Re: Hisao and Kenji: Masterful One Shots! Lent Update
Posted: Wed Mar 05, 2014 11:49 am
Part II:
Dream Capote sighed, “That is where you are wrong, my dear. You do, in fact, love Mr. Williams. You just won’t admit it because you feel any long term relationship would be impractical –a recurring theme regarding your love interests, it seems. I’d say you’re afraid of a long-term relationship, but really I think you’re just drawn to such men because of the mystique such a romance generates,” that chuckle again, “Or the two are completely unrelated and I’m just toying with your mind some more.”
I sighed and swished my wine glass a bit before stating, “You seem to be doing that a lot.”
Dream Capote chuckled and said, “The subconscious is a muddled thing, my dear. Working through the varied paths and trails is a difficult task at the best of times. That’s why so many cultures advise some form of aid –drug induced hallucination, for instance.”
Tilting my head at him, I smirked and asked, “So I am hallucinating?”
“As I said, it doesn’t really matter,” Dream Capote replied, “What matters is that you love Mr. Williams and refuse to admit it. As long as you reject your own feelings, your relationship with him will sour and degrade. Much like the incident with your friend’s Hisao and Hanako back in high school, when he refused his feelings of love to better be able to ‘help’ Hanako.”
I sighed and nodded in agreement, although I would like to think I had a little more tact and knowledge when it came to dealings of the opposite gender in college than Hisao did in high school. After all, when it came to the two’s early relationship at the time, Hisao was slightly more knowledgeable about such things than a wine cork.
“Still,” I said, “the fact remains he is an international student studying abroad, and I’m a halfer with ties to two continents –neither of which are near his home. I don’t want to hurt him by having to leave him –or he me…” sighing and pausing to organize my thoughts, I continued, “but you are right in that I can’t deny my feelings indefinitely,” I sighed again and emptied my glass of wine, holding onto the glass for the comfort of the smoothness of the crystal as I mused, “I seem to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, as the expression goes.”
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” he remarked, “Your blood family is in Scotland, your new family is here in Japan, and your boyfriend lives in Canada. He will more than likely return once he’s finished his studies –though you never know for sure with his type-,”
I quirked an eyebrow at my companion and asked, “His type?”
“I mean no offence,” he replied, “but he did come to Japan for reasons beyond academia –personal interest played a large role as well. Perhaps he’ll also stay for such reasons– or others.”
I sighed and pouted again, “That doesn’t exactly help.”
Dream Capote chuckled and stated, “I’m just helping you get everything out in the open, my dear. Presuming he does leave, though, you are not the type to maintain a long term relationship, and I imagine you wouldn’t want to make him stay just for you, either –though if you truly love each other, that would most certainly keep him here.”
I groaned lightly and rubbed my head with my free hand, the information overload wearing on me as we ran through the various outcomes of my action. Sighing and titling my head to the direction of his voice, I asked, “I thought you were supposed to help?”
“I help those who help themselves,” he declared.
I chuckled weakly and drank from the glass again, forgetting that I had emptied it. Surprisingly, the glass was once more full, so I took my time slowly sipping it dry, trying to organize my dream addled thoughts while remembering all the times George and I had spent together, and how Hisao, Hanako, and even Kenji had accepted him as part of my life.
Kind, considerate, generally quiet, but with spurts of passion and playfulness, all buried under a layer of calm professionalism that he was all too willing to break in private or if it struck his fancy. Much like myself, in other words, although he was more willing to disregard appearances; a feat of which I found myself rather envious.
Sighing again, I stated, “…If I deny my feelings, I’m hurting both of us… yet if I admit them, I will more than likely hurt us in the future, and complicate our lives. Quite the maddening conundrum, it seems.”
“Indeed,” Dream Capote said, “Although, if you deny your feelings, you are also lying to yourself and Mr. Williams.”
