Der weren't tah many things tah pack up, really. When you lived light like he and tha others then 'moving' could really be something accomplished in tha earlier part of tha day. Naht that it evah actually was. It were already four pm. His clothes went intah garbage bags and din he got himself some of those empty beer bottle boxes, tha ones which was double walled and naht tah big, and put his other affects in those. Some electronics, some keepsakes. It all totaled up tah bein' three bags o' clothes and four boxes of everythin' else. Grace already got some kitchen supplies sah most o' his weren't necessary tah bring along. It'd be good fer Ian, anyways, tah have some things tah get by with. Mark didn't even bother with the few beers and whutevah else was left in tha fridge.
It were all real clinical up until the point he stood over everythin' he packed and remembered dat he was really movin' out and naht just doin' a good job o' cleaning. The wall of his first bed which were down tha hall still had old album and CD covers glued tah it. Ian could bother with removin' them iffin they was a problem, but he weren't gonna tear up tha wall guessing. Billie got her own markers in her room, he even found an old romance novel she'd read wedged between tha wall and bed. And da? Tha old man had been real austere and the last thing of him that really made Mark think o' the man was that that tha driver's seat had that massaged seat cover, the sort made with the round wooden beads. It looks straight outta tha seventies.
He'd ask tah do it in private jist ?cause he figured it'd be better that way. Grace wouldn't want him holdin' back but sometimes tha were hard tah do around someone you was thinkin' of as your everything. He tapped out his message on the glass screen fer her, "Done if you want to come over and help."
Grace would have been happy to help, but when Mark had asked for privacy she didn't fight him on it. Change came hard to the gypsy king, even in this life of constant variation, and she knew this was a bigger deal than he was making it out to be.
So, she'd spent the time at her place instead, doing some packing and clearing and redistributing of her own to make room, to make it theirs. Grace didn't want it to be like he'd just disappeared into her space, losing his own personal touches along the way, and that's how her morning went - clearing space in the closets, condensing the tools of her trade to a smaller environment, making sure there was room for Mark in every part of the RV.
Her phone went off and she checked the display. A faint smile on her face, she wrote back a quick "be right there.? Setting it aside, her gaze lifted to Jenny. "Here," said Grace, "This is everything I don't need anymore. Take what you want and see who else wants the rest, yeah?" The older woman smiled in a matronly way, gathering up the two boxes of household items Grace was discarding, and the little dancer followed her out of the RV.
The walk across the campfire was surprisingly sentimental for her, she realized as she was almost all the way across. It would be the last time she had to walk that far to go see Mark.
Tha door tah his RV swung open befer she got tah it. He weren't lookin' up fer her jist then but cuppin' his hands tahgether to sheild his cigarette. Mark weren't no smoker, or at least dat was what he told folks. Times was stressful enough dat he'd gone from only smokin' when he drank tah jist nabbing one or two in the day. He kept tellin' himself he'd put tha pack down as soon as things eased up and it didn't feel like some kinda medicine he needed to get through tha day.
The established draw on the cigarette brought tha cherry tah life as his blue eyes slipped up tah her face. He smiled, exhaling and pullin' tha cancer stick away from his lips tah speak, "Oi, hey der beautiful. Think you got room back home fer a guy like me?" A wink followed aftah. Mark was always one tah put some humor ahead of his hurting.
It was a relatively short distance, maybe fifty feet altogether, but for Grace it was suddenly packed full of nostalgia. The first time he'd asked her to come over, to discuss Quinn's initiation. How many nights at the camp fire, sitting in those chairs she was passing right there, playing a flirty game of chicken she always knew she'd lose. Grilled cheese in his kitchen at four in the morning, not a date but not nothing. That first time in his shower. All the times she'd snuck carefully along the backs of the silent machines, avoiding the fire altogether on her way to see him without drawing attention. His birthday.
Those wide set green eyes were full of memories, her expression thoughtful, when she looked up to see Mark coming the other way. Her smile rose immediately to meet him. "Hey, Baby." It was a big moment, and her not- king was answering it with humor as he always did. Her smile soft, she closed the distance to him, tucking little fingers into his pocket. "...maybe," she said, pretending to think about it. "Isn't there some rule that if he follows you home y'get to keep him?"
He took dat final step down from inside his RV, his body brushin' against her's as he gave her a kiss. It was short, being he'd just taken a pull o' his cigarette. Another draw and he blew smoke outta the corner o' his mouth, the other arm comin' tah wrap around her, "I mean, once you start feedin' a guy they keep showin' up ovah and ovah and din there's nah hope left fer yah."
His shoulders twisted, lookin' ovah one of ?em tah the insides o' his home and din back tah her, "Got everythin' put tahgether. Figured on leavin' some stuff behind fer tha kid since we dun need tah double up on anythin'." She were probably figuring all o' that on him anyway, but it kinda felt good jist tah talk even if it weren't carrying no revelation.
Her head tipped back to meet his kiss, she could taste the tobacco on her lips when she settled back from him. That one arm slid around her and she fit herself into his side automatically, fingers lifting from the one pocket to trail along the backside of his waist and then dip into the other on the opposite side. Amusement gilded the corners of her smile as she giggled. "...See, the way I remember it you fed me first, so... clearly I'm not responsible here."
Mark looked back at the RV and so did she, recalling all of the times they'd spent together inside it. Playful times and difficult ones alike: they'd been together less than a year still but it hardly felt that way, for all the living they'd packed into their months so far. She squeezed him gently, her softly pointed chin dipping in a nod. "Yeah, I've been givin' stuff away all morning, too."
His hand at her lower back rubbed up at down. Mighta been that he weren't even aware o' doin' tha as he looked inside the RV and din back tah her. It were a difficult moment, tah be sure, and mehbe it even felt a bit silly tah have some old RV that were in kinda rough condition warrant tha kinda nostalgia. But if it were fer Grace? Well, one day it was gonna break down on its own, anyhow. Ian might be cursin' at him fer it in a week's time if he was unlucky.
"Yah have?" It hadn't really occurred tah him dat she'd have tah make room fer him. Mehbe he'd jist been tah preoccupied with himself and whut he was losing that he didn't put enough thought intah jist how tha two of them was gonna fit der lives tahgether in one place. He cleared his throat, took another drag of his cigarette. His fingertips nudged under the end of her shirt so that they traced, jist barely, ovah her skin as he spoke, "I think we can get meh all move intah you in two trips. You can take tha boxes cause dey naht tah heavy but meh bags o' clothes got heft tah them."
It wasn't that she had to make room for him, specifically that she wanted to. Sure, they had double the number of things they needed in some cases, and where kitchen utensils and things were concerned, hers were better. It made sense to leave his for Ian since they had no use for two. But in all other cases, it was about making a life together, not fitting one into the other. "Yeah," replied the girl, and as his fingers stroked her back through the cloth of her t-shirt, she leaned into his side, shifting some of her weight against him. "Mama left some things when she moved back in with her sister, an' I just realized that over the last couple years I've accumulated too many of everything."
Nodding when he spoke of getting everything moved, she tipped her face into his chest, pressing a light kiss there. "That's all y'got?" A little smile. "This'll be easy, then."
"Dun have much a need fer things," which were true. Well, it woulda been a whole lot more stuff if he got a record player and records, which true music snobs always was arguing gave tha better sound. It jist didn't work sah much with gypsy life, all those thin's takin' up space. Naht when you could hold easily a hundred times the music in a space big enough for yer cellphone and speakers. Even though he didn't grow up with records, he still liked tha imagery and found it strange that he even thought it was appealing, like mehbe he shouldn't have cause they wasn't even nostalgic or a memory he got. Still, he knew he liked tha look of them and kinda always smiled a bit when someone played a record in a movie or something.
"Plus, I'm naht havin' tah take everythin', either." Weren't like movin' out of a house where a bed and furniture had tah go with yah. All dat was left behind or was actually jist part o' tha RV itself. He gave his cigarette one more pull befer flickin' it off in tha direction o' tha bonfire. Din his hand pressed a little more intah her back to bring her in fer another kiss. Aftah tha, he turned from he and climbed inside his place, steppin' around his pile o' things sah she could get her hands on a box or two. One o' thm was heavy cause it got books and his boots in it.
It were all real clinical up until the point he stood over everythin' he packed and remembered dat he was really movin' out and naht just doin' a good job o' cleaning. The wall of his first bed which were down tha hall still had old album and CD covers glued tah it. Ian could bother with removin' them iffin they was a problem, but he weren't gonna tear up tha wall guessing. Billie got her own markers in her room, he even found an old romance novel she'd read wedged between tha wall and bed. And da? Tha old man had been real austere and the last thing of him that really made Mark think o' the man was that that tha driver's seat had that massaged seat cover, the sort made with the round wooden beads. It looks straight outta tha seventies.
He'd ask tah do it in private jist ?cause he figured it'd be better that way. Grace wouldn't want him holdin' back but sometimes tha were hard tah do around someone you was thinkin' of as your everything. He tapped out his message on the glass screen fer her, "Done if you want to come over and help."
Grace would have been happy to help, but when Mark had asked for privacy she didn't fight him on it. Change came hard to the gypsy king, even in this life of constant variation, and she knew this was a bigger deal than he was making it out to be.
So, she'd spent the time at her place instead, doing some packing and clearing and redistributing of her own to make room, to make it theirs. Grace didn't want it to be like he'd just disappeared into her space, losing his own personal touches along the way, and that's how her morning went - clearing space in the closets, condensing the tools of her trade to a smaller environment, making sure there was room for Mark in every part of the RV.
Her phone went off and she checked the display. A faint smile on her face, she wrote back a quick "be right there.? Setting it aside, her gaze lifted to Jenny. "Here," said Grace, "This is everything I don't need anymore. Take what you want and see who else wants the rest, yeah?" The older woman smiled in a matronly way, gathering up the two boxes of household items Grace was discarding, and the little dancer followed her out of the RV.
The walk across the campfire was surprisingly sentimental for her, she realized as she was almost all the way across. It would be the last time she had to walk that far to go see Mark.
Tha door tah his RV swung open befer she got tah it. He weren't lookin' up fer her jist then but cuppin' his hands tahgether to sheild his cigarette. Mark weren't no smoker, or at least dat was what he told folks. Times was stressful enough dat he'd gone from only smokin' when he drank tah jist nabbing one or two in the day. He kept tellin' himself he'd put tha pack down as soon as things eased up and it didn't feel like some kinda medicine he needed to get through tha day.
The established draw on the cigarette brought tha cherry tah life as his blue eyes slipped up tah her face. He smiled, exhaling and pullin' tha cancer stick away from his lips tah speak, "Oi, hey der beautiful. Think you got room back home fer a guy like me?" A wink followed aftah. Mark was always one tah put some humor ahead of his hurting.
It was a relatively short distance, maybe fifty feet altogether, but for Grace it was suddenly packed full of nostalgia. The first time he'd asked her to come over, to discuss Quinn's initiation. How many nights at the camp fire, sitting in those chairs she was passing right there, playing a flirty game of chicken she always knew she'd lose. Grilled cheese in his kitchen at four in the morning, not a date but not nothing. That first time in his shower. All the times she'd snuck carefully along the backs of the silent machines, avoiding the fire altogether on her way to see him without drawing attention. His birthday.
Those wide set green eyes were full of memories, her expression thoughtful, when she looked up to see Mark coming the other way. Her smile rose immediately to meet him. "Hey, Baby." It was a big moment, and her not- king was answering it with humor as he always did. Her smile soft, she closed the distance to him, tucking little fingers into his pocket. "...maybe," she said, pretending to think about it. "Isn't there some rule that if he follows you home y'get to keep him?"
He took dat final step down from inside his RV, his body brushin' against her's as he gave her a kiss. It was short, being he'd just taken a pull o' his cigarette. Another draw and he blew smoke outta the corner o' his mouth, the other arm comin' tah wrap around her, "I mean, once you start feedin' a guy they keep showin' up ovah and ovah and din there's nah hope left fer yah."
His shoulders twisted, lookin' ovah one of ?em tah the insides o' his home and din back tah her, "Got everythin' put tahgether. Figured on leavin' some stuff behind fer tha kid since we dun need tah double up on anythin'." She were probably figuring all o' that on him anyway, but it kinda felt good jist tah talk even if it weren't carrying no revelation.
Her head tipped back to meet his kiss, she could taste the tobacco on her lips when she settled back from him. That one arm slid around her and she fit herself into his side automatically, fingers lifting from the one pocket to trail along the backside of his waist and then dip into the other on the opposite side. Amusement gilded the corners of her smile as she giggled. "...See, the way I remember it you fed me first, so... clearly I'm not responsible here."
Mark looked back at the RV and so did she, recalling all of the times they'd spent together inside it. Playful times and difficult ones alike: they'd been together less than a year still but it hardly felt that way, for all the living they'd packed into their months so far. She squeezed him gently, her softly pointed chin dipping in a nod. "Yeah, I've been givin' stuff away all morning, too."
His hand at her lower back rubbed up at down. Mighta been that he weren't even aware o' doin' tha as he looked inside the RV and din back tah her. It were a difficult moment, tah be sure, and mehbe it even felt a bit silly tah have some old RV that were in kinda rough condition warrant tha kinda nostalgia. But if it were fer Grace? Well, one day it was gonna break down on its own, anyhow. Ian might be cursin' at him fer it in a week's time if he was unlucky.
"Yah have?" It hadn't really occurred tah him dat she'd have tah make room fer him. Mehbe he'd jist been tah preoccupied with himself and whut he was losing that he didn't put enough thought intah jist how tha two of them was gonna fit der lives tahgether in one place. He cleared his throat, took another drag of his cigarette. His fingertips nudged under the end of her shirt so that they traced, jist barely, ovah her skin as he spoke, "I think we can get meh all move intah you in two trips. You can take tha boxes cause dey naht tah heavy but meh bags o' clothes got heft tah them."
It wasn't that she had to make room for him, specifically that she wanted to. Sure, they had double the number of things they needed in some cases, and where kitchen utensils and things were concerned, hers were better. It made sense to leave his for Ian since they had no use for two. But in all other cases, it was about making a life together, not fitting one into the other. "Yeah," replied the girl, and as his fingers stroked her back through the cloth of her t-shirt, she leaned into his side, shifting some of her weight against him. "Mama left some things when she moved back in with her sister, an' I just realized that over the last couple years I've accumulated too many of everything."
Nodding when he spoke of getting everything moved, she tipped her face into his chest, pressing a light kiss there. "That's all y'got?" A little smile. "This'll be easy, then."
"Dun have much a need fer things," which were true. Well, it woulda been a whole lot more stuff if he got a record player and records, which true music snobs always was arguing gave tha better sound. It jist didn't work sah much with gypsy life, all those thin's takin' up space. Naht when you could hold easily a hundred times the music in a space big enough for yer cellphone and speakers. Even though he didn't grow up with records, he still liked tha imagery and found it strange that he even thought it was appealing, like mehbe he shouldn't have cause they wasn't even nostalgic or a memory he got. Still, he knew he liked tha look of them and kinda always smiled a bit when someone played a record in a movie or something.
"Plus, I'm naht havin' tah take everythin', either." Weren't like movin' out of a house where a bed and furniture had tah go with yah. All dat was left behind or was actually jist part o' tha RV itself. He gave his cigarette one more pull befer flickin' it off in tha direction o' tha bonfire. Din his hand pressed a little more intah her back to bring her in fer another kiss. Aftah tha, he turned from he and climbed inside his place, steppin' around his pile o' things sah she could get her hands on a box or two. One o' thm was heavy cause it got books and his boots in it.