Dialogue credit to Ray Garrsion as John Rookwood
Morning comes like any other. He wakes up wrapped around a smaller body, enjoying the sensation of heat in the cold, snowy winter. His move four months ago was abrupt, but wonderful. A home. Warmth. Someone to care about and worry about constantly, a sort of balance in the way he needs to keep that focus so he can enjoy something besides work. He spends a moment relaxing, enjoying the silent ambiance of the house until the heat kicks on. Outside the bedroom window, snow falls, sticking to the glass. Growing up in Florida, it was something he'd never seen. He was too far South for the snows in Northern Florida, but even now he's mesmerized all the same.
He sits up, reaching over to kiss his lover, ignoring his sleepy moans to be left alone before slipping out of bed. This was humanity. A job. A healthy relationship. Happiness. Years ago he never thought it was possible, but his hard work has helped him find a spot in the world where he's just...happy. Such a strange transition. He loves where he is, where his life is. For the first time he can probably say he's genuinely happy.
His morning routine is always the same- start a kettle of tea for his boyfriend, start coffee for himself, and long on to read the news. He doesn't like television, and the two of them never really have a need for it, so he's avoided getting some kind of cable service for a while now. Money he just doesn't want to spend, really. So instead he searches several news sites to get different sides and view points, trying to keep up to date on the humans and their shenanigans as the days pass on. For an immortal like himself, it doesn't seem as slow as he hoped.
Emails from his new boss wait in his inbox, followed by one from an address he doesn't recognize. He reads and frowns, confused, unsure what might contain.
James Harriss | HarrissJ@Gmail.com
Subject: It's Allison
It's been a few weeks. I hope I would here from you.
Her typos are expected, reflections of her struggle to get her mind back into place.
I know you're angry. I'm so sorry. If I could relate to you just how sorry I am... What happened with you, your father, it will never go away. I know this. I miss you. I forgot about you. The stroke made me forget. I don't remember what I did to make you hate me.
He doesn't hate her. He doesn't know her. His childhood was spent much on his own, left to wonder what he's going to do with himself. He wants a family. Someone to just love him and remind him he has a home and can be happy. Years were spent waiting for some form of love from his parent, for her to tell him he was a good boy, that she loved him. He brought her gifts, talked positively about her, but it never seemed enough. Every boyfriend was referred to "daddy", he was told everything would be whole soon.
I love you, son. I always loved you but it's so scary being a mom, especially when he ran out on us... Your father wanted nothing to do with you. I panicked. Please be safe. I see you on the internet. You've done so well for yourself.
I'm proud of you. I want to come see you.
Words he's never quite seen anyone say to him. He's someone taken aback, unsure how to process someone saying that to him. That they love him. That they're proud of him.
And then it dons on him how much the man in his bedrooms says the same thing with such feeling and love, and the sudden shock slips away. He wants so bad to relate to the blood in his veins, but there's something that's distracting him.
"Aren’t you supposed to love your parents even if they treat you like shit?”
"No. That's not a rule anywhere."
He's right. That's not a rule. He has what he wants. Support. He's built his own family and made his own
Allison Beitz | Allbeitz@gmail.com
Re: It's Allison
I've moved on a long time ago. I spent years trying to decide who my love needed to go to. For a long time I was torn between Neegan and you, then others who gave me winks of kindness. I wanted for so long to just have anything that would show how much someone loved me. I wanted you to love me.
I'm happy. I have someone I care about. I have a home. I hope that gives you comfort.
But I think seeing you wont do either of us any good.
I discussed it with John. We can't salvage this, Mom.
I do love you, but I'm at the point where I need to make sure I'm okay, not everyone else around me. Maybe some day. But I just can't right now.
Wherever you are, please be safe.
The childhood nickname she used when she was sober, when she was happy. He stares at the context of his message, and then hits send. There's a somber feeling hitting him, but he knows he made the right choice. He needs to move on. From her, from Neegan, from his past. She needs to be sober. He needs Neegan out of the way.
The ticking of a clock distracts him a moment, reminding him he's home, and safe, and where he's always wanted to be.