I nodded, “I would never lie to my partner. I don’t like lying in general, really…” sighing for what seemed the thousandth time during this dream-like… thing I was experiencing, I smirked lightly and mused, “I suppose there really isn’t any choice, is there?”
“There is always a choice,” Dream Capote declared, “Never forget that.”
After that, I heard Hanako mumbling and gently shaking me, and I was awake. Or no longer hallucinating; I’m still honestly not sure what had happened.
“Lilly?” Hanako asked as she gently pushed my shoulder.
“I’m awake,” I mumbled. I opened my eyes and tilted my head slightly toward the sound of Hanako’s voice, switching back to Japanese to ask, “Is he here?”
“I’m here,” George’s accented voice declared, and I smiled.
I heard someone shuffling next to the bed and felt George’s hand on mine, and I somehow managed an even wider smile.
“George,” I breathed, “Thank you for coming.”
“Sorry it took me so long,” George said, “I had class, and then I decided to whip up something to help, and that took some time-”
“It’s all right,” I said, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
I heard a cough near the door and tensed up from surprise, not expecting or realizing someone else was in the room.
“Hanako?” Hisao’s voice said from the door, “You wanna go grab some te- er, something?”
I chuckled weakly, “There’s no need to change your dietary habits on my account, Hisao. Hanako, you should go.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I reached out with my free hand and felt Hanako hold it, “I’m sure. George is here, and I’ve been a great deal of trouble for you. You should get out for a bit. Please?”
“A-alright,” Hanako said. She gently squeezed my hand, let go of it, flipped the cloth on my head, and then I heard her shuffle to the door, which closed a moment later.
“So…” George said, possibly somewhat flustered by the fact we were alone, or perhaps unsure which language to use. Settling on Japanese, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, nauseous, I have a horrible headache, I have an English paper due at the end of the month that I’ve barely started, my arms and legs hurt, and I’ve been bothering poor Hanako with barely sane ramblings about my worry that you wouldn’t come see me. I also possibly might be hallucinating spirit journeys involving dead thespians.”
“…Well, I think I can solve some of those,” he stated. Letting go of my hand, I heard him fiddle with something plastic sounding. While he did whatever he was doing, he stated, “This is an herbal tea my great-grandmother cooked up for dealing with flu symptoms. I wasn’t sure of the recipe so I ended up calling my sister for help, which is what took so long-”
“How long ago was your class?” I interjected; I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep.
“Oh, about two hours,” he replied, “I spent most of that time talking with my sister over the recipe, because she wasn’t sure of some of the proportions and then she insisted on updating me about what every singly cousin has been up to since I last called her –which took way too long because I had to keep asking her which cousin was who– I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’m not really sure if this will work, honestly, but it’s worth a shot. Um, I need to set you up a bit, if that’s okay.”
It took me a few moments to absorb George’s remarks, as I was still a bit groggy from my nap, and still plagued with caffeine withdrawal. Eventually it all started to click, so I smiled and slowly eased myself onto my elbows.
“Will this do, or should I sit up completely?” I asked.
“That should work,” George stated. I felt one of his hands on my back and tensed for a moment at the sensation before relaxing and placing some of my weight onto it, “I’ll hold the cup for you, okay?”
I nodded, opened my mouth, and waited. I felt curved warm plastic gently pressed against my lips, and George carefully titled the cup back for me. I sipped slowly at first, in case the tea was too hot or bitter, but it was neither. The actual taste is hard to describe, but it had a hint of a smoky, wooden flavor, with a mild mix of spices that blended so much I wasn’t able to single any of them out. Since I can normally do that, I was a little disconcerted for a moment, but the tea was warm and soothing, and I was in several different varieties of pain, so in the end I found it hard to care. As a result, I pretty much guzzled the contents of the cup, sighing contentedly when I was finished.
When I had finished the tea, George asked, “How’s it taste?”
“Very nice,” I declared, “May I ask what’s in it?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” George remarked, “A lot of medical science based around various herbal remedies, and the proper proportions. Would you like another cup?”
