Path of the Vampire forum

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

This RP takes place on Wednesday 1st April 2015.

Ric:
I roll over and the first thing I touch is a body. My head is pounding. I feel like someone curb stomped my skull in last night and can't think of why there's a body waking up next to me. I don't bring anyone dead or alive with me to my cave. It's an unwritten rule, really. I attempt to sit up, but as I do this, I lose my balance and find my back again on a pretty soft surface. I move both hands to my head to see what injuries I've sustained, but can't find a single one. Or at least, I can't feel any blood coming from anywhere. But this isn't the first time I've felt this way. I groan and roll to my side and let my eyes focus in the dark. It doesn't take long, since I am a night dweller, but something is very wrong. I see walls. Not a gravel surface. And the body is identified as Skylar's right away. I can tell. It smells like her. The hair length is the same as hers, and her frame is the same. My eyes move away from her, to what it is we are lying on and that's not hard to tell either. We're in a bed. The bed she bought. Our bed, I guess you could say. Since it's in our apartment, in our bedroom. I groan and roll over to the other side. Something isn't right. Is it the same night as last night? I push off the bed and sit up, grab my phone off the bed side table and that's when I notice it. Right after the phone lights up. A ring. On my left hand. On my ring finger. I don't move. I don't say anything. I just sit and stare at it. Then, I crane my neck, bring the phone over to her body and check her hands. ****. I nearly jump out of the bed, while yanking the damn thing off my finger, the phone lost somewhere in the bed.

Skylar:
I feel movement in the bed before I open my eyes. I should be alarmed as I always wake alone but then my mind isn’t exactly working just yet. So, first things first… open my eyes. With my eyes open I find I’m staring into the room; nothing new there. I sit up, stretch my arms and am about to swing my legs out of the bed when I realise there’s light in the room. But more than that, there’s someone in the room. Ric’s here. I scoop up his phone and blink as I look at the time.
“You made it home in record time. Am I late getting up?”
I don’t have a hangover. The alcohol is out of my system but parts of the night are fuzzy and others are completely blank. I don’t try thinking too much – not yet – it’s not all that important and Ric being here is a little distracting.

Ric:
"No." I say after shaking my head and hiding my hands behind my back. I hide this by walking a few steps back and leaning against the wall. "I woke up here." I say. "I don't know how it happened either. But my head is pounding again. Like after the Altaire thing. With Aliyah and Calix and all them." I close my eyes and count to ten, hoping that will help. I even take a breath in and fill my lungs. Anything to make me feel better. "Did I get in a fight last night?"

Skylar:
I stare at him when he says he woke up here. That’s new. He never wakes up at him. He told me he’d tried everything to stop that happening so I have no idea what’s up with that. Why now? And why does he have my hangover? Or my non-hangover? That makes no sense. Whatever.
“I dunno. But wow.”
I climb over and off the bed and run over to him. I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly before kissing him twice.
“This is good right? You waking up here. I mean… Maybe… It’s never happened before. Only now it has.”
I hug him again.
“Good mor- evening babe.”
I’m ignoring his symptoms and the fight question for a moment, because him waking up in our bed is huge. I kinda like it; though I’d of liked it more if he wasn’t already trying to get away from me.

Ric:
She hugs me and I can tell she's excited. Only, I'm not. Waking up in the same place for months on end and then not doing it doesn't make sense to me. "No." I say. "I don't know. Something isn't right." I say as my right hand goes to my head and massages my temple. "It would be good, if I knew how it happened and how I came to get this massive headache. I do not get headaches. Except that one time." I push off the wall and wobble. Just a little bit. I wouldn't fall, because Skylar has a hold of me, even if I was a little wobbly tonight.

