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Chuck was there, but in that moment-- every moment that seemed worth remembering, Laura could've cared less whether he was or not. That night, she felt a scream building up in the back of her throat. She felt her skin crawling, a restlessness building in the deepest part of her, directionless and cold and impossible to soothe.
She wanted him gone. A vindictive, nasty part of her wished for him to vanish. That, she thought, might've been a relief. If he was gone, she wouldn't have to talk to him, wouldn't have to fess up to him, wouldn't have to fess up to herself that something was very, very wrong.
She wouldn't have to admit that she loved him, desperately, and that it seemed unfathomable that he might love her back. And if he did, didn't that mean there was something irrevocably damaged in him? Wouldn't they simply ruin one another: these two pathetic, broken people?
The only respite had been the music. She allowed herself to drift, to simply feel pleasure and sadness and hope, all wrapped up in the sound of Beth Greene's voice. She fell in love, a little, but once it was over, it turned off like a switch, the pure joy of it gone as if it never existed.
Turning away from the stage, she ordered another drinking, going through the motions of flirting with the bartender, even though she could feel Chuck's eyes on her.
With her beer in hand, she slipped away into the crowd, nearly bumping into Eponine through chance alone.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said, the words rolling off her tongue, low and sultry. She smiled a smile so wide that most wouldn't have noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.
She wanted him gone. A vindictive, nasty part of her wished for him to vanish. That, she thought, might've been a relief. If he was gone, she wouldn't have to talk to him, wouldn't have to fess up to him, wouldn't have to fess up to herself that something was very, very wrong.
She wouldn't have to admit that she loved him, desperately, and that it seemed unfathomable that he might love her back. And if he did, didn't that mean there was something irrevocably damaged in him? Wouldn't they simply ruin one another: these two pathetic, broken people?
The only respite had been the music. She allowed herself to drift, to simply feel pleasure and sadness and hope, all wrapped up in the sound of Beth Greene's voice. She fell in love, a little, but once it was over, it turned off like a switch, the pure joy of it gone as if it never existed.
Turning away from the stage, she ordered another drinking, going through the motions of flirting with the bartender, even though she could feel Chuck's eyes on her.
With her beer in hand, she slipped away into the crowd, nearly bumping into Eponine through chance alone.
"Fancy meeting you here," she said, the words rolling off her tongue, low and sultry. She smiled a smile so wide that most wouldn't have noticed that it didn't reach her eyes.