“Not right now, thank you,” I said, “I feel a bit better, but I don’t want to risk having to keep too much down.”
“Okay. It’ll be here when you want some more –I have a whole thermos here- and I’ll be here, too, for a while. Maybe help you with that paper later, if you feel up for it.”
I smiled and nodded, “Thank you….George?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“…I love you, too.”
I felt a hand on my cheek, warm, welcoming and soft against my weary skin. I turned my head and let George lead my lips to his. Our kiss was brief as the shift in weight made the position uncomfortable for both of us –not that I minded at the moment- but being close to his warmth was just as soothing as the tea. When we pulled apart, I hefted myself up so I was sitting, the cloth on my head slipping down into my lap in the process.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, “I just need to use the bathroom. Could you lend me a hand? I’m afraid I’m still rather woozy.”
“Absolutely,” George declared, “Um, well, I can help walk you there. You’re on your own after that.”
I giggled and nodded, “Very well.”
George helped me up slowly, and though he staggered a bit when I leaned against him, we managed to shuffle our way to the bathroom easily enough.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No problem,” George stated, “I’ll be by the door when you’re done.”
Reaching a hand out for the door, I grabbed the lever and leaned against it. George waited a moment before easing away from me. I managed to stay upright by leaning on the door, making sure I was steady before doing anything more. When I was sure I wouldn’t topple over, I knocked feebly on the door to make sure one of our suitemates wasn’t inside. No one responded, but before I opened it, I had something to say to my boyfriend.
Turning to where he said he would be, I called, “George?”
“I’m still here,” he declared.
“I know,” I stated. Smiling weakly, I said, “I… I want you to know that I meant what I said. I do love you.”
“I know; you’re not the type to casually say that sort of thing.”
I smiled and turned the lever to open the door, “And neither are you.”
+++
…Where am I? The last thing I remember is watching TCM…
Anyway, writing Lilly was a fun little challenge, which I hope I pulled off well.
Hoped all y’all liked that. I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Until next time.
/smokebomb.
Dream Capote sighed, “That is where you are wrong, my dear. You do, in fact, love Mr. Williams. You just won’t admit it because you feel any long term relationship would be impractical –a recurring theme regarding your love interests, it seems. I’d say you’re afraid of a long-term relationship, but really I think you’re just drawn to such men because of the mystique such a romance generates,” that chuckle again, “Or the two are completely unrelated and I’m just toying with your mind some more.”
I sighed and swished my wine glass a bit before stating, “You seem to be doing that a lot.”
Dream Capote chuckled and said, “The subconscious is a muddled thing, my dear. Working through the varied paths and trails is a difficult task at the best of times. That’s why so many cultures advise some form of aid –drug induced hallucination, for instance.”
Tilting my head at him, I smirked and asked, “So I am hallucinating?”
“As I said, it doesn’t really matter,” Dream Capote replied, “What matters is that you love Mr. Williams and refuse to admit it. As long as you reject your own feelings, your relationship with him will sour and degrade. Much like the incident with your friend’s Hisao and Hanako back in high school, when he refused his feelings of love to better be able to ‘help’ Hanako.”
I sighed and nodded in agreement, although I would like to think I had a little more tact and knowledge when it came to dealings of the opposite gender in college than Hisao did in high school. After all, when it came to the two’s early relationship at the time, Hisao was slightly more knowledgeable about such things than a wine cork.
“Still,” I said, “the fact remains he is an international student studying abroad, and I’m a halfer with ties to two continents –neither of which are near his home. I don’t want to hurt him by having to leave him –or he me…” sighing and pausing to organize my thoughts, I continued, “but you are right in that I can’t deny my feelings indefinitely,” I sighed again and emptied my glass of wine, holding onto the glass for the comfort of the smoothness of the crystal as I mused, “I seem to be stuck between a rock and a hard place, as the expression goes.”
