The Book I Read || Elly & Pax
[There’s more to the story—of course there is. But trust Pax to pick up on that. Rote responses aren’t really his thing, she’s noticed. Even if he ducks behind them swiftly when it comes to himself. He pushes his inquiries beneath the surface like splinters, the questions sharp enough to sting even before she answers.]Â
Hmm. We did. [Damn you, slyly giving a shit enough to ask. She chuckles, bone dry, and pushes through to speaking again.]
We did get married, fast. And no one thought I was old enough, or in my right mind for it. [She elaborates, quietly.] Not my dad, not most of our so-called friends—sure as hell not my sister. [She narrows her eyes at him, almost smiling. A thin press of lips that curves only a fraction, somewhere between fondness and a grimace. But it’s not like they’ve been in the habit of sugar coating anything, not in their whole ridiculous friendship, and she can’t hold it against him.]Â
[Why hide scar tissue—nothing is shiny and unmarred anymore. And if it is, the likes of them don’t need it.]
Kids… [Her voice trails off, and she skips her nails against the desk, almost in illustration.] Were on the table. Not as something I’d pictured. But I was open to the idea of… doing better by someone than had been done by me? [She rests her chin idly on her hand, remembering Lucy’s careful, methodical reasoning in the sun-soaked kitchenette of her apartment one sleepy afternoon. Her argument was driven by heart, underneath, but she’d known that a logical outline would secretly appeal to Elly. For all her apparent love of anarchy, there’s a whole lot of need for stability in her framework, and Lu always understood that.] We talked about adoption a lot, and not like, babies, but grown kids who just needed a safe spot. Even if I did think—do think—I might not be a great mom, that seemed… like something I could handle, given time…
[Waking up and finding people gone is something she is acutely aware of, as part of their life here. The halls are lined with ghosts—they each carry their own personal armada. He must have one more today. Which makes her feel bitter, and protective. She hurts for him.]
Thinking’s hazardous. [She agrees, softly.] Just don’t do it. [She adds, as though they have any choice in the matter. On impulse, she reaches across and brushes the hair across his forehead. Barely grazing, and pulling back an instant later. Affectionate displays don’t come easy—they’re normally cold enough to be shrugged off by everyone involved. Nothing to see here.]
[She clears her throat. And rolls her eyes] Oh, we’ll probably never know who your mysterious letter-writer was—only what they want us to know. [She’s half certain it was just Pax, from the start.] The library closes at half past I don’t give a duck’s ass, thanks for asking. Do we need locks for anything in here, or do you simply want to sell me locks? I will run out of spleens eventually. [It feels safe to slip back into cynicism and teasing again. Predictable, comforting. A merchant and a fake librarian, both chock full of snark.]Â
[ Pax doesn’t actually expect Elly to spill her guts. First of all-- it’s Elly. If anyone can slow dance around a topic with sarcasm and a wink as her dancing partner, it is this girl.Â
But not many are open with Paxton, even when he’s feeling generous and offering up the rare option. Andee has, however... well, Andee is Andee, isn’t she? Refreshingly so, with nothing to hide, embracing vulnerability rather than pulling a ripcord of escape. And Elly, he wouldn’t call her secretive. She’s protective of a timeline no longer in sequence with the one she is currently in.Â
In the library, it changes. Maybe it isn’t so much Pax she is talking to but the beloved books Elly is surrounded by. He listens to the story drawing him in. With a smile bordering on unfolding to obscure what she’s saying at any moment. A tap of nails, the same energized gleam in her eyes that is always there. He can see her living in a moment, exciting and brave, one he’s never seen her acknowledge fully.
Pax does not necessarily relate with future plans from the past. The way Elly tells it warms old memories, but he wasn’t pulled away from those things either. Not cut off from one world and hurled into another. He hates what has happened to Elly even more.Â
There is something she says that fits a narrowly carved out space in his chest. So he counters from a point he knows all too well. ] I think you’d make a great mom. Sometimes it’s all someone needs. A person that’s interested, to look out for them. Doing better than someone did to you, like you said. I’m sure your wife would’ve been too. You don’t really hang out with assholes. Other than me.Â
[ Sadly, there is no turning back time, even for those who jump ahead. He doesn’t notice, at first, the thick shag hanging over his eyes has been moved. He looks up, out of the storyline running in his mind. It’s the nicest thing anyone has done here, so there isn’t a need to mention it. ] I don’t think that often.Â
[ He smiles, a crooked half of one, but it’s enough. And then dark brows lift and fall, eyes turn in the direction of where the letter was found so long ago, the grin becomes one of pride. ] The writer will remain an unsolved mystery of the Colony.Â
[ Pax stand up and after a few seconds his head shakes. ] Nah. This place is safe enough, isn’t it? Don’t think we need to sully this bastion of knowledge by imposing such antiquated things, turning it into a prison like the rest of the place. [ He speaks relaxed now, drawls-- there is nothing quite like a secret shared in few words and little explanation. Elly knows exactly why he asks, as sure as he knows why he has asked himself. ] Do me a favor and hang on to the spleen, okay? We don’t need anything, including locks. [ Definitely not locks. ]Â