[ She stews, for a while. Cleans her dagger, stews some more. She's not going back to their rooms because – well, she's just not. Got things to do. Cleaning her dagger for one. But there's only so many times Anne can scrub a piece of metal before she has to admit to herself that it's not dirty any more, and then she's just staying out because she doesn't want to go back and talk to him face to face. There's not much Anne can't stomach, but sometimes the way Jack's face crumples when she does something he doesn't understand hits her like a physical pain. Might be easier to do this when they're not face to face. ]
need to talk to you
need to talk to you
[ If they were face to face right now, Anne would have just spat it out. But there's something about this, knowing she's talking to him and not hearing his voice or seeing his face, that's making it easier for her to contemplate the idea of keeping a lid on it, something she'd never do otherwise. It's a strange feeling to want to hide something from Jack. She's only felt it once before, and that was with Max. This, by comparison, is less damning.
But still. A moment ago she'd been grateful for this device, but now she's having to enter each letter into her confession and send it to him, she's overthinking more than she usually does about anything. She can't tell whether it's better or worse that he's not there to look her in the eye. ]
saw billy bones
we had an argument
didn't last very long
But still. A moment ago she'd been grateful for this device, but now she's having to enter each letter into her confession and send it to him, she's overthinking more than she usually does about anything. She can't tell whether it's better or worse that he's not there to look her in the eye. ]
saw billy bones
we had an argument
didn't last very long
[ For a moment she considers pressing the red button, which she understands from context clues is meant to be a refusal. Red for stop, green for go, that makes sense even to her. But a second after thinking it she dismisses the thought. Billy Bones isn't worth putting a real thorn in Jack's side. ]
Things got heated.
[ It's still weird to hear Jack's voice coming out of this flat, smooth, tiny thing. She feels a little bit stupid talking into it. ]
He was being a cunt, Jack.
Things got heated.
[ It's still weird to hear Jack's voice coming out of this flat, smooth, tiny thing. She feels a little bit stupid talking into it. ]
He was being a cunt, Jack.
I don't know.
[ That's not a lie, she really doesn't. She'd just sort of left him there, and the rationality for that decision is still there, ready to be deployed. ]
It's not like it makes a fucking difference, is it? He'll come back. People don't stay dead here. So whether I killed him or not doesn't fucking matter.
[ Somewhere in the middle of all that, her voice went a little waspish, sharp, overly defensive. She's never felt the need to defend herself over much, not to Jack at least, but she can feel fury under her skin again, bubbling, simmering. ]
Ain't it enough for you to know I had my reasons?
[ That's not a lie, she really doesn't. She'd just sort of left him there, and the rationality for that decision is still there, ready to be deployed. ]
It's not like it makes a fucking difference, is it? He'll come back. People don't stay dead here. So whether I killed him or not doesn't fucking matter.
[ Somewhere in the middle of all that, her voice went a little waspish, sharp, overly defensive. She's never felt the need to defend herself over much, not to Jack at least, but she can feel fury under her skin again, bubbling, simmering. ]
Ain't it enough for you to know I had my reasons?
[ She can remember their conversation almost word-for-word. It wasn't much of one, if she's honest with herself, but it'd been enough at the time to warrant a blade to the gut. ]
Saw him across the street. He's fucking tall, couldn't miss him. I said you told me he was here. He said he was fucking sorry I'm here too. The fuck am I supposed to do with sorry, Jack? And then— [ The words tumble out of her a little, like she's trying to circumvent him before he can interrupt her and answer that question. ] And then he fucking calls me Anne.
Saw him across the street. He's fucking tall, couldn't miss him. I said you told me he was here. He said he was fucking sorry I'm here too. The fuck am I supposed to do with sorry, Jack? And then— [ The words tumble out of her a little, like she's trying to circumvent him before he can interrupt her and answer that question. ] And then he fucking calls me Anne.
Fuck you, Jack.
[ Jesus, she wishes she'd just faced the music and hunted him down to talk to him face to face, because that doesn't feel half as satisfying when she's just snarling it to a blank bit of machinery. ]
What the fuck happened to you being on my side? You said it'd be us to the fucking end.
[ Jesus, she wishes she'd just faced the music and hunted him down to talk to him face to face, because that doesn't feel half as satisfying when she's just snarling it to a blank bit of machinery. ]
What the fuck happened to you being on my side? You said it'd be us to the fucking end.
Why the fuck would you want to?
[ Usually Jack can calm her down, the operative word here being usually. Most of the time. Maybe not immediately, maybe not in a way that's immediately obvious, but where nobody else can get through to her, Jack can. ]
What use is he to us, Jack? Why's it fucking matter whether it's smoothed over or not? He's been no fucking help to us so far. Nobody has.
[ Usually Jack can calm her down, the operative word here being usually. Most of the time. Maybe not immediately, maybe not in a way that's immediately obvious, but where nobody else can get through to her, Jack can. ]
What use is he to us, Jack? Why's it fucking matter whether it's smoothed over or not? He's been no fucking help to us so far. Nobody has.
Oh, and you think he would've just got into fucking bed with us, do you? [ She's sneering now, definitely, lip curled, and if he was right in front of her she'd be giving him the same furious, indignant face she's giving her phone. ] You're talking like I ruined some fucking alliance with him that was all set in place. I didn't.
Fuck you.
[ She's already said it, but it bears repeating. If she was in her right mind she'd have ended this conversation already, cut him off halfway through a sentence and gone off to sulk somewhere, and maybe that's why she's still here. She's not in her right fucking mind, and the worst part is that she can feel it; she knows, at least some small part of her knows, that there's something pushing her in this direction, but she's completely helpless to stop it.
It's such an unpleasant feeling that it's a whole lot easier for her to just ignore it, to pretend that this is the way she'd be acting if she had a clear head. She doesn't want to think about what it says about her. Best to just ignore it. ]
I'm not stupid, Jack. Don't talk to me like I am.
[ She's already said it, but it bears repeating. If she was in her right mind she'd have ended this conversation already, cut him off halfway through a sentence and gone off to sulk somewhere, and maybe that's why she's still here. She's not in her right fucking mind, and the worst part is that she can feel it; she knows, at least some small part of her knows, that there's something pushing her in this direction, but she's completely helpless to stop it.
It's such an unpleasant feeling that it's a whole lot easier for her to just ignore it, to pretend that this is the way she'd be acting if she had a clear head. She doesn't want to think about what it says about her. Best to just ignore it. ]
I'm not stupid, Jack. Don't talk to me like I am.
The night before Christmas, there will be a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine left outside the door to Jack's apartment. Inside, a carved wooden ship's wheel, small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. It's not perfect, perhaps the work of someone who's still learning woodworking, but it is intricate and ambitious.
There is no card.
There is no card.

Page 1 of 62