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” he remarked, “Your blood family is in Scotland, your new family is here in Japan, and your boyfriend lives in Canada. He will more than likely return once he’s finished his studies –though you never know for sure with his type-,”
I quirked an eyebrow at my companion and asked, “His type?”
“I mean no offence,” he replied, “but he did come to Japan for reasons beyond academia –personal interest played a large role as well. Perhaps he’ll also stay for such reasons– or others.”
I sighed and pouted again, “That doesn’t exactly help.”
Dream Capote chuckled and stated, “I’m just helping you get everything out in the open, my dear. Presuming he does leave, though, you are not the type to maintain a long term relationship, and I imagine you wouldn’t want to make him stay just for you, either –though if you truly love each other, that would most certainly keep him here.”
I groaned lightly and rubbed my head with my free hand, the information overload wearing on me as we ran through the various outcomes of my action. Sighing and titling my head to the direction of his voice, I asked, “I thought you were supposed to help?”
“I help those who help themselves,” he declared.
I chuckled weakly and drank from the glass again, forgetting that I had emptied it. Surprisingly, the glass was once more full, so I took my time slowly sipping it dry, trying to organize my dream addled thoughts while remembering all the times George and I had spent together, and how Hisao, Hanako, and even Kenji had accepted him as part of my life.
Kind, considerate, generally quiet, but with spurts of passion and playfulness, all buried under a layer of calm professionalism that he was all too willing to break in private or if it struck his fancy. Much like myself, in other words, although he was more willing to disregard appearances; a feat of which I found myself rather envious.
Sighing again, I stated, “…If I deny my feelings, I’m hurting both of us… yet if I admit them, I will more than likely hurt us in the future, and complicate our lives. Quite the maddening conundrum, it seems.”
“Indeed,” Dream Capote said, “Although, if you deny your feelings, you are also lying to yourself and Mr. Williams.”
I nodded, “I would never lie to my partner. I don’t like lying in general, really…” sighing for what seemed the thousandth time during this dream-like… thing I was experiencing, I smirked lightly and mused, “I suppose there really isn’t any choice, is there?”
“There is always a choice,” Dream Capote declared, “Never forget that.”
After that, I heard Hanako mumbling and gently shaking me, and I was awake. Or no longer hallucinating; I’m still honestly not sure what had happened.
“Lilly?” Hanako asked as she gently pushed my shoulder.
“I’m awake,” I mumbled. I opened my eyes and tilted my head slightly toward the sound of Hanako’s voice, switching back to Japanese to ask, “Is he here?”
“I’m here,” George’s accented voice declared, and I smiled.
I heard someone shuffling next to the bed and felt George’s hand on mine, and I somehow managed an even wider smile.
“George,” I breathed, “Thank you for coming.”
“Sorry it took me so long,” George said, “I had class, and then I decided to whip up something to help, and that took some time-”
“It’s all right,” I said, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
I heard a cough near the door and tensed up from surprise, not expecting or realizing someone else was in the room.
“Hanako?” Hisao’s voice said from the door, “You wanna go grab some te- er, something?”
I chuckled weakly, “There’s no need to change your dietary habits on my account, Hisao. Hanako, you should go.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I reached out with my free hand and felt Hanako hold it, “I’m sure. George is here, and I’ve been a great deal of trouble for you. You should get out for a bit. Please?”
“A-alright,” Hanako said. She gently squeezed my hand, let go of it, flipped the cloth on my head, and then I heard her shuffle to the door, which closed a moment later.
“So…” George said, possibly somewhat flustered by the fact we were alone, or perhaps unsure which language to use. Settling on Japanese, he asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, nauseous, I have a horrible headache, I have an English paper due at the end of the month that I’ve barely started, my arms and legs hurt, and I’ve been bothering poor Hanako with barely sane ramblings about my worry that you wouldn’t come see me. I also possibly might be hallucinating spirit journeys involving dead thespians.”