Skylar:
“What do you mean no?”
I want to backhand him or elbow him or something but he’s kinda leaning on me for support.
“You sure you can’t get drunk? Cos this isn’t the first time you’ve basically complained of having a hangover. I mean. It sounds like one to me. Only it’s kinda funny. Cos you don’t drink. I do. And I don’t get them anymore. Not since I died. Not that I got them all that often before. But you know what I mean.”
I think about it for a moment and start to replay a few thing from the night before. I was out with the guys. Again. Only we were celebrating Ric and mine’s relationship. Five months is a long time for me, the longest yet in fact. Though it’s probably a bit weird celebrating something like that with friends and not the guy you’re dating. Russ said it’s a sign of me growing up or something. I think I punched him in the arm. Though that’s not important. Drinking. I drank. I got off my face and I called Ric? Did he pick me up or did he summon me? I don’t remember. But I do remember him biting me. I shiver with excitement as I remember that. Mmm.
“Ricky? You think you can get drunk by proxy? I mean you can’t drink or nothing but you do drink from me. My blood alcohol level has to be pretty high at times. Is that possible you think?”
I start running my right hand through my hair, combing it down cos I must look pretty ******* shocking. I still haven’t noticed the band on my left hand, though there is something trying to come through haze.

Ric:
I sigh. She's doing that girl thing again. "Fine it's good. But how did it happen? That's the problem. I tried everything." I remind her. "Something happened last night. Something that messed with the routine." I liked routine. Even if waking up in a cave wasn't the most thrilling thing ever. Routine made me comfortable. I see the ring on her hand, and she hasn't said anything about it. I slip my ring off and ball it up in my hands before stepping away from her. "By proxy?" Is that possible? I've never had a hangover before. Or, one that I was aware of. "I don't know." I say before going in my dresser drawer and pulling out a shirt. The ring falls in to the drawer, on the pile of shirts in the drawer.

Skylar:
He moves away from me and I’m left wondering why he’s not as thrilled about this as I am. He didn’t want to wake up in that place night after night, he told me as much when he said he’d tried everything not to wake up there.
I walk over to him and stand behind him, placing both hands on his shoulder before I kiss him between the shoulder blades. I pull my hands back and am about to run my hand up into his hair when I notice the band on my finger.
“Good question. What the **** happened last night?”
I pull away from him and rush over to the light switch. I flick the thing on and wince at the sudden brightness and then stare at the gold band on my left ring finger.
“What the **** is this?”
I’m asking him and my accusatory tone says as much as I hold my hand up for him to see and point to the ring.

Ric:
She's behind me and I stay at the dresser. I close my eyes as she kisses my skin, trying to think. I remember biting Skylar, like most nights. I remember leaving the apartment after that. I remember a building. I've seen it before in the city, but not really paid it any attention. And that's about it for now. I open my eyes as she asked what happened, in a tone. I hear it. She moves away and I turn to look at her and then shrug. I know what it is and so should she. Anyone does, really. How it got there though, I haven't the foggiest. "It looks like a ring." I say. There's no tone in my voice. I just say it as a matter of fact.

Skylar:
“No **** Sherlock!”
I’m yelling at him but I probably shouldn’t be. I mean for one, he’s got a headache and for two, if this is what I think it is… then I’m complicit in this whole thing.
I stare at the ring and force myself to focus. The memories are there. Maybe? Or parts of them at least. That’s when it hits me…

• We’re at the I do’s. Only I don’t say I do. I say.
  “You ******* bet I do.”
  I’m looking at him like one of those love struck brides I’ve never understood and I know I’m doing it because I can feel it. I’m happy. Like deliriously happy.

I shudder and sink to the floor, my eyes fixed on the glinting band metal. Why the **** did we get married? But more importantly, why the hell was I so happy about it?
“Oh god… ****…”
I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the band that shouldn’t be there. A band that for some reason I hadn’t even tried to remove.

