xp_logs | The continuing saga that is Doug and Em... (Reply)

Set midafternoon today, around 2, in the laundry room. Because nobody's used the laundry room yet. Hee. :)

Doug sat Indian-style on top of one of the dryers in the laundry room, a copy of Frank Herbert's "Dune" open in his lap. There was something about doing laundry, he mused. The gentle thrumming sound of the washer, the warmth of sitting on top of the dryer, and that clean-laundry smell. Not only that, nothing beat putting on a pair of clean dry socks still warm from the dryer. He smiled happily and continued reading.

Marie entered the laundry room, humming to herself, a basket of laundry on her hip. She didn't notice Doug seated off to the side on the dryer. Placing her basket on a closed machine, she began to pull dark things out of one half of it and put them into the open washer in front of her. She looked purely happy and content, her thoughts obviously far from the laundry.

Doug, nose buried in his dog-eared paperback, had not noticed Marie enter, even with the humming. The metallic sound of the washer opening jerked Doug out of his science-fiction reverie, and he jumped slightly. Lowering the book, he saw Marie with her back to him, and a sad, slightly wistful look ghosted briefly across his face as he felt his shoulders tense with nervousness at being near her. He quietly watched her, not really wanting to break the silence with stammering half-conversation.

Closing the washer lid, Marie took a file folder of assignments out of her basket and fished around in it for a red pen. When she turned around to sit down at the small table in the room, she caught sight of Doug. Her happiness faded a little and the smile she gave him was sad. "Hi," she said, putting the folder down, moving cautiously as though a sudden motion might started him. She pulled out a chair and sat down. "How are you?" She didn't take her eyes off of him, studying his face and posture.

Doug blinked at a bit of dampness in his eye. ~How did we get here? Me afraid to see her or talk to her, her treating me like I'll break into a thousand pieces of she's not careful?~ His shoulders hunched forward as his hands clenched unconsciously at his knees. "I'm...okay," he lied. "You?" he asked quietly.

Marie watched his knuckles whiten and his shoulders tense. "You're not," she said quietly, dropping her eyes to the papers in front of her. "I've been good. Mostly happy." She sounded like she was confessing to a sin.

Doug winced at Marie's seeing through his lie. His face fell. "How do you always do that, Em? Am I that see-through?" He sighed. "But I'm glad you're happy. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I think the way I best heard love defined was 'putting the other person's happiness ahead of your own'. I _want_ you to be happy."

"I can tell." Marie put her pen down and looked up at him. "Your shoulders, they get tight and you kind of hold your breath like you're waiting for a blow," she said simply. Then she dropped her head into her hands, leaning her elbows on the table, and stayed that way for several breaths before she raised her head again. When she spoke, her voice was just audible above the hum of the machines. "God. Doug, how come this is so hard? You want me to be happy, I want you to be happy... do those things have to be so far apart?"

Doug ached with the desire to go over to Marie, hug her, and tell her that somehow everything would be okay. But he wasn't sure himself. And he didn't know how it would be received. He met her eyes sadly, strangely not afraid to let her see the jumble of feelings in them. "I don't know, Em. I don't have any easy answers for you. It's hard for me too. I..." He laughed slightly self-mockingly before closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I miss you. How silly is that, to miss someone who lives like twenty feet down the hall?"

"I can't make it different." Marie stood up and started across the room to Doug. "Is it easier to miss me?" She stopped in front of him, hands in her pockets, eyes searching his face for answers.

Doug's hands lay very still, palm-up on his knees. He wanted to reach out to her, but was afraid to. His lips quirked upwards in a strangely sad half-smirk. "I...have no idea, Em. It's not really very easy at all. I miss you, and that's hard. And then I'm around you, and that's hard too. But...knowing that it's not just me...that makes it a little easier. I was afraid that it _was_ just me, and I was being stupid." He trailed off and shrugged.

Marie reached out and put her hands in Doug's - dark wine gloves today, a thin, see-through fabric that transferred the warmth of her skin quickly to his. "It's not just you. I miss my friend," she said softly.

Doug smiled sadly as the tears he'd been trying to hold back trickled down his face. "I miss you too, Em," he answered slightly huskily. His hands tightened gently around hers.

Marie leaned in until his head rested on her shoulder, squeezing his hands a little, reassuring. "If I could make it easier, I would. But this is all I've got. I hate making you sad, Doug. It's awful and I'm so sorry and if I could fix it and still be me, I would."

Doug sniffled as tears soaked into Marie's shirt and his hands clutched at her back. "I'm s-sorry too, Em," he stammered out. "It's hurting me and h-hurting you, and I don't know how to f-fix it. I hate m-making you sad, too." He made a snurfing noise as he tried to swallow back some of his running nose.

Marie sighed and hugged Doug back. "I don't know how to fix it either. I guess it was easy on me. Logan just /left/ and I had to get on with my life. It was awful but I did it. It gets easier, it really does. And I don't mind if you're sad or angry. I just hate feeling like we're frozen."

Doug left his head on Marie's shoulder, trying to breathe deeply and stop sniffling. "...'m not angry at you, Em," he whispered quietly. "I don't think I could be. But I am sad. Because I hate this feeling too, and I hate what it's doing to both of us. We both want each other to be happy, and yet we're both so sad. But...if we both want to fix it...there's got to be a way we can."

"I don't think avoiding each other all the time is the answer," she said soothingly. "If you don't feel right around me, I won't be offended if you leave or if you want me to go. I'll understand. Time will fix it, Doug, it's just a matter of whether it fixes things with us being used to being together or apart."

Doug raised his head from Marie's shoulder and gazed into her eyes, still a little damp and with a lingering sadness, but also a hope that maybe this rift could be repaired. "I hope it's together," he said.

"Me too." She gave him a smile and stroked his cheek with one hand. "I think it'll be okay. Let's not avoid each other anymore, at least. Maybe it'll be a while before we can hang out and go to movies and stuff, but it's a start."

Doug closed his eyes at the feeling of Marie's hand on his cheek, firmly pushing down his instinctive reactions her touch created. "I...yeah." he responded. Suddenly, the dryer he'd been sitting on buzzed and he jumped. Hopping down, he opened the door and checked inside. Looking at Marie, he stammered. "I...I'm gonna..." he pointed at the laundry. "I'm gonna go, okay? But it's not a bad thing this time, promise."

"Yeah, not offended," she said, slipping her hands into her pockets and making her way back to the table. She sat down to do her marking but watched him gather his things instead. "You take care, right? You know where I am if you need me. Any time."

Doug smiled. "You're the best, Em. And you know the same goes for me, right?" He wrapped his arms around the pile of clothes and stopped at the door, gazing back at her, already partially immersed in her marking. "G'night." And with that, he slipped quietly out the door and down the hall to his room.

Marie shook her head at his sweetness. -Impossible.- "Thanks, Doug," she said, and turned back to her work before he was out the door.