“They were worried about their daughter so the tone came out harsher than they meant.” That might’ve been a comfort to him, as the first sentiment she made to him was; had it not been for the fact he assumed these feelings of dislike in them based on their countenances while facing him, and how little was said between them. They said very little, Booker assumed again, because they want to appear nice so they swallowed down any insult or dislike they felt for him.
“But as long as you and Blaire love and are happy with each other that is more important than what anyone else thinks.” Booker’s heart ached as she said that. It was too shocked until now to break fully, but every notion that it is final could give it the final push to break into a million little pieces. “I don’t think Blaire has any feelings left for me. But you be the judge of that.” he said clutching his phone which held that cursed image that signified the end of the relationship, and he had no heart to show it to Elena. He wanted to first tell his story, at a risk of influencing Elena to think more badly about Blaire first withouth knowing all the facts of how he hurt her. He thought he was wrong, but not nearly enough to warrant such a response, but he knew nothing about relationships, beside what he felt was right or wrong, so he can’t go by his own feelings and thoughts alone.
"Okay, I’ll begin the story then. I have this medical condition. I’ll tell you this and no more because I hate sharing this fact about myself. It always warrants pity and I despise it. At first I didn’t tell it to Blaire because I didn’t know her enough to tell her I’ll probably die young, but as our relationship grew the time to tell her seemed long gone. As I started thinking of her as a long-term partner and as time grew, I dreaded telling her about it and was looking for a way to tell her but also the excuse to give her as to why I didn’t tell her that information sooner. I finally told her after we were discharged from the hospital and she was waiting for me … See, a lot of things can harm me, like inhaling a lot of any type of smoke, especially tobacco smoke. Bless her, she didn’t even know I smoked at the party, she was angry that I came in to the fire and helped some Camilla girl out and risked inhaling the smoke with said condition. She was right to be angry with me for not telling her before … " Hey eyes welled up with tears as he looked at the unlit cigarette between his finger. “I look at this dmaned cigarette, that has the power to kill me and wonder if now that Blaire is out of my life and the probability of me making it after the 40s being so low … If life is worth it without Blaire, a family, any posibillity of having a fulfilling career or life before I die, or any will to do anything but to have a fun and adventurous life, which I can do if I die young … So I look at this unlit thing on the edge of lighting it and letting it be, as if this one is the deciding factor between dying young or living a horrible, long existence. I look at it as if it’s the ONLY factor.” He flicked the cigarette away and started crying. He was not only mourning Blaire and his relationship, but also the fact he had a choice and chose still to live a long and horrible life filled with restrictions rather than going out with a bang. In that moment of drunkness he made his decision and immediately regretted it. He made his choice assuming that Blaire would be by his side and for that he’d try to live longer, but he remembered that even if she wanted him back, he’s not so keen to forgive her himself, and that the posibility of them being back together is minimal.
“Without communication, how are you supposed to know what the other person is feeling? If you don’t communicate with each other you will eventually get to the point that you guys don’t even talk and that would be even worse.” Her sentence pulled him out of the darkness that overtook him as it made him laugh. “We haven’t talked since that day at the hospital. I’ve been trying to reach out to her all this time, and she ignored every attempt and I think she blocked me on something. I’m not exactly sure where, but there was no answer to any of them. That, I am sure of. Earlier today …” He ran out of his drink and he wanted to order another one, so he stopped to wave to the bartender.
“Garcon!” He called after him
“Same again, sir?” The bartender asked
"No! What the lady ordered was fine, don’t get me wrong. But I’d like something less sweet … Maybe more bitter. "
“A pint of bitters, sir?”
Booker thought for a bit on that, before giving a resound “No!” and he continued “I’ll have a scotch, one that has an oaky taste or like dark, unsweetened chocolate.” He looked at Elena and thought she should taste a fine scotch as well. “Make that two, but make it a good quality one, I’m not short on clink to serve me whatever you put in that cocktail.” He chuckled to make sure the bartender knows it’s a joke, and not an insult or jest.
He turned back to her as the bartender served them both an Oban scotch, aged 14 years and asked her. “Where was I?”
@Kate - Elena
@Kbail - Blaire mentioned