Ric:
"You asked." I say as a hand goes to my head, still keeping distance from her. This is her fault. Whatever this is. I told her we were never getting married. So somehow, this is her fault. I put on the shirt I grabbed from the dresser drawer. I take my time. I actually keep my head in the shirt longer than I need to. We're inside a building. At a desk? Office? No, it's like a window and a desk in one. And the person behind it, some lady is asking for cash. Two hundred bucks and our information. Personal information. They have our personal information. They have MY personal information. Because of her. My head pops through the head hole and I stare at her. No, I'm glaring at her. "Don't oh god, **** me. You did this." My left hand goes to rest on the back of my neck and it rubs at it.

Skylar:
I look up him from the floor. I had to sit down. I couldn’t trust my feet to be beneath me right now.
“Me?”
I’m clearly in shock. I can barely say the word let alone get angry at the accusation. I’d been happy to say I do. Me. Me! I was happy. And now here I was…
I look back down at the ring. How did it get there? I mean. I know why it’s there. I know technically how it got there, but how in the world did the topic of marriage come up? Why in the world would both willingly agree to this? Wait. Willingly. Had Ric done it willingly? Did I have a new power? **** that. Did he have a new power? Did I do it willingly?
I blink at the band. I can stare at it as much as I like and the damn thing is still there.
I try to recall the I do’s again. Clearly we’d both agreed. Did I give him a ring? Is he wearing a ring? Did he agree? What did he say? Why did I seem so ******* happy? Was I high? Did I smoke something dodgy?
I shake my head. Nope. Can’t blame this one of drugs. Drink maybe but not drugs. Drink and some really deeply buried desire to belong… to him. Why to him? I look up at Ric and all I want to do is cry.

Ric:
She's shaking her head. She doesn't agree that it's her fault. But I know it is. "I said we weren't getting married." I now sound like I'm accusing her. Because I am. I told her from the get go, or, well, after Nix said she was marrying Blake. And I told her why. I damn well told her why and they were damn well good ones. "We can undo this, right? If we were both drunk. Or whatever." I think we could undo it. The ink to any and all signatures couldn't even be dry yet. "We could break in and undo it." That's an even better choice. Less people to deal with. Because I hate people.

Skylar:
I listen to what he says but none of it sinks in. Another memory surfaces and I see myself putting a ring on his finger. Only he’s not wearing it now. I focus on his left hand. I know I put a ring there. I’ll be fucked if I know where the thing came from but it was there. Or it had been there.
“Where’s your ring?”
It’s a stupid question to ask, only it’s not; I want to know. No. I need to know. Why have I woken up with a ring and he hasn’t.

Ric:
I look down at my hand and then shrug. "Maybe it got lost. Or you married someone else." I say as I move away from the dresser. I'm half naked, but I don't think it matters anymore. The getting dressed part. "I can't even remember what happened last night and you expect me to remember where a ring is?" I keep rubbing at the back of my neck, trying to ease the headache I feel and the tension in my neck.

Skylar:
“I gave you a ******* ring.”
I glare at him, returning a look he was likely familiar with since he wore it so often himself.
“My memory may be swiss cheese right now but you agreed to marry me and took the ring I gave you. Just like I agreed and took the ring you gave me.”
I hold up my hand again for emphasis.
“And **** me if I didn’t seem happy with all of this at the time. I didn’t even say I do like a normal ******* person. No. What did I say? I said; you ******* bet I do.”
I lower my hand into my lap but keep my eyes fixed on him. If he’s lying to me I want to know and I half fancy that I might be able to feel it. If I’m lucky.

Ric:
I keep rubbing at the back of my neck as she says these things, because I know it's true. "I was drunk. Apparently." I remind her thinking harder about the night before. Then I remembered. I stabbed some guy for the rings. I offered him cash, he told me to piss off, so I stabbed them and took them. And then we paid the two hundred dollars. Or I did. A lesson learned. Never carry that much cash on me again. But I probably would have stabbed someone else for that two hundred dollars. "You gave me a ring and I gave you one. But we were both drunk. Both. Alcohol makes people do stupid things."

