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thejusticelounge2013-07-28 02:28 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-07-28 02:28 pm
Entry tags:
circling suns
These texts come to Roy's phone almost immediately after Mar’i leaves the hospital the night before
[TXT] just remembered i was gonna find that chapstick for you before i got the call, it’s in one of those bags, i apologize in advance for all the weird shit you’re gonna find in there
[TXT] i got you cherry hopefully you don’t hate that because you really need it
[TXT] i’m really sorry everyone in my damn city decided to rob a bank at the same time, i really wanted to stay
[TXT] like you asked. just tell Lian i said swhjrthwssssss
Fifteen Minutes Later:
[TXT] fuck sorry they hit me with the getaway car like idiots
[TXT] remember how we watched that movie and laughed over that ford pinto car and how ridiculous it looked?
[TXT] they were driving a fucking banana ford pinto, roy, they were trying to get away in a pinto
[TXT] i’m laughing so hard in the police station right now, people are looking at me like i’m crazy but i swear i saw that banana car coming at me and i could hear that damn yakety sax song
[TXT] okay i’ve gotta go, i’m laughing so hard those fake eyelashes are sliding off my eyes, i’m starting to scare people
[TXT] hug your baby and your dad for me okay? and take care of yourself
—-
He’d kept these, now, almost a month after the fact. He’d actually had to create a folder for them, and they took up a chunk of his memory, but he didn’t really mind. During the day, Lian would be eating something, or playing with Kiki or Mia or Rose, and Roy would take a minute for himself, whip out his phone and flip through them in order, rereading, and smile. Mostly to himself, in private, chewing at the edge of his thumb and thinking about her. What it meant that he was thinking about her. What it meant that he was thinking about her. ..what it meant that he was thinking about her.
He’d messaged her, earlier that morning, the sun streaming in through the patio window; the cactus was out there, soaking it all up, thriving in the humid California weather, like he’d been the lucky sunuvabitch to get it out of Arizona, alive. The text had been something stupid, something disposable, really. Just waking up. Or before his coffee. Probably just a stupid face he’d gotten into the habit of using after his Vietnamese classes. He didn’t even bother to pay enough attention to wanna go back and look at it. She hadn’t answered him, but he figured she was busy at a shoot. It didn’t bother Roy, as he slipped his phone into his pocket; he knew she’d get back to him.
He liked that it didn’t bother him.
Standing on the patio, bare toes curling against the heat of the cement underfoot in the waning afternoon sun, Roy, suddenly drawn to it, settled his eyes against the golden glow of Queen Tower, the curved shape at the top—kinda like those knives all the palace guards used, in Aladdin—glinting in the orange and blue backdrop of the Star City horizon.
It was weird, staring at it, because he normally didn’t like looking at it—it kind of looked like a shiny, enormous dick off in the horizon, to be completely honest—but suddenly, for some reason, Roy couldn’t take his eyes off it. Vision slanting towards the house, he took the first step in assuring himself that everything was fine: Lian was sitting there, playing with her ponies, just beyond the sliding glass door—she smiled at him, and he smiled back— and Mia was at the kitchen island with Rose, both of them barefoot, standing around Mia’s laptop. Kate and Ollie were off somewhere with Ramsey, he would have heard if something had gone down in that arena, so Roy brought his eyes back to Lian, strained to hear the nonsense song she was making up, her little toes curled in as she sat, criss-cross-applesauce, against the carpet. And still..
..and still, the knowledge that she was safe did nothing to shake the sudden feeling, in the pit of his stomach. Curling cold and vicious and hot like it did when there was even the barest hint of threat, that something was wrong with his girl.
His girl.
Pulling out his phone, he sent her another message.
[TXT] just remembered i was gonna find that chapstick for you before i got the call, it’s in one of those bags, i apologize in advance for all the weird shit you’re gonna find in there
[TXT] i got you cherry hopefully you don’t hate that because you really need it
[TXT] i’m really sorry everyone in my damn city decided to rob a bank at the same time, i really wanted to stay
[TXT] like you asked. just tell Lian i said swhjrthwssssss
Fifteen Minutes Later:
[TXT] fuck sorry they hit me with the getaway car like idiots
[TXT] remember how we watched that movie and laughed over that ford pinto car and how ridiculous it looked?
[TXT] they were driving a fucking banana ford pinto, roy, they were trying to get away in a pinto
[TXT] i’m laughing so hard in the police station right now, people are looking at me like i’m crazy but i swear i saw that banana car coming at me and i could hear that damn yakety sax song
[TXT] okay i’ve gotta go, i’m laughing so hard those fake eyelashes are sliding off my eyes, i’m starting to scare people
[TXT] hug your baby and your dad for me okay? and take care of yourself
—-
He’d kept these, now, almost a month after the fact. He’d actually had to create a folder for them, and they took up a chunk of his memory, but he didn’t really mind. During the day, Lian would be eating something, or playing with Kiki or Mia or Rose, and Roy would take a minute for himself, whip out his phone and flip through them in order, rereading, and smile. Mostly to himself, in private, chewing at the edge of his thumb and thinking about her. What it meant that he was thinking about her. What it meant that he was thinking about her. ..what it meant that he was thinking about her.
He’d messaged her, earlier that morning, the sun streaming in through the patio window; the cactus was out there, soaking it all up, thriving in the humid California weather, like he’d been the lucky sunuvabitch to get it out of Arizona, alive. The text had been something stupid, something disposable, really. Just waking up. Or before his coffee. Probably just a stupid face he’d gotten into the habit of using after his Vietnamese classes. He didn’t even bother to pay enough attention to wanna go back and look at it. She hadn’t answered him, but he figured she was busy at a shoot. It didn’t bother Roy, as he slipped his phone into his pocket; he knew she’d get back to him.
He liked that it didn’t bother him.
Standing on the patio, bare toes curling against the heat of the cement underfoot in the waning afternoon sun, Roy, suddenly drawn to it, settled his eyes against the golden glow of Queen Tower, the curved shape at the top—kinda like those knives all the palace guards used, in Aladdin—glinting in the orange and blue backdrop of the Star City horizon.
It was weird, staring at it, because he normally didn’t like looking at it—it kind of looked like a shiny, enormous dick off in the horizon, to be completely honest—but suddenly, for some reason, Roy couldn’t take his eyes off it. Vision slanting towards the house, he took the first step in assuring himself that everything was fine: Lian was sitting there, playing with her ponies, just beyond the sliding glass door—she smiled at him, and he smiled back— and Mia was at the kitchen island with Rose, both of them barefoot, standing around Mia’s laptop. Kate and Ollie were off somewhere with Ramsey, he would have heard if something had gone down in that arena, so Roy brought his eyes back to Lian, strained to hear the nonsense song she was making up, her little toes curled in as she sat, criss-cross-applesauce, against the carpet. And still..
..and still, the knowledge that she was safe did nothing to shake the sudden feeling, in the pit of his stomach. Curling cold and vicious and hot like it did when there was even the barest hint of threat, that something was wrong with his girl.
His girl.
Pulling out his phone, he sent her another message.