ArchivedLogs:Let Go

Let Go
Dramatis Personae Hive, Melinda
In Absentia	2014-12-16 '
Location <NYC> {Geekhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
There's an open airy feel to the floorplan of this unit. The door opens up into a wide expanse of common space that is not so much divided up into rooms as it is simply multipurposed. Ash-grey resin flooring underfoot runs up against the paler grey of the exposed stone in the walls; between the stone support there are wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the river on one side of the home and the Commons' central yard on the other. Half of the space has a ceiling at one-floor height, though half of the space is left open with a balcony up on the second floor overlooking the living space below. A slatted stairway heads up to the second floor balcony; on the other side of the room, a fireman's pole running straight down the the basement provides a quicker way /down/. The wide open space here is combination living and dining room; near the windows there are a pair of couches and large armchair around a wide coffeetable; further off a steel-and-glass dining table is surrounded by eight tall black chairs. A full bathroom behind the stairway is done up in dark granite; the glass-doored bathtub/shower is rather expansively large. The kitchen is tucked off in back, beneath the half-height ceiling; in here the appliances and cabinets and shelving recessed into the wall are in brushed steel, wide grey sweeps of tempered glass countertops running around the edge of the room and a large central island holding stoves and oven and deep double sink. Adjacent to the kitchen, beneath the ceiling as well, is a sitting area structured largely around the enormous television against one wall, a wealth of video games for a number of consoles held on the shelves around the television. Crates and beanbags and one low futon folded against the floor are arranged in good viewing distance; opposite the television, a sturdy large pen built out of wood shrines a couch amid a sea of brightly colorful playpen balls. A door in one wall opens up to the apartment next door; a door opposite leads down to the basement. Music is playing in Geekhaus. Quiet, but with the sound system wired as it is it fills the downstairs well enough. Simon and Garfunkel. "Wednesday Morning, 3 am". It smells like food in here, though none is cooking -- it's drifting over from Lighthaus next door. Probably Jax and Micah will be eating well, soon enough. Over by the television Flicker has fallen asleep on a beanbag, not even made it so far as his bedroom downstairs, backpack just dumped on the floor. Hive is across the house, at the dining table with laptop beside him and shiny BIRTHDAY holo-projector set up. He's staring more /through/ the current projection than /at/ it, eyes a little glassy-glazed as he looks at the half-finished construction. He's slouched into a chair, doing a very poor job of propping himself up. Eyes drooping half-closed. Melinda has been avoiding the place, to be honest. Sharp pain out of no where in the middle of the night woke both her and Tola, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. No word from anyone else on the subject kept her from asking as well. She pushed down worry and went about her day, going to work, fretting quietly, keeping busy. Afterwards, she went home to eat and spend the night in, but she couldn't sit still. She fidgeted and squirmed in her chair, looking over her shoulder constantly until Tove dismissed her with a shake of his head. Her key makes getting through the front door easy enough, but it takes Mel a long time to put it into the lock and turn it. When she does, she does so quietly, trying to make out what is going on in the room before announcing herself, luckily for Flicker. She slips out of her boots at the door and removes her coat. She heads in further and finds the sleeping figure on the bean bag. She snatches a blanket up and covers him as gently as possible, studying his collapse with a tiny pang of worry. Finally, she turns her attention toward the glowing source of light in the room. She pads over, her lips pursing. Hive slouches down further into the chair, batting at the holographic display in front of him with one shaking hand. His eyes close the rest of the way. A ripple of mental touch shivers through the room, faintly uncomfortable. Kind of headachey. Kind of nauseated. Kind of << (hello). >> His hand lifts, knuckles digging against his eye -- face pale, deep shadows beneath it, he doesn't look like he's been sleeping much. "Keep. Letting work slide." There's something in Mel's mind that welcomes that mental touch, no matter what comes with it. She'll gladly take it when it's there as it won't always be. "That'll happen," when you're busy dying, her mind fills in, somber and resigned. "Did you get the itch? Got a new idea you wanted to get down?" She rests a hand on the back of his chair as she turns her attention to the display, picking out some of the features of what he's working on. "Client. I'm -- kind of," Hive admits, wry and not at all guilty, "a little past deadline." He has a rough breath exhaled with this. Almost a laugh. His finger twirls at the image again, spinning it in midair. It could be an apartment building, perhaps. Spaces for homes. Spaces for recreation. "Just want to. Finish. How's. Work?" "Oh, you know. People are demanding, the coffee flows hot. We had a good delivery of cinnamon rolls this morning. Still gooey when they came out of the box. It was pretty amazing." Niggling concern starts mellowing into the core of tired acceptance. Time is short. Enjoy the small moments. She moves in behind Hive and wraps her arms around his shoulders, bowing her head as she hugs him, burying her face against his neck. "Looks nice." "Sounds. Delicious." Hive bows his head. His teeth grind slowly. Creakily. His shoulders shiver against her, his breathing coming a little raggedly. The next press of his mind up against hers is sharper, more painful. "... fuck." It's a soft rough whisper. The breath he pulls in is kind of wet. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Mel's arms loosen, but she doesn't pull away just yet. "What should I do? Let go? Help you to bed? I... didn't mean to." "No." Hive's voice is clipped. He scrubs his face down against Mel's arm. "... Bed. Maybe bed. I. Just. Bad -- day." He swats at his designs harder this time. Collapsing them out of sight. "Okay. Bed." Melinda moves around to his side, shuffling to get an arm around her shoulders so she can help him get to his feet. Her arm goes around the small of his back as he stands, keeping him close. "Sometimes all you can do about a bad day is go back to bed." Hive only answers this with a shaky -- sob? Laugh? His head presses to Mel's side, his own shoulders shaking. He leans heavily against her, unsteady-faltering in his steps. "... maybe just. Couch. I can't. Stairs." And the couches are /right/ there. "Yeah, yeah. Sure. The couch." Melinda's arm is strong. She's been doing a lot of weight lifting lately. That child just keeps getting heavier. She steers the pair of them over to the couch and settles down carefully onto the surface, letting Hive get settled first before she figures out where she is sitting. Hive shifts once he is settled, moving to make enough room at one side for Mel to sit -- enough room for him to tuck his head up against her leg. His eyes close, teeth slowly grinding together with a quiet creaking. A muscle in his temple twitches, and he falls into silence. Melinda holds her arms up until he is settled, then lets them drape across him. One rests on his shoulder and across his chest. The other begins to lightly run through his hair. Her shoulders sink into the cushions as her eyes search his face, studying it and committing his features to memory. When she finds the circles under his eyes too dark and his skin to thin, she remembers how he was the summer before last, when they kissed in the kitchen. Hive is still quiet. Still /still/. But his breathing gets a little bit less steady. Tears slowly squeeze out from his eyes, trickling sideways down his face to drip against Mel's leg. Melinda's hands slow for a moment, then wraps herself around him a little more. "Shhhh, Hive. It's okay. You have to rest, love. Just let it go and rest." She presses a kiss to his temple. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."