(no subject)
Nov. 12th, 2003 01:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nanowrenletBeing good was a lot harder than it sounded. Justin had decided he should stay off of Liberty Avenue completely until Monday, until it was time, but the pull of it was like an itching under his skin and it made him irritable as hell. He covered as best he could around the other reapers, but that just made him even -more- touchy around anyone else and when Gray accused him of 'queening out' over the state of the drink station Saturday afternoon, Justin had been about ready to just tear his head clean off. Knox had plied Justin with spare cigarettes and even offered to blow him in the employee restroom if it would help to calm him down, and that just made him feel even more guilty because it wasn't Knox's fault or Gray's fault or anyone else's, and Justin couldn't even tell them what was wrong. He begged off of Charlie's that night, and watched Eric climb into Knox's car with a fluttery feeling in his gut that was telling him if he wasn't careful, he could so easily fuck up all of his lives at once.
Justin wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Rube not suspect what he was up to. He didn't kid himself, he was certain like he was certain of death itself that Rube would know that Justin had broken the rules again almost as soon as he did it, but he worried that Rube would try to stop him beforehand and he wasn't sure if he could deal with that. Not that Justin -could- be stopped; he was going to see Brian, rules or no rules, but if he didn't actually have to go -through- Rube to do it.... That same fluttery feeling whispered that his life could be a very lonely place if Rube never spoke to him again.
Or maybe, Justin thought, he just was hoping that if he was extra-special-good before his great big screw up, Rube might be less mad at him in the end. Yeah. That logic hadn't worked on Santa Claus when he was a kid, either.
So Sunday was eggshell day. He apologized to Gray, and was a little surprised at how easily the other man shrugged it off. He was more surprised when Eric approached him on a smoke break and asked if he was alright, and whether he and Knox had been fighting. Justin tried -- again -- to convince Eric that he and Knox weren't really dating or anything, and started to suspect Eric might have crush on Justin's erstwhile lover. And as for Knox, his personal apology would have to wait. He'd had to take off work until Tuesday, something sort of family thing, so Justin settled for apologizing to his answering machine and promising to catch up with him when he got back. It still sucked that he couldn't really tell Knox anything.
Justin spent Sunday night sprawled on his mattress with sketches spread across every conceivable surface of his apartment. There were an awful lot of them, from his life both before his death and after, and Justin figured soon the portfolios he'd bought wouldn't be enough any more, and he should maybe consider some sort of filing system. He sorted the sketches into piles, re-sorted and then sorted them again, spending hours with them before he finally tucked most of the pages away and went to sleep.
By Monday morning, Justin's mood had settled to a sort of eerie calm.
[584/584/22464]
Justin wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Rube not suspect what he was up to. He didn't kid himself, he was certain like he was certain of death itself that Rube would know that Justin had broken the rules again almost as soon as he did it, but he worried that Rube would try to stop him beforehand and he wasn't sure if he could deal with that. Not that Justin -could- be stopped; he was going to see Brian, rules or no rules, but if he didn't actually have to go -through- Rube to do it.... That same fluttery feeling whispered that his life could be a very lonely place if Rube never spoke to him again.
Or maybe, Justin thought, he just was hoping that if he was extra-special-good before his great big screw up, Rube might be less mad at him in the end. Yeah. That logic hadn't worked on Santa Claus when he was a kid, either.
So Sunday was eggshell day. He apologized to Gray, and was a little surprised at how easily the other man shrugged it off. He was more surprised when Eric approached him on a smoke break and asked if he was alright, and whether he and Knox had been fighting. Justin tried -- again -- to convince Eric that he and Knox weren't really dating or anything, and started to suspect Eric might have crush on Justin's erstwhile lover. And as for Knox, his personal apology would have to wait. He'd had to take off work until Tuesday, something sort of family thing, so Justin settled for apologizing to his answering machine and promising to catch up with him when he got back. It still sucked that he couldn't really tell Knox anything.
Justin spent Sunday night sprawled on his mattress with sketches spread across every conceivable surface of his apartment. There were an awful lot of them, from his life both before his death and after, and Justin figured soon the portfolios he'd bought wouldn't be enough any more, and he should maybe consider some sort of filing system. He sorted the sketches into piles, re-sorted and then sorted them again, spending hours with them before he finally tucked most of the pages away and went to sleep.
By Monday morning, Justin's mood had settled to a sort of eerie calm.
[584/584/22464]
