#countsfear

[seduttora]

@countsfear

                    ❝   𝙅𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨   𝘾𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩   ,   𝙇𝙪𝙠𝙚   ,   𝙮𝙤𝙪   𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠   𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚   𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜   𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩   ,   ❞   Is   the   first   thing   that   comes   out   of   her   mouth   when   her   brain’s   registered   what   had   drawn   her   up   from   her   slumber   so   late   in   the   night.   The   knocks   on   her   door   were   anything   but   gentle   ,   a   stark   contrast   to   the   worn   face   that   greeted   her   when   she   answered.   Icy   eyes   squint   in   an   attempt   to   make   out   whether   he’s   sober   or   not.   Not   as   though   she   would   turn   him   away   ,   but   rather   to   figure   out   if   it   warranted   a   minor   lecture.   Not   a   Shirley   –   lecture.   A   Shirley   sermon   is   what   she   used   to   call   it   as   a   kid   ,   drove   her   sister   insane.   if   he   had   wanted   that   ,   he’d   have   gone   to   the   house   only   a   few   feet   away.   He   was   smart   to   have   come   to   her   as   she   leaves   her   door   agape   and   walks   back   in   :   a   silent   gesture   that   he’s   welcome   to   stay.

❝   You   okay   ?   ❞   It’s   less   concern   and   more   demanding   ,   she’s   looking   for   answers.   What   made   him   wake   her   up   on   a   Wednesday   night   when   a   good   night’s   sleep   was   already   such   a   rarity   for   their   family   ?   ❝   Coffee   ?   ❞   She’s   already   making   herself   a   cup   ,   God   knows   she’ll   need   it   if   she’s   going   to   tackle   whatever   he   was   about   to   throw   at   her.   ❝   I   have   some   tea   too   ,   but   only   green.   Might   have   hot   chocolate   somewhere   ,   no   marshmallows   though.   ❞  

[henstrdge]

                 “     it’s    okay,     I     don’t     like     talking     about     my     family     either,     ”     sardonic     snort     echoes     past    her     lips,     before     she     brings     the     cigarette    back          to     her     parted     mouth,     and     for   a     moment,     she     remains     silent,     as     if     the   joke     were     obvious     (     you     can’t     ever    hide     from     the     world     that     you’re     a     Henstridge     )     before     finally     adding,     “    you     should     see     the     interviews     I     have     with     the     bbc.     they’re     a     fucking     blast.     ”   (  @countsfear​  )

[henstrdge]

“  i tried my best.  ”    (  @countsfear​  )

            “     and    it     wasn’t     enough     –     boo     hoo.     join     the     club,     hotshot.     ”

              there’s    not     bitterness     in     her     voice     as     much     as     there     is     a     nonchalant     acceptance     of    her     own     words     (     perhaps     she’s     just    half     too     drunk     to     properly     display     any     signs     of     being     upset     ).     they     don’t     know     each     other,     barely     two     strangers     sharing    troubles     at     a     pub     –     the     most     pathetic     of     pictures     to     display     on     a     Saturday     night.     Truth     of     the     matter     is,     this     is     the     only     place     left     in     London     the     paparazzi     haven’t     found     her     at,     and     thus,     Eleanor     takes     advantage     of     the     anonymity     that     the     drunken,     poorly     lit     atmosphere     of     the     place     offers     her.     However,   misery     loves     company,     and     soon,     the     few   exchanged     courtesies     between     her     and     the     man    sitting     beside     her     on     the     bar     becomes     a     full     conversation     –     as     much     as     it     can     be     called     one,     at     least.

                        “     y’know,    my     mum     used     to     say     that     if     you     can’t     do     your     best     and     actually     succeed,    then     it     doesn’t     even     matter.     you    still    failed.     ”     Helena     is     a     brutal     teacher     (     most    of     the     things     she’s     taught     her     children    have     done     nothing     but     fuel     their     addictions     and     their     low     sense     of     self     worth     ),     but     Eleanor     cannot     say     she     didn’t     use     to     take     those     teachings     to     heart     –     hence,     perhaps,     the     reason     why    they     still     get     to     her.     Hence,     perhaps,     the     reason     why     she’s     drinking     tonight.     And     she     offers     a     sardonic     curve   of     her     lips,     a     cynical     smirk     (     they    come     off     naturally     to     her     by     now     ),    twirls     her     glass     of     scotch     and     downs     its     contents     in     one     go.

                    The    burnt     sensation     down     her     throat     is     numbed    by     the     amount     of     alcohol     she’s     consumed    already     –     it’s     an     endless,     vicious     cycle.

             “     god,    that     actually     sounded     worse     said     out     loud    –     fucking     sad.     ”     she     chuckles     (   it’s     full     –     blown     bitter     now,     no     attempt     at     concealing     it     any     longer     ),   “     i’m     usually     way     more     fun     than     this    when     i’m     drunk.     usually,     i’m     half     naked     and     dancing     on     tables     too.     ”

[wascrownd]

i’m not lying. ( if you want/don’t mind! )

           ❝     SORRY     ,     I     ---     I     DIDN'T     MEAN     —     I'm     just     jumpy,     okay?     ❞     Voice     is     low     as     hands     come     up     &     pull     awkwardly     at     the     scarf     around     her     neck.     The     scarf     that     hid     the     recent     horrors     she'd     been     through.     The     horrors     that     she's     not     so     sure     that     she     escaped.     A     gulp     before.     ❝     Look,     I     just...     I'm     hiding     from     someone.     Someone     I     thought     I     could     trust,     &     now...     I     don't     know     who     I'm     supposed     to     trust.     ❞

@countsfear​.

[tragaedy]

@countsfear​ liked the starter call.

they’ve   done   investigations   all   over   the   world   ,   met   people   and   families   that   were   tortured   by   things   from   the   other   side.   it   wasn’t   exactly   abnormal   for   children   to   be   involved   with   things   like   this.   they   tended   to   be   more   sensitive   ,   to   have   a   stronger   sense   of   those   things.   having   a   child   of   her   own   ,   lorraine   is   quite   comfortable   talking   to   them.   she   seats   herself   across   from   the   boy   on   the   small   wooden   chair   ,   leaning   forward   so   that   she’d   be   at   eye   level   ,   her   elbows   perched   on   her   knees.      ʺ     hi   luke.      ʺ     she   says   softly   ,   glancing   at   the   toys   he   was   playing   with   ,   ʺ     your   mom   and   dad   asked   me   to   come   over.      do   you   think   maybe   you   could   tell   me   about   some   of   the   stuff   you’ve   seen   in   in   the   house ?    ʺ

[tragaedy]

@countsfear​ said   ‘  who  …   are  you  ?   ’

she  doesn’t  seem  the  least  bit  alarmed  ,  almost  as  though  she  had  been  expecting  this  ,  that  she  had  felt  his  presence  long  before  hearing  his  voice.  lorraine’s  bright  blue  eyes  move  around  the  room.  she’d  heard  stories  of  this  house.  difficult  to  do  what  she  did  and  not  hear  about  the  phenomenon  of  hill  house.  she  didn’t  read  the  book  ,  didn’t  care  to  hear  someone  else’s  stories  when  she  could  investigate  on  her  own.  hands  remain  folded  before  her  ,  as  non  -  threatening  as  she  could  manage.  this  was  about  helping  them    ,    not  scaring  them  off.      ʺ    i’m  lorraine.    ʺ    she  says  softly  ,  ʺ    who  are  you  ?    ʺ