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h e n r y ([info]fictitious) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2013-03-29 18:41:00


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Entry tags:delilah spinnet, elizabeth fortescue, group, henry wadcock, ian bell, kendall broadmoor, miles lufkin, mirabelle jasper, rian kettleburn, richard house, rose knightley, rupert brookstanton, scarlett rabnott

Charity Dinner! Open to All! For Saturday!



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He stared at his reflection in the back of the bar area, his face refracted by the different panes of glass. Henry had long left his assigned seat at a table full of some of the highest donors of the night. They had found it to be such an honor that he was seated with them, that to be dining beside someone who must be so strong to go through this travesty was something to brag about. Henry had silently and barely acknowledged them, allowing their obsession with themselves and their egos to draw the conversation away from him.

The empty glass cracked loudly against the counter of the bar as he finished the drink. Henry could feel himself starting to feel slow and sluggish, but if he was forced to be here then he was going to do it on his own terms. If that meant getting so pissed that he slept under the bar for the rest of the night, then so be it.

Someone slipped onto the stool beside him, but seeing as there was no one that Henry wished to speak to tonight, he dropped his gaze back to his empty glass and tapped the side so that it could magically fill up once more.


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[info]brickhouse
2013-04-09 09:40 pm UTC (link)
Rich let out a slow, soft breath that wasn't quite a sigh. He knew he wasn't going to be able to get through to her, not tonight when she was in this state of mind. Maybe he'd get a chance again to try to do right by her, and maybe he wouldn't, but he couldn't let her go without getting a few words in for her to think about.

"If you're going to go, you're going to go. I won't try to stop you because you are your own person and no one should be making those decisions but you," Rich began quietly. He watched her face, though he eyes were downcast. "Honestly, I think you would be better off if you didn't go at this alone. I think you should have someone there to support you -- not necessarily to always say 'it's okay' but to be there so you're never feel alone no matter the choices you make."

Then Rich did sigh before cautiously reaching out to take one of her hands and hold it between his. "You're brilliant, Delilah. You're brilliant and people want things from you for that reason." He pressed his lips together and shrugged slightly. "I think you're upset because you're expecting me to be as demanding as the rest," he frowned, "but I'm not like that, Delilah. I'm not going to demand anything from you. I'm going to hope and I'm going wait, and maybe that's what threw you off course -- the patience."

Giving her fingers a squeeze, Rich tried to duck and twist to get a look at her eyes when he whispered, "Maybe one day, you'll see that it's not such a bad thing to have your world change."

Letting go and stepping back, Rich breathed tightly because it really did hurt to have her saying she wanted to leave and that she didn't want him, regardless of whose fault it was. She wasn't going to come to him for comfort anymore and he kind of wanted to cry.

"Take care and don't be so hard on yourself," Rich told her as he shoved his hands in his pockets and started to turn. He didn't want her to have to feel like she was leaving him stranded. "You're only human, you know?" he finished with a weak smile before starting to walk, each step feeling like he might crumple, but willing himself not to look back. She didn't need to see how wounded he was. That just wouldn't be fair.

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