down out of her wet clothes, leaving them in a little pile by the window, her pale body bare and frigid. She crossed her arms over herself and moved to the bed, climbed in under the blankets and pulled them over her head. She curled up into a ball and let out a few slow breaths. She could feel them coming slowly at first, stinging her eyes, but after a few short breaths, she let it all out. She buried her face into the sheets and sobbed, covering her mouth to keep quiet. She didn't like to cry when Eric was awake, around. But today had been trying, and an exception would need to be made.
She gathered herself in slow, shaky breaths, and she sat sat up, she cursed under her breath. She could see herself in the vanity mirror attached to the dresser, her eyes red and puffy, the skin around them and her nose bright pink. She couldn't stay in this room until it faded away, she knew that. But she didn't want to face him like this, either. She threw the covers off and spent time getting dressed, giving her face time to relax. She pulled on a pair of boxers that she found in a drawer, not having the luxury to search for feminine underwear, and grabbed a yellow nightshirt from the apparent pajama drawer. She pulled it over her head, oversized, the shirt hanging down her behind and to her elbows. As she rubbed her eyes and fixed herself as best as she could in the mirror, she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.
The lighter, balancing on the end of the dresser. She snatched it up and vacated the bedroom, the wood floor cold against her bare feet. The frigid air gave her goosebumps all over, made her nipples press against the baggy shirt. Her bra was just as damp as everything else that had been on her body, and it sat in the sad pile in the bedroom. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide the evidence of her body temperature, and came to sit next to Eric. She held the lighter out between her fingers, arms still crossed, and hoped he wouldn't notice her face. "This might make it easier."