“…Well, I think I can solve some of those,” he stated. Letting go of my hand, I heard him fiddle with something plastic sounding. While he did whatever he was doing, he stated, “This is an herbal tea my great-grandmother cooked up for dealing with flu symptoms. I wasn’t sure of the recipe so I ended up calling my sister for help, which is what took so long-”
“How long ago was your class?” I interjected; I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep.
“Oh, about two hours,” he replied, “I spent most of that time talking with my sister over the recipe, because she wasn’t sure of some of the proportions and then she insisted on updating me about what every singly cousin has been up to since I last called her –which took way too long because I had to keep asking her which cousin was who– I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’m not really sure if this will work, honestly, but it’s worth a shot. Um, I need to set you up a bit, if that’s okay.”
It took me a few moments to absorb George’s remarks, as I was still a bit groggy from my nap, and still plagued with caffeine withdrawal. Eventually it all started to click, so I smiled and slowly eased myself onto my elbows.
“Will this do, or should I sit up completely?” I asked.
“That should work,” George stated. I felt one of his hands on my back and tensed for a moment at the sensation before relaxing and placing some of my weight onto it, “I’ll hold the cup for you, okay?”
I nodded, opened my mouth, and waited. I felt curved warm plastic gently pressed against my lips, and George carefully titled the cup back for me. I sipped slowly at first, in case the tea was too hot or bitter, but it was neither. The actual taste is hard to describe, but it had a hint of a smoky, wooden flavor, with a mild mix of spices that blended so much I wasn’t able to single any of them out. Since I can normally do that, I was a little disconcerted for a moment, but the tea was warm and soothing, and I was in several different varieties of pain, so in the end I found it hard to care. As a result, I pretty much guzzled the contents of the cup, sighing contentedly when I was finished.
When I had finished the tea, George asked, “How’s it taste?”
“Very nice,” I declared, “May I ask what’s in it?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” George remarked, “A lot of medical science based around various herbal remedies, and the proper proportions. Would you like another cup?”
“Not right now, thank you,” I said, “I feel a bit better, but I don’t want to risk having to keep too much down.”
“Okay. It’ll be here when you want some more –I have a whole thermos here- and I’ll be here, too, for a while. Maybe help you with that paper later, if you feel up for it.”
I smiled and nodded, “Thank you….George?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“…I love you, too.”
I felt a hand on my cheek, warm, welcoming and soft against my weary skin. I turned my head and let George lead my lips to his. Our kiss was brief as the shift in weight made the position uncomfortable for both of us –not that I minded at the moment- but being close to his warmth was just as soothing as the tea. When we pulled apart, I hefted myself up so I was sitting, the cloth on my head slipping down into my lap in the process.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded, “I just need to use the bathroom. Could you lend me a hand? I’m afraid I’m still rather woozy.”
“Absolutely,” George declared, “Um, well, I can help walk you there. You’re on your own after that.”
I giggled and nodded, “Very well.”
George helped me up slowly, and though he staggered a bit when I leaned against him, we managed to shuffle our way to the bathroom easily enough.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No problem,” George stated, “I’ll be by the door when you’re done.”
Reaching a hand out for the door, I grabbed the lever and leaned against it. George waited a moment before easing away from me. I managed to stay upright by leaning on the door, making sure I was steady before doing anything more. When I was sure I wouldn’t topple over, I knocked feebly on the door to make sure one of our suitemates wasn’t inside. No one responded, but before I opened it, I had something to say to my boyfriend.
Turning to where he said he would be, I called, “George?”
“I’m still here,” he declared.
“I know,” I stated. Smiling weakly, I said, “I… I want you to know that I meant what I said. I do love you.”
“I know; you’re not the type to casually say that sort of thing.”
I smiled and turned the lever to open the door, “And neither are you.”
+++
…Where am I? The last thing I remember is watching TCM…
Anyway, writing Lilly was a fun little challenge, which I hope I pulled off well.
Hoped all y’all liked that. I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Until next time.
/smokebomb.
.
)