Skylar:
“So where’s your ring?”
I can’t figure out why he keeps rubbing his neck and cant my head slightly to the side. Is that a nervous gesture? Something to do with his headache? And more importantly… Why the **** do I care? I mean, look at what’s going on here.
“Alcohol makes people do silly things. Yeah. I’ll give you that. But it sure as **** doesn’t make you lie. If I said I do. I ******* meant it. Just because I don’t think I could say it right now doesn’t mean ****. Commitment scares the **** out of me.”
I don’t think I’ve admitted that to him before, so unless he’s been reading my diary, this is probably news to him. He probably thinks I’m like every other ******* woman on the planet and that this was all some big manipulative act on my part. It’s not. But he doesn’t know that.
“And yet I’m still wearing the mystery band.”
I want to ask where it’s come from but it’s probably not the right time for that question right now.
“So I’m gonna ask you again Ricky. Where the **** is your ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

Ric:
Skylar is being, well, Skylar. But she's a woman and it's expected. I groan and then move back to the dresser. "Right here." I open the drawer and pull it out, showing her it." I don't say why I'm not wearing it, because she'll do what Skylar does best and freak out at me. I know she can't help it since it's in her genetic make-up, but I don't like it. "It's not a mystery. The band. I gave it to you. We apparently got married. Mystery solved."

Skylar:
“Urgh. I meant where the **** did we get rings from in the first place. I mean it’s not like we planned this. Did we? Did you plan this?”
The moment I say the words I know I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way he planned this, and I certainly didn’t. So where did we get the rings? I’m staring at the band again and then I look back to him.
“How’d it get in the drawer Ricky? And if you say you put it there, so help me god I’ll find a way to ******* end you. Why was your ring in that drawer?”
I point to the rings ‘resting’ location, because a drawer wasn’t a place for it. Drawers were for hiding things. So who was he hiding it from? Him or me?

Ric:
I look at her and shake my head. "You know my stance on marriage. No. I did not plan this. It is almost a ninety-nine percent guarantee that this was not my doing." I assure her, before putting the ring on the top of the dresser. I'm not wearing that thing. "The rings came from a couple. We offered to pay them money for it." I don't add in that I stabbed the guy for them. I wonder if he's dead. Did I stab the woman? I doubt it. Most women will go to the aid of the male once stabbed or run away. She must have done one of those and left us alone. "I put it in there." I say, even at her threat. I doubt she will 'end me.' She doesn't even use any weapons. Or barely does. "It was in there because I put it in there. Because you tricked me in to this. That's the logical explanation. With your crazy ideas about marriage and dressing up dolls and bears and stuff. This was all you." I say flatly.

Skylar:
“What the **** are you talking about?”
I push myself up from the floor, finally finding the strength to stand on my feet again.
“What dolls and bears? And I was with you on the whole ‘we’re never getting married thing.’ I was? ****. Past tense. Why is that past tense?”
My thoughts spill out of my mouth as my filter apparently goes on holiday or something. Not that it was a particularly hard working entity in the first place.

Ric:
I realize my mistake too little too late. But can't take it back now. "The pink and brown one you married off." I say it as if I was there. As if she invited me to the teddy wedding event when she was a kid. "Because we are married. You can't speak past tense when it's past. When you changed your mind and made us get married. It's illogical." I move away from the dresser. "So we doing this? Getting the paper work and ripping it up, throwing it away, burning it, or whatever people do?" I ask because I need to know how I should dress for the night and figure out a course of action.

Skylar:
“I… When… How the **** do you… I never told you…”
I can’t think straight. I know I talk a lot - even more if I’m drunk - but I barely even remember that. Why would I ever tell him about me playing pretend as a child? And when exactly did I lose my passion for marriage? Apparently I did in fact have it once; like most kids do.
“And no. Because that’s stupid. You don’t B&E to get out of a marriage. You get an annulment. And I’m still coming to terms with the I do’s being said. I can’t even begin to think about erasing the whole event. Cos quite ******* clearly, we both agree to this. Drunk or not.”

Ric:
Annulment. I'm okay with this. Skylar should be too since she's anti-marriage. I groan and move back to the dresser to get some boxers on. I stare at the ring. Long and hard. I glare at the damn thing. I hate it. I hate the idea of marriage. I hate being part of a statistic, no matter what side it is. The good fifty percent or the bad. As I'm glaring at the band, I begin to remember more about the night. The woman was asking for witnesses. I offered some random strangers some cash to be those witnesses. A lot of cash. Yep. Never, ever, carrying cash on me again. I make a mental note of this. There is a guy reading something. A judge. He's reading what he's supposed to for a marriage ceremony. Why aren't I leaving? Why are we both not leaving? Why am I stabbing people and shelling out cash like it's nothing? How drunk was I? How drunk was she? I look back at her and sigh. "I can't remember it all, but I'm thirsty. Maybe that will help." I don't tell her what I've learned in the last few months about seeing parts of her past this way. If I did, she wouldn't let me, I'm sure.

Skylar:
“I haven’t eaten yet either Ricky. Way to think with your stomach.”
My anger subsides slightly and I quickly realise why; my damn treacherous body. I’m practically lusting for the guy just at the thought of him sinking his fangs into me.
“Fine whatever.”
I pull my hair back from my neck and as I do another memory comes forward.

• I’m standing before the guy reciting my vows. My vows! Not that ‘till death do you part crap’ cos that ship already sailed and I don’t fancy Ricky using as some sort of loophole.
  “I promise to keep pushing at your boundaries till you admit you ******* love me, and until you actually enjoy having sex with me. No wait. More than that, until you actually want to have sex with me without me asking for it. Or you using it as some sort of weapon to shut me up. Because I know you ******* do that Ricky.”
  I poke him in the chest.
  “Oh and I can promise to do all kinds of kinky **** once you’re comfortable with the whole sex thing. Oh and love you of course. Okay. I think I’m done… Maybe… oh no. I promise to stick around and look after you and stuff, if you do the same for me. Oh and I’ll tell you stuff. Like anything and everything you need to know. No lies or secrets or anything. And now I’m… Nope. No I’m not. I kinda like that you’re an arsehole, so don’t go changing too much. I like my guys with a bit of bite.”
  I start sniggering because that last part is funny to me. I’d promise to let him bite me daily but that’s probably not an option in this place. People might look at us strange. Or stranger. I probably should have sounded my vows out in the toilets beforehand or something.

Ric:
When she gives me the okay, I don't think twice about it. I'm at her side, sinking my fangs in to her neck. As I drink the first memory I get is one I've seen before. One with her brother and some guy that broke her heart. I pull back, interrupting that memory and try again for another one. Hopefully, the right one. The scene starts to play out and I see it from her eyes. Even if she doesn't remember it. It's buried in there. We meet up after she's hanging out with the guys. And she's drunk again. Nothing new there. I feed from her when we're back at the apartment and not long after that, we both start talking stupid. That part is a bit fuzzy, but we're on our feet and off. Tearing across the city to the town hall. Where we meet the judge and when we are asked about the rings, I come up with the brilliant idea to get them by any means possible. I want to get the rings. I had to get the rings. I wanted to get married. Skylar was right. I back away from her and swallow down the rest of her blood.

Skylar:
He’s backing away from me like I just spooked him. I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. At least nothing I can think of.
“What’s wrong? My blood taste funky?”
I turn to look at him. Again I’m wondering why I care. I mean besides the obvious. Weren’t we arguing? He wants to go burn down city hall or something to erase what we did. It’s hardly the nicest thing he could do. I mean sure. It’s like waking up in bed with a hippo of a woman on your arm and wanting to chew your own arm off. It would work, but it’s not exactly the ideal solution for either party. I want to know what happened before he ******* pisses all over it.
“You hoping you might get buzzed again so you can understand your own reasoning? Cos marriage, like a lot of couple activities kinda takes two Ricky.”

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--
Ric:
"Your blood is fine." I say before getting up and moving away from her. I move to the dresser and grab the ring. I hold it up. "I think we made a mistake. Don't you? Getting married while drunk?" I put the thing back down, because even holding it makes me want to get out of the apartment. Makes me want to get away from Skylar. I don't want to be part of a marriage, I told her that. She didn't either. She told me that. Someone was lying. I know it isn't me. I didn't dress teddy bears up and have fake weddings. I stare at her. Hard. "We could get it annulled. That's what you said. Right? An annulment?" I look away from her and focus on the ring. What it stood for, which really wasn't anything. I could tell from first-hand experience. Still, the idea of wearing the thing made me want to vomit in my mouth.

Skylar:
“I don’t even ******* remember why we did it. Or what you promised or nothing. So no. No I don’t want to get it ******* annulled. I want answers. Mistake or not. We did it. I own my mistakes Ricky. And from what little I do remember. It doesn’t feel like a mistake.”
I sigh. He can barely even look at his ring and me, I couldn’t take my eyes off of mine. Apparently I am a proper girl. Who knew? Not ******* me, that’s for sure. But he’s an arse. He’s being an arse. Or maybe I am.
I sit myself down on the bed and begin turning the ring on my finger as I stare down at it.
“How did you know about my teddies? I barely even remember that myself. I haven’t thought about it years. Why would I…”
I let my words trail off. In the grand scheme of things it’s probably not a big deal but I want to understand everything, and that started – and ended – with Ricky and his odd behaviour.

Ric:
"You don't think about it. But you did it." I say. "When I bite you, I get images. I guess. I didn't understand them at first and thought they were part of my past. But they aren't. They're your past. Things you did when you were a kid, or a teenager. Even things you did last night. Like going to the courthouse." I say, looking away from the ring on the dresser.

Skylar:
“What the ****?”
I try to process what he’s telling me. I’ve not even been up an hour and this night is already making me its ***** with the surprises it keeps throwing me. Us.
“So… Every time you bite me you get to peek at my memories? Like get inside my mind?”
I stop fiddling with the ring and fold my arms over my chest. I’m not so much annoyed by his talent, as by the fact I can’t do it in return. ********. Why does he always have the upper hand in our relationship?
“Is that why you’ve been feeding from me more often recently?”

Ric:
"What? No." I glare at her. "I've been feeding from you more because I like feeding from you. How you taste." I add in before going on, "And because, big surprise, I need to feed." I stop glaring and just stare at her. She should know the obvious last bit. "And yeah. I only figured it out a couple weeks ago." I admit. "I've never married teddy bears before, or owned them. So was sure it was your memories." Along with the other random bits of her life. Like her brother.

Skylar:
“I was a kid Ric. Most little girls play with dolls and teddies. Even me. So yeah. Big shock. I wasn’t always who I am now.”
I feel the need to point this out but there’s no sarcastic edge to my words like there should be. Probably because I can’t stop grinning from the fact that he likes to feed from me. I’m sure the first time he fed from me he was pretty dismissive of my blood. I guess it’s what you get used to.
“What else have you seen? No wait. I don’t wanna know. But I do. Maybe just not now. And if you see things and have questions. Ask. Cos… there might be more to what you see. Maybe. I dunno.”
I start rubbing at my temples in an effort to dislodge more information about last night. What had Ric said in his vows? Had he made me go first and then said ‘ditto’ or some ****? Had he actually said something nice to me? Who’s idea was it? Was it mine? It probably was mine. Oh god I hope it’s not.
I close my eyes and sure enough another memory comes flooding back.

• I’m in the bar with the guys. I’m so ******* drunk I’m tripping over my own feet once again and cursing my heels and Ric for making me wear said heels. Not that he’s ever uttered a word about it. It just is his fault. Dillon tries to steal my phone cos I want to go home and he doesn’t want me to leave. So obviously, rather than order him to hand it back, I punch him in the gut. That’ll teach him.
  I text Ricky to pick me up; by which I mean do his thing and summon me. I stumble off and only once I’m alone do I hit send. The guys are pissed but they understand. Ric’s the reason for this impromptu piss up after all.
  I get summoned and explain my current inebriated state. He’s kinda used to all this by now. He feeds on me and I’m just a messy, mushy pile after, cos damn it if I don’t love being fed on by him.
  He makes some comment about the need to drink.
  “Well. We’ve been together five months. Count yourself lucky I’m not marching you down the aisle. Cos according to you, that means marrying time. Right?”
  I tap him on the nose, only, I only think I do, I actually get his cheek.

****. It is my fault.

Ric:
"Yeah, I know you're pretty normal. I've seen it." I remind her before moving away from the ring and her. The bed wasn't safe. Neither was being by the ring. So I propped up against the open door in the bedroom. I sigh and shake my head. "So we're married now? You don’t want to even think about it. Just going to do it because we were drunk and talking stupid?" I keep my eyes on her.

Skylar:
I ignore the normal comment, even though it stings. I hate that word. I hate normal and everything it stands for. I’ve always fought to be me, to be different.
“Yes Ric. We’re married. I think that is a well-established point by now. Don’t you?”
I shouldn’t get snarky at him but I just can’t help myself.
“I don’t give a crap if we were drunk and talking stupid. I remember my ******* vows Ric. I remember what I said and how I felt. That’s enough for me. I may not like commitment. It ******* terrifies me. But it’s done. We obviously wanted to do it.”
I look at him and smile.
“I think I got the worst deal. If you wanna start complaining. I’m great. You… You can be a complete arsehole.”

Ric:
"I don't think we wanted to do it. If we did, we wouldn't have done it while we were drunk. Why not while we were sober?" I tell her, my arms crossing at my chest as I shove off the door. "And yep, I am an asshole. Something you've known for a really long time. I don't hide that fact." I'm glaring at her now and my back is at a wall again. My hand is at the back of my neck and rubbing at it as my eyes move to the wall across from me. "I wasn't in my right mind. I don't think it's right or fair to hold me to those vows." I say finally, even though I know she's going to go in to full on SKYLAR mode over those words. When I say that, I remember my vows. She had said hers first, and I followed after her. I remember them really well and how stupid I sounded. I probably looked stupid too while saying it. But I said it and so there was no going back. Or denying it. Eventually she would remember. "I Ric, take you, Skyar to be my wife and my annoying conscious. To tell me when I'm being the asshole that I am and to hold me to correcting my asshole tendencies. When I'm too much of an asshole. I will promise not to stab myself in the head whenever you talk too much, which you will, and even put up with you wanting cuddle time, as long as you're always on top. I don't spoon, but we can cuddle. I promise to help you in any way I can, as long as it doesn't have to do with me being social. I hate people. Not you, but people. I don't know how I feel about you yet, but I feel more for you than anyone else and I will try to show that as much as I can, in the ways I understand how to express that I care. And you must wear scrubs on days that end with y, even if they won't last more than one night.” I am in a good mood. Am I happy when I say these things? I'm not against saying them when we're at the court house. I shake my head and clear out the memory from my head. "I don't want to be a statistic. A negative one." I say finally after a lot of silence.

Skylar:
“Pfft. People do plenty of things drunk they wouldn’t do sober. Doesn’t mean they don’t want to do them Ricky. Just means they didn’t have the guts to do it sober.”
Stupidly I miss the last part of he is wording which denote that he probably does recall his vows. I remember mine, so I should figure it but I don’t.
“And this all started because of you Ricky. You are your stupid incessant conversations about marriage. I brought it up once. You brought it up all the rest of the times. Okay… twice… if we count last night. But I’m still blaming you for that. You and your stupid question about five months was the ‘we get married mark’. Well maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all eh? Yesterday was around about 5 months and we ******* ended up married. So… Your fault.”
I get up and start pacing back and forth next to the bed, doing my clicking thing with my hands. Click, click, clap. Click, click, clap.
I’m pretty sure the universe hates me.

Ric:
"I was telling you so this didn't happen. You barely listen to the things I say. Or take them seriously. So this isn't my fault at all. It's your fault. You've always wanted to get married. Deep down. Since you were a little girl. You even make us do things that married people do. Buy beds, share space, touch me all the time. Not my fault." I know the last stuff isn't accurate. I've seen unmarried couples do these things all the time in public. It's disgusting. "But if I did start it and you sound as if you don't like it or are happy with the outcome, let's go get an annulment." I offer, half heading to the bedroom door.

Skylar:
“Let me make this simple for you. We both said I do. Or our own forms thereof. I think that means something. You quite clearly think it means ****. So… Do you or do you not, want to be married to me?”
I think we’ve both recalled what we’re going to recall of that night. But while I clearly think it means something. He thinks it’s a load of ****. So, we’ve hit that wall. The make or break point. Okay yes commitment freaks me the **** out, but now here I am married and while yes, I’m confused, I’m surprisingly willing to give it a go. Ric on the other hand wanted to burn down the building or go tear **** up or whatever. Okay now he wants a regular old annulment but still… I’m actually hurting because of it.

Ric:
"I liked how things were before." I state honestly. "I don't want to be married to anyone. I said that months ago." I lean against the door frame, eyes on Skylar. "Can't we be like before?"

Skylar:
Sure we could. But now I knew that was probably never going to be enough for me. I ******* love Ric, more than anyone I’ve ever met or cared for. In fact while he wasn’t the first to break my heart, he probably was the first that actually had full possession of it. I tell myself not to cry and slip the gold band from my finger.
“I don’t think we can.”
It hurts to tell him that and my voice wavers. This really ******* sucks.
“You don’t love me… do you? I mean you can’t say the words. I’m sure if you said it last night I'd remember. I’d know. But I don’t. So you didn’t.”

Ric:
I watch her and frown. Why couldn't we go back to what we were? We liked it. I liked it. She seemed to like it. She didn't complain as much. "I care a lot about you." I tell her. Love is a complicated emotion. One I try to avoid. "I didn't say it last night." I admit. "I said I care a lot about you and feel a lot more for you than anyone I know. That is true." I look at the ring she pulled off her finger. "I said I would try to show it." I walk over to her because I think this is one of those times. I grab her hand and give it two good squeezes. "I told you my views and stance on marriage. I don't think that can change. We could still do this. What we were doing. We liked that. I liked that."

Skylar:
“Erm…”
**** me. Why did he have to make this so difficult? The one time I need for him to be a complete and utter arse and he’s being nice to me. Yep. Real great, universe. Kick a girl when she’s down.
“What does it matter what you said in your vows if you don’t want to be married?”
I can’t look at him. Tears are building up behind my eyes and he already has a hold of my hand. ********. I should just kick him in the nuts and run. But I don’t. Oh **** me. Why can’t I move?

Ric:
I don't know what to say. I have my stance on things. Marriages are pointless and archaic. If I'm committed to something, I'm committed. I'm not committed to the idea of marriage. Never have been, never will be. Pretty sure of it. "Oh." I say. It's all I can say. Maybe I did say all those things while I was drunk and they didn't mean a single thing. Spur of the moment thing said because we were being stupid. "I'm sorry." I am. Kind of. I'm sorry we got here. I hadn't planned on going here with her and we were fine with it. And now that we are here, she's not fine with it. Why we couldn't go back, just doesn't make sense. