On the Fifth Day of Christmas
Dec. 29th, 2005 11:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
franceslievensPrevious parts
For God's sake, he had shoved his foot in between the door. Who'd have thought people actually do that when you try to slam the door shut in their face? When she had opened the door for a police detective she hadn't known she was opening it for that creep who had smiled at her two days ago at the station. From up close he was even more repulsive: eyes sunken into his massive fat face, from the few strands of hair left on his head thick drops of sweat fell down on his cheeks and the ground, and every sentence he uttered got followed by a grimace in between a forced smile and the will to cry out in pain.
“Please miss Saunders,” grimaced the fat guy, “I just need to ask some questions.”
“You weren't able to show me any identification. Why should I bother?” With all her might she tried to close the door again, but Gavarni was leaning against it. She had to fight against his full body weight. Practically exhausted she stepped aside. The door swung open and Gavarni tumbled into her small hall. There he lay on the floor, crying out in pain and not able to get up again.
“Bugger...”
Gavarni's grimace changed into a smirk: “Bloody hell would be more appropriate. I don't think I will be getting up that quick.”
He was sitting on her couch now, as comfortable as possible. He had been sitting there for the last half an hour, after the three quarters he spent on the floor. She had simply ignored him. Not being able to throw him out, she had decided to wait till he would be gone all by himself. She sat in the chair opposite him, sipping her coffee. With great interest she took him up: his fat face with the strangely expressive eyes. She hadn't noticed that when he was still standing outside, trying to get in, which brought her to remembering the silly predicament he literaly fell into when she did open the door.
“Oh, how full of contempt is that look.”
It was stronger than herself. She had to answer: “My Wednesday-lover tells me the very same thing.”
Gavarni's eyebrows arched up. “No wonder you were walking alone through the city on Christmas day.”
“If my Sunday-lover wishes to spend time with his family that's what happens, yes.”
The fat guy nodded, stayed silent for a bit and then asked the question he needed answering: “Where exactly did you give that necklace away?”
“At the corner of Canal and St.-George Street.”
“Thanks.” Gavarni tried to get up, but had to let himself fall into the couch again. She smiled at him. He noticed she had a nice smile. “Seems I'm stuck here, miss Saunders. Mister Thursday isn't coming this evening, is he?”
“No,” she said. “Thursday is dvd-night.” She laughed at her own stupid remark.
“Then I won't keep you any longer from whatever you're going to watch.” He came unsteadily to his feet and limped towards the door. “Well, miss Saunders, sorry for lieing on your carpet for so long. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Actually I didn't mind so much.” There was that smile again. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” And Gavarni closed the door behind him.
For God's sake, he had shoved his foot in between the door. Who'd have thought people actually do that when you try to slam the door shut in their face? When she had opened the door for a police detective she hadn't known she was opening it for that creep who had smiled at her two days ago at the station. From up close he was even more repulsive: eyes sunken into his massive fat face, from the few strands of hair left on his head thick drops of sweat fell down on his cheeks and the ground, and every sentence he uttered got followed by a grimace in between a forced smile and the will to cry out in pain.
“Please miss Saunders,” grimaced the fat guy, “I just need to ask some questions.”
“You weren't able to show me any identification. Why should I bother?” With all her might she tried to close the door again, but Gavarni was leaning against it. She had to fight against his full body weight. Practically exhausted she stepped aside. The door swung open and Gavarni tumbled into her small hall. There he lay on the floor, crying out in pain and not able to get up again.
“Bugger...”
Gavarni's grimace changed into a smirk: “Bloody hell would be more appropriate. I don't think I will be getting up that quick.”
He was sitting on her couch now, as comfortable as possible. He had been sitting there for the last half an hour, after the three quarters he spent on the floor. She had simply ignored him. Not being able to throw him out, she had decided to wait till he would be gone all by himself. She sat in the chair opposite him, sipping her coffee. With great interest she took him up: his fat face with the strangely expressive eyes. She hadn't noticed that when he was still standing outside, trying to get in, which brought her to remembering the silly predicament he literaly fell into when she did open the door.
“Oh, how full of contempt is that look.”
It was stronger than herself. She had to answer: “My Wednesday-lover tells me the very same thing.”
Gavarni's eyebrows arched up. “No wonder you were walking alone through the city on Christmas day.”
“If my Sunday-lover wishes to spend time with his family that's what happens, yes.”
The fat guy nodded, stayed silent for a bit and then asked the question he needed answering: “Where exactly did you give that necklace away?”
“At the corner of Canal and St.-George Street.”
“Thanks.” Gavarni tried to get up, but had to let himself fall into the couch again. She smiled at him. He noticed she had a nice smile. “Seems I'm stuck here, miss Saunders. Mister Thursday isn't coming this evening, is he?”
“No,” she said. “Thursday is dvd-night.” She laughed at her own stupid remark.
“Then I won't keep you any longer from whatever you're going to watch.” He came unsteadily to his feet and limped towards the door. “Well, miss Saunders, sorry for lieing on your carpet for so long. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Actually I didn't mind so much.” There was that smile again. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” And Gavarni closed the door behind him.
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no subject
Date: 2005-12-29 03:37 pm (UTC)Is she flirting with him now?
no subject
Date: 2005-12-30 01:45 am (UTC)No, she's only started to feel a bit of sympathy for him. Probably it's written a bit too flirty. That's what happens when you write things in an hour or so. ;-)
Gavarni does have that vibe with people though. He makes them like him -- if he's up to it.