Sunday, 20 February 2011
Half-term.
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
Missing Disney.
“She’s impossible!” the Captain cried exasperatedly, slamming his hands down on the table. “She’s ridiculous and misleading and... impossible!”
“You said impossible twice,” Benjamin informed him calmly.
“I don’t care!” he said, kicking the wall. “We have sex and it’s absolutely astronomical and there I was thinking that from then on we could... I don’t know what I thought. I most certainly didn’t think that she’d have a sudden, sporadic mood change and leave straight after. She’s impossible.”
“Thrice.”
“Benjamin I’m serious!” he snapped. “What am I going to do? She’s making it so much more difficult than it has to be. She’s...”
“She is definitely unlike any of the other girls you’ve fraternized wise. But that’s why she’s my favourite. You’re going to have to learn your way around that one; she’s a force of nature.”
“You’re with her all the time,” the Captain said as if he’d only just realised. He gestured his finger towards Benjamin purposefully. “You know her better than anyone else; you could help me.”
“Just listen to her,” Benjamin said simply. “Listen to what she has to say. She’s actually rather interesting; she’s still so naïve after all that she’s done. After a conversation with her you can just hear it ringing in her voice; she talks about making love like it’s an act, not an emotional bonding. It’s almost like she can’t separate violence from sex.”
The Captain nodded rapidly, taking the information in and looked down at the floor, “Thank you for that. It’s not like I thought I did pretty well or anything; she seemed to enjoy herself as well. That’s slightly unnerving.”
“You’re very welcome.” He grinned. “But I’m serious: the way to go with
*
Hands in his pockets, he strode towards her and sat down. “I truly am sorry if I upset you.”
“And I promise to try my hardest to not be too overprotective.”
“Because?”
“Because you’re a strong, independent young woman who can take care of herself.”
She smiled, pleased, and took his hand; she didn’t know why but it felt instinctive. She turned his palm over in hers and traced the lines with her finger. “Thank you.”
“Though can I just say that in my defense, I think I’m the perfect amount of protective and if I am overprotective, it’s just because I don’t want you hurt.”
“I can handle of myself,”
He leaned his forehead against hers, “I know. It’s just... I’m paranoid, is all.”
“I know,” she breathed, blinking at him. “Vincent,” she said. “I’ve got that tightness in my stomach against. I think it means that you should kiss me.”
And so he did.
Saturday, 5 February 2011
The King's Speech.
“What are you doing?” he asked, rolling beside her.
“I don’t like being naked.” She said it very matter-of-factly. It was only when she saw his raised eyebrows that it didn’t really make sense. “Oh. Erm, I don’t know. I just don’t like being that exposed.”
He shook his head and laughed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. She watched the muscles in his arms tense and move as he stretched his arms behind him, fascinated and tempted to drag her fingers along them; confused, she said, “What? What is it?”
“If all it took was to make you feel vulnerable was to undress you I would have done so a long time ago.” She was about to speak when he slowly brought their faces together and kissed her sweetly and lengthily.
Pulling away, she blinked away the daze, “Why do you want me to feel vulnerable?”
“Well, you’re a woman; I feel you forget that sometimes. You’re very, very vulnerable to the world
Though her body ached to be as close to him as possible, she wrenched it from his, “Firstly, since when am I an animal; and secondly, what does being a woman have anything to do with this?”
“Well you’re more likely to fall into the hands of danger, as you have already displayed—”
“That was one time!” she protested. “I’m getting very, very tired of you and Benjamin treating me like I’m defenseless child!” She stood up, hands balled into fists at her side. “I am not your helpless maiden or a damsel in distress! I can bloody handle myself and I don’t appreciate being treated like one!”
The Captain laughed uncertainly and reached for her, “
“No,” she said, pushing his hands away from her, “I’m not sure how I feel about... I think it’s best for now if we let this simmer for a bit until you’re ready to accept that I’m not a little miss that needs to be protected.”
He looked up, his eyes so incredulous. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, “Good day Vincent.”
Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Because I have three stories that haven't been posted yet.
You would have thought that
She had slipped the note under his door and waited until she heard him pick it up to skip back to Benjamin. Some of the crew had decided to stay in inns for their stay in the South of France, mostly to pick up women, but Vincent and Benjamin preferred to say on board along with the rest of the men.
Benjamin was asleep in his hammock, even though he’d promised to stay awake and help her prepare herself. They had spent the day walking with, funnily enough, Benjamin as her escort; the Captain said he had business of his own to attend to and so she was allowed to frolic around as long as she was accompanied by Benjamin on these outings. Needless to say, the fact that they remained treating her like this helpless little thing still irked her, but she’d long since realised there was nothing she could do to fight it. It had been a pleasant day: Benjamin had seen her attempts at thievery and given her a lecture on how she needn’t take things anymore because whatever she wanted they could afford to give to her; unconvinced, she’d continued trying to steal things on many occasions, but Benjamin had caught her every time and just bought it for her instead.
Apparently it had been exhausting for him because, although he’d promised to talk her through beforehand, he was sound asleep in his hammock. She stalked over to him, ready to shake him awake; but he looked so peaceful that she didn’t have the heart to do so. Instead, she ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed out her shirt; she looked down glumly at her bitten-down nails and bony fingers. At times like these she would wonder what it would be if she was a graceful, delicate flower of a girl that stood up straight and wore dresses and corsets and drank tea with cakes; if she was actually Posh-Helena as opposed to Real-Helena. Posh-Helena would be confident with the right amount of bashfulness that would lure the Captain in so easily; Posh-Helena would have called him Vincent because she would be sure that it would make him wrap himself around her finger. The Real-Helena was already around his finger and she couldn’t bear to call him Vincent again because her pulse nearly choked her when she did so. The Real-Helena was far too frightened of what he did to her to be able to be sure of herself in the slightest.
The Captain was lying on his back in the middle of the ship, seeming to be staring at the sky. She went and stood over him; he too looked as if he was taking a nap but as she prodded him once in the side with her foot, his eyes snapped open immediately. She sat down one leg opposite him. They said nothing, just sat there looking at each other.
“How was your day?” asked the Captain, breaking the silence.
“It was very nice,” she said, her voice light. She was, despite the nervousness, still very happy that they were actually having a conversation. “The food here is delicious.”
“I suppose.”
“Hm, just because you grew up with luscious banquets in a mansion every night.”
“Heh.” He chuckled quietly. “Not every night.”
“It was probably still better than anything I ate for dinner.”
“Probably.”
“Mm.”
She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he was playing with the wooden floor, drawing patterns and circles with his index finger absent-mindedly. She watched him trace shapes for a while and, entranced, leaned forward. His hand stopped moving and he slowly raised his gaze to meet hers; breathless he leaned as well, but still leaving a significant amount of space between them.
Annoyed,
He kissed her back but
Panting, she pulled away. “Sorry,” she said, straightening herself up and kissed him again, trying carefully not to pull him too forcefully. She felt his hands bringing her closer this time, not just supporting her. She was cross-legged, practically in his lap with a firm hand on her back, clasping her to him. Hers knotted in his hair and tugged; apparently too hard because he jerked and groaned.
“Ow,
She didn’t like this; she didn’t like interrogation but most of all she didn’t like this interruption. She didn’t like that she could breathe, because that meant that they weren’t kissing and the things wrong with that were infinite.
“I...” She began and rubbed her face in frustration; how did he expect her to put it into words? “I don’t feel at ease around you, not exactly; but it just feels worse to think about it when I’m not. With you. So I think it’s common sense to see the wise option is for me to be with. You.”
“I see,” said the Captain; he seemed pleased but kept his distance, apparently enjoying the way she crushed the fabric of her trousers in her hand as way of restraining herself. She leaned in again and kissed his lips quickly, just as chastely as he had for that first time and kept their mouths very, very close; teasing him. But her plan wasn’t going as well as she thought because seeing his breathing coming quicker made her twice as nervous, twice as excited and twice as impatient. He reached for her just as she reached for him.