Topic: On the Road....Again.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-04-25 23:44 EST
You were my best friend
You were my lover.

Life hurt. Erin knew this. Of course she knew this. It was the only thing she had been sure of for years now. So when the pang creeped up on her. Overtook her. She thought nothing of it. Shook it off. And went on with her life. Most of the time.

You were my mentor.
You were my brother.

In Chi's bed. His breathing was slow, shallow. He was fast asleep. She was not. How could she be? Sebastian's face was haunting her. Her own hastily penned words were haunting her. Her cold hands and cold feet and lonely nights. It was all just too much. That question she couldn't answer.

What was she doing? How had she got here?

And there it hung in the air above her head. The weight that pinned her to this bed. That kept her from talking to her sister. From telling Alain what she really thought. From pouring her heart out to Jordan. From being honest to Chi. From opening up to anyone. A question she could dance around. She could even think about. But one she could not answer.

You were my partner.
You were my teacher.

Her feet touched the wooden floors of the upstairs apartment. And she began to collect her things. Erin began her move into Malachi's apartment with little fanfare. Even if she didn't spend the night, she would still be able to come in around lunch. Change. And somehow in the week since she had the key-- a lot of her things had amassed. So... she collected it up. Stuffed as much as she could find or remember into that messenger bag.

You were my very own sympathetic character.

Onto the porch. And to write a note. Erin sighed, pressing her fingers to her eyes. She knew what she had to do. She had to get out of here. She needed distance. She needed to be away from Jordan and away from Chi and away from herself. She needed advice and coddling and...her mother. Erin needed her mother.

Everyone had let her get away with so much. Her mother never did. Her mother spoke straight. Her mother beat her down and left her to grow herself back on her own. Yes. She needed her mother.

Sebastian had been her everything and then so suddenly her nothing. And without him she was even more alone-- unmoored-- than she was before. A moral quagmire. She was drowning. Gasping. Erin wasn't sure what it was she wanted to do, was supposed to do, would make people happy. But she'd never figure it out here. Not with all these options and stories slowly unfolding.

And so, she snatched a Cigarette from Chi and lit it. Once she was done-- she would leave.

It wasn't that easy.

You were my keeper.
You were my anchor.
You were my family.
You were my savior.
And therein lay the issue.
And therein lay the problem.


Song by Alanis Morissette.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-04-26 20:28 EST
How late was it? Four Am. And Erin felt like she was in a vice clamp. She pinched her nose and pressed her eyes closed. After a long moment, she flicked the lighter and lit the cigarette. Breath in. Hold. 1...2...3...4...5... Breath out. Flick.

Repeat.

Her hands were getting moist. Nervous. Her green eyes locked on the small piece of paper she was clutching. A long sigh, and her eyes closed again.

Couldn't sleep? It came after a low chuckle. Her eyes opened and she turned to see Chi standing just outside the door staring at the paper in her hands. His presence made her redden. She felt as if she were a child caught stealing from the cookie jar. His finding her there out on the porch smoking and plotting her escape struck her as more than childish. Erin shrugged and pushed some hair out of her face.

No. Her voice was almost a whisper. I was going to go. She kept her head tilted down and her eyes on her shoes. They were very interesting to her at the moment. She was afraid he would explode. No, no... she was afraid he would not care at all.

At 4 am, you just decided to go? Chi absently pulled his hair back and then scooped up the lighter to light his own cigarette. Where are you going? Shop? Inn? One of your homes? He leaned back against the balcony railing, one elbow resting on its top as he exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke. Erin watched him for a moment. It killed her that she would have to explain what she was doing and ruined what seemed as if it would have been another good night with good conversation and perhaps good sex.

Just... back to the manor. I was going to pack, I guess. Stop by the shop at about eight... I don't know, I was thinking of going home home for awhile. Still a small voice. She was adding words in, little white lies to make this seem a little bit better. There was no way to exude calm and routine when they both knew it was neither.

Which home? Malachi's gaze dropped from face back to the piece of paper. I'll assume you weren't going to say goodbye... He let the statement hang purposefully, as his mouth drew into a thin line. It killed Erin because she knew he was right. She could see the anger on his face and it made her uncomfortable. It seemed as if he cared. Or at least like he wanted to care. That had he been someone with any fight left in him-- he would have yelled, or scowled or anything.

I didn't want to wake you. She was watching her fingers play with the paper. Then her eyes were closed. She let out a long and labored sigh. Just to London. Just for a little. I have some loose ends, yeah? It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. I didn't want to make it one. She held up the paper before dropping it on her lap. It was true. Erin wanted to go and be able to think about her many decisions without it being seen as that. She wanted to slip out in the middle of the night and return a new person without anyone noticing. Erin forgot sometimes that other people's lives happened. Came and went. And that she could affect them with her actions.

That's fine. And he nodded while taking another drag from his cigarette. His voice was flat. Emotionless.

I'm sorry. Could she sound any smaller? I just.. I'm not good at this. The talking thing. I rather... She nods at the note in her lap. I'm sorry. She finally dared to raise her eyes to look at him. Chi shrugged his shoulders. Inhale. Exhale. He swatted at a mosquito that was attempting to feast via his abdomen.

Like I said, it's fine. Flick of an ash and another inhale...exhale. His shortness with her made her wince. She knew it was his way of shutting her out and it killed her.

It clearly isn't. As she watched him. Her cigarette was dispatched then. You're mad at me. A simple statement of fact. Please... just... this is why I didnt' want to do this. I didnt' want to leave with us like this.

I'm really not mad Erin. And here came oscar nomination bit. I understand loose ends, I've made that trip since I've been here. And that's what angered her. He had. And he had left her a note as well. Why was this so different? Why did this warrant walls and harsh words?

I know. Now that you're up, I'll stay. She forced out a little smile. At least until the sun. She was unsure what leaving while he was in this condition would do. If he would even talk to her when she got back. And the sudden urge to get away from him. Away from everything. Had faded. Chi was slow and deliberate with the last drag of his cigarette, exhaling he tossed it into the coffee can and stepped past her to the glass doors.

It's alright. I'm going back to bed. Be safe. It was the most he had any inclination to say in regards to her leaving. A note? It was the easy way out, zero confrontation and zero thought or consideration fo the person that woke up to find and read it. He stopped in the bathroom to splash his face and get a drink of water before making his way back to bed. Erin stood quickly, leaving the note on the chair, and followed him into the bedroom. When he came out of the bathroom she was standing at the foot of the bed. Her voice sounded like it was going to crack, but in the dark room it was hard to see if she were crying.

Let me stay with you?

I'm not kicking you out. He wiped the water from his face into his hair for lack of a towel. Stepping past her he climbed back into bed, covers kicked to one side with him on his back. He wasn't going to sleep, he was awake now. He closed his eyes.

But do you want me here? She hadn't moved yet, still standing almost completely in shadow. Chi sighed audibly and paused before he answered.

It's fine. If you need to go then go. If you want to stay then stay. It's fine. We're fine.

Okay. And she sat on the edge of the bed, examining her toes as her feet swung.

Okay. He didn't open his eyes. He just layed there, one hand behind his head the other at his side. The silence was deafening. Erin spent almost fifteen minutes watching her own feet swing before she pushed back on the bed to be sitting beside him.

It's not becuase of you. It was said super softly and she finally broke the touch barrier, laying a hand on his arm. He tensed. Perhaps he was going to flinch. But he didn't. Chi simply nodded.

I didn't think that it was.

Sure it could've been but the farther along they got the more Chi realized that Erin did what Erin wanted, no matter the backlash it had on those around her. And the more she realized he was right. And it broke her heart. It was why she was leaving, in fact, that profound selfishness. She turned away from him so he wouldn't see her cry. Any noise she made was as muffled as possible. Any movement was forcefully stilled. The little up and down of shoulders. She couldnt' leave yet, perhaps at all. Not with them like this. And he shook head, taking a moment to think before rolling onto his side and slipping his arm around her waist. It killed Erin just a little more. Fed the hysteria.

I'll stay if you ask me to. A barely whisper through the mess in her head. She wasn't sure what saying it meant, but it was there and it was said. Her arms rested over his, holding him to her. She was small that way. He tucked his knees behind hers and settled his chin atop her head.

You know I won't.

You'll be here when I get back? The childline voice was there to stay. She felt safe this way and would never move if it were up to her. She was so confused. Completely confused. This is why she wanted to leave with him still sleeping. Why she wanted to leave the note. Things were cut and dry that way. Simple. The emotions contained.

I don't know. Maybe? I really don't know. And he really didn't, he shrugged against her.

Then don't let me go tonight. The tears were back. Don't let me go until the sun comes up, and the market is full and there's nothing to do but get out of bed. Walk me to the Stitch and kiss me goodbye like nothing is wrong. LIke we'll see each other tomorrow. Hold my hand while we walk. And look at me that way you look at me when I think perhaps this might work.... Make it count. She just let herself cry. No use in hiding. If it was there last night, why not let it be emotional? everything else so rarely was.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-04-28 11:05 EST
The prodigal son. That's the story that was in her head as she raised a hand to push the bell. The prodigal daughter. Again.

It was a brownstone type building, only the stone was white and clean as snow. There was a large wooden door, painted blue. It was divided in four, each indentation a little darker blue than the rest of the door because of its protection from the weather. The knocker, placed up in the middle of the door, was a lion's head. The pewter was polished and well taken care of. The mouth of the lion roared and its main gave way to the knocker.

The windows to the drawing room were open. The day was warm, the sun beating down on the small mad englishwoman as she stood in front of her door. She could hear her mother inside-- she was playing piano. The soft melody of Moonlight Sonata wafting to the porch. Floral curtains just slightly covering the windows from their drawn back position.

How many times had she stood on this doorstep with a suitcase in her hand? Too many to count. Yet, she always returned here. One of her pale, bony hands raised to pull back the knocker and tap it lightly in triplicate.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It reminded her of Jordan, suddenly. His face when she would open her door for him. Once a week, now. Their time. She'd pull it open and watch him react. Soak her in. It was that thought that caused the contended smile on her face when William, the butler, pulled open her own door.

Miss. Erinalle. He was older, perhaps forty now. He was a tall thin man that didn't fill out his tux, though he never looked sickly. It was as if he had gotten dressed in the morning and shrunk an inch in every direction for no reason at all. He had kind brown eyes, and a salt and pepper mop of neatly cut, neatly styled hair.

Erin smiled and offered her suitcase to the man. He was family. Always had been, to her. She often found herself in the good graces of her staff. She cared about them, asked after their families and remembered their stories. William, perhaps, was her favorite of all time. The first thing Erin noticed, however, about his greeting was that for the first time since her eighteenth birthday she was Miss and not Mrs.

William. Her voice was gentle and soft and unassuming. He took the case, propping the door for her as she passed through it, smoothing the light blue sun-dress against her body. It's lovely to see you. And then she paused, slowly turning in the hall of the house. I hope you haven't missed me too much.

Not too much, indeed. He said as he bent to give her a hug. Go on, now, have a seat in the parlor. Your mother was waiting for you. With a nod, Erin set across the hall and into the parlor. The house resembled Erin's own, and that was no accident. Erin had made sure to make her house look as much like what she thought of home as she could.

And it was this place. The London place.

Erin entered the parlor and sat down as her mother played. The music ended and the older woman turned on the piano bench to face her daughter. Elizabeth Whitiker was thin, like Erin, but taller. Almost five foot seven. She had on a suit that almost certainly was made by Chanel and perhaps even in the 1950s. It was a pale blue, her shoes a matchinng color. Her white hair pinned on her head in a neat french twist. Honestly? She looked a lot like a dressed up Erin. She carried herself a lot like Erin. The two were way more similar than they had let on.

The prodigal son returns. They thought alike, too.

Hi, Mom. Erin managed a small smile, an almost genuine one.

Okay, Erin, let's hear it. And the younger, smaller Englishwoman began to cry.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-05-02 08:24 EST
Four days passed and Erin had gotten comfortable at home. The conversations with her mother were vast, sprawling things that lasted most of the days. It was like they each had a lifetime to catch up on and not much time to do so. Apologies, advice, bitterness-- it all flowed from both women.

And in the end? They were okay.

Erin would lie with her head in her mother's lap talking of pain or the inability to just be. To just feel. And her mother would stroke her hair and tell her that it had taken most her life to even know that was a possibility. Erin confessed her feelings for Jordan-- how long she had felt them, and how they had grown. Her mother simply laughed and shook her head, warning her daughter to make sure this time. Really make sure, before she makes a move at all. Elizabeth told her daughter to protect her heart at all costs.

It was on the fifth day that they went out into the world. Bridge with Anna and her mother. Hours of fun, laughing and drinking tea. Whooping and yelling and getting all worked up the only way WASPs know how. It was fun. It was exhilarating.

As Erin came up the stairs that night, she was on top of the world. The walk down the hallway was a cheery one and she left her mother at her own bedroom door, calling over her shoulder as she pulled it open, propping it with her shoulder.

"Next time? You're totally going to get it." There was laughter to follow, and she almost tumbled into her her bedroom. Her purse was dropped on her table, and her shoes kicked off. She, of course, looked nothing like herself(as was often was the case in London). Khaki pants that were a little higher than they should be, and a tucked in pastel purple shirt with a collar and everything! The shoes that were just discarded? Loafers. And Erin's hair? Totally combed.

She rolled her shoulders and turned to walk to the bed and... well....

She screamed.

Erinalle Dunbridge

Date: 2007-05-04 09:43 EST


However, Erin was lucky enough to clasp a hand over her mouth at the exact same moment. so it was more of a Mmmmmhph than a Grace Kelley Hitchcock scream.

Eyes wide, hands clasped over mouth she squinted at the form on her bed. At first it dawned on her it *could* be Sebastian. William would just let him in....

But, no, wrong shape and size.... In fact... it looked like....

was that....

No way it could be....

Jordan? One hand moved just enough to let the word out.

It was Jordan. He rose from the bed with a start and in an instant he vaulted over the foot board and was crouched on the floor in a position suitable for fighting. He blinked a few times, sleepily, as Erin stared, her mouth slightly open.

Hi, Skirts. He gave one of those pattened Jordan grins and went to move to his feet. They, however, were socked, and provided no traction on the hardwood floor--he almost slipped and then caught himself on the edge of the bed.

Surprise? His footing sured up, he held his arms to the side.

How did you know where i was? Erin was a little shocked, and very confused. Lydia wouldn't have just given her address to anyone, and he couldn't just *know* where she lived, right? Erin paused for a moment to listen, and not hearing any footsteps or the sound of her door, she was satisfied.

Her head turned to look at his arms, and she wasn't sure what they were doing out at his sides like that, but she figured it was for some sort of greeting. So-- she stepped into them and wrapped her arms around him.

You... were in my bed. She blinked some more, clearly becoming more confused as she puzzled it through in her head. It was like a dream, sure, but it seemed real and she wasn't quite... Click.

She turned her brain off.

There. Hug. Nice. Ahh. And he drew her up into a snuggle, resting his arms around her.

I -always- know where you're at, Skirts. It's... ahh... one of my -tricks-, you know? He turned his head to press his lips against her scalp through her neatly combed hair. I could close my eyes and point to you from tine miles away. but, really, I had noticed you left Rhy'Din and didn't think much of it. When I went back to my home in N'Awlins, you were suddenly on the radar again. so a few hops, skips, and jumps to triangulate the little knot-that-is-you in my head, and I found you here. Well, in London, anyway. I've been looking for a few days. Wanted to make sure I knew what was going on where before I dropped in and said hi. Jordan gave her one more squeeze and relaxed the tension in his arms.

Erin listened intently at his story. It weirded her out, sure, but also it was kind of touching and sweet and sappy in a way. He always knew where she was? She was mulling it all over in her head when he spoke again,

So, how've things been?

Really good. She answered automatically before she had begun processing the rest of what he'd said. A few days?! Her brain was going through everything he had just told her, more improbable truths, before she realized he'd loosened his grip and she'd loosened hers.

I've been really really good. Suddenly Erin wondered if he'd even known she wasn't doing well before she left-- God knows she didn't let him see that side of her. I just needed a bit of a break. Why he was there wasn't even thought about yet-- okay, it was, but more on the periphery of her mind while the words 'a few days' were still ringing. The idea that she had wanted him here, to come to her hadn't been a stranger to her daydreams-- the fact he was here? Confused and scared her in that good way you can be confused and scared. How about you?

Hungry, but I'm making it. Everything's nice and quiet on my front. haven't heard back from Nadia, yet-- a friend of mine. I tried to keep track of her the way I can do you, but she's special like me and can turn it off. I'm worried, though, never been without her this long. She's gone to ground or something. I know the last time we talked she was complaining about constant headaches and saying how the universe felt heavy, but I sure hope she's allright. Jordan shrugged.

Erin listened to him carefully as he dragged his fingers in little circles around the edges of her spin in a pseudo massage. His explanations of his life still confused her a bit-- she had never really asked all the detialed little questions she would have liked; she didn't want to be too forward, cause too much pain. But, she understood what he was getting at, what was happening and it brought up a wave of protection, caring and worry.

It's complicated, y'know, but it's what I deal with. Just as she was about to respond, he leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. The touch was electric and caused her to close her eyes. It made her want to cry. She was going to have to do something about the sudden urge to weep when he touched her at some point. Any time they made contact, she should not have the sudden urge to break down; it wasn't very lady like. The slightly glassy eyes reopened and looked for his.

Jordan rocked back on his socked heels and almost slipped again, but this time he didn't half fall before he caught himself. Missed you.

Jordan, It was like she was still trying to get her mind around his being there. She was still concentrating on what he had to say, but it was hard to concentrate with his touching her, and holding her and being there at all. All that? It scared the life out of her. She smiled sympathetically. I'm sure everything's fine. And she wasn't actually sure, but what else could she do but hope? It was conditioned into her in a way she couldn't fight anymore.

Erin reached up to brush a her thumb over his cheek. I missed you, too. And she had. If she didn't realize it before this moment(which was rather unlikely) she did then. I'm glad you.. and then a little sigh. It's really good to see you. And then she paused. just a moment. A quick assessment. We should do this more often. And yet another pause. See each other. The rest of what she was going to say? She kept it in her head. These sentiments leaked from her-- bits and pieces of the whole truth. How she really felt.

Jordan turned his head into her thump, tilting it to brush a kiss over the pad before she could draw it away. We should, you know. hey, I'm all for it. I likes the attention. His shoulders rolled back just a bit and his chin rose, offset by the dimples formed from his really big smile.

Erin could have burst at his agreement. She figured that his once a week visits were what he wanted. That he was afraid of getting too close-- too serious. She was so busy reveling in it, that she missed the sudden change in mood.