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Sans Me Parler
BY: Elske*** "It's the big day tomorrow," Norrington murmured, attempting to make conversation, as he watched the lieutenant silently lingering over his breakfast tea. Gillette said nothing, merely poured a bit of milk into the cup while the tea steeped. The silence stretched between the two of them, long and lingering. The lieutenant didn't seem to be disturbed by the silence; he kept calmly preparing his tea – pouring it into the china cup with the milk, stirring it with a silver spoon. "It's unusual, isn't it? Strange circumstances for a wedding. Usually it's not quite so obvious, is it? But here…the bride-to-be is in love with another man. It's a smart match. A convenient match. She's a good girl, isn't she? Even though she's in love with that blacksmith, and I…" he trailed off, a little nervously, afraid…of what he almost admitted, afraid of what he wanted to admit. The other man seemed to take no notice of the Commodore's speech. He withdrew a silver case and a box of matches from an inside pocket, lit a match and then lit one of the cigarettes, began smoking it almost absently, never once looking at Norrington. "It's a very bleak day today, isn't it? Very rainy and…bleak. Dismal, isn't it?" The lieutenant made no response, merely put out his cigarette and got to his feet, reached for his uniform jacket and his hat and put both on slowly, methodically. He never looked at Norrington; he never spoke a word. "Not as bleak as tomorrow will be, I fear," Norrington whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. For one moment, Gillette looked down at Norrington. Their eyes met, for one thrilling electric moment, and then Gillette turned away and was gone, into the morning rain. Norrington watched him go and then, once the lieutenant was gone, he took his head in his hands and began to weep, softly, overwhelmed by it all. Tonight. He would tell Gillette tonight, tell him everything tonight, and damn the consequences. |
