{ If you thought the little lark wouldn’t notice that you are hiding something, then you are entirely wrong. When there is something worth worrying about she is more hawk than lark.
It had been a long, tiring day and everyone seemed about ready to go home. Cosette, however, had one more thing to do before could call it a day. Grantaire had limped terribly, well, perhaps not terribly rather a little, but it had been enough to make her worry. She knew him. Grantaire wouldn’t tell anyone if he was hurting just the slightest.
In a haste she had packed her bag, but her eyes never left him; for if they did, he was surely gone before she could have a count on three. Fortune was with her, for she managed to get done before Grantaire left his spot.
❝ —-Remi! Please wait up! ❞
She is unused to hearing the sound of her, otherwise tiny, voice so booming, but it happened from time to time when there when only a few people lingered by the skating rink. With no sound of skates gliding across the ice nor any talking things went awfully quiet. There was only the sound of her own voice.
As soon as she reached him, she laid a hand upon his turned back - ensuring herself that he would not run away. ❝ Can you spare me a few moments? I want to ask you about something. It’s important! ❞ }
[There were times in life that one had to--readjust. You had to reconsider reality, what you thought your life would be versus what it actually was. A certain push comes to shove and eventually you just had to account for it, find a way to make a balance- to make it work. Or to at least fake it well enough that nobody knew you were full of shit.
That's just Remi's life now. Realities.
Time is measured out in little white pills of Oxy shaken from an orange prescription bottle. There's a chance that the label doesn't bear his name. The doctor won't renew it any longer-- but he still h u r t s.
He's been scanned and poked- prodded and examined by Doctors and all sorts of Sport medicine professionals. There is nothing wrong with his knee- except perhaps some slight weakness.
There's nothing wrong.
But then- why does it hurt so much?
It's like his mind playing tricks on him, or the ghost of an injury that was supposed to end his career. Maybe it should, maybe he should go home and be a 20-something, cultivate all the bad habits he's never had time to make while he was too busy skating.
Maybe it'd be wiser- to go home and be a Barista or a Painter or a Porn Star. Anything other than keep pouring himself mind and body into a sport an a dream that's never going to love him back.
Skating is what he knows though, and he doesn't think it's such a crime to want to do something you're good at.
It's not like anybody can prove that he thinks he deserves the punishment- the pain. (Of course, Remi has never made to lie about being screwed up.)
On the ice everything is simple, there is only you and your body, the chill air, the scratch scratch of ice. (If he listened he'd hear more of his coach telling him to tighten up, that he needs more speed on the entrance to his Lutz. Then again- he's never been good at listening.)
Nobody notices though, the slight hesitance when he walks, the tense set of his face, the hidden wince when he lands a big jump.
His hair is sweaty despite the cold when he gets off the ice, but it's always like that. Your body isn't sure if it's hot or cold at a certain point, eventually you get used to the feeling of goosebumps. The weight off his legs is an even bigger relief and he takes his time- methodical as he undoes and loosens the laces of his skates.
Remi isn't a man who keeps many processes, or rituals. Rituals are only comforting to the dull mind, the man who lets himself be fooled by the bare illusions of control.
Still the familiarity is a comfort- though he jumps even at the gentle touch of Cosette's hand on his shoulder. His muscles are tense, nervous a moment before he sloughs it off- like a serpent shedding it's skin.
He tips his head back, teasing smile firmly in place, smiles at her- even upside down with the angle she's lovely.]
For you--
Always time, darling.
[He's good at lying, hiding. Remi covers pain like a natural reflex.]
Finally realized I'm irresistible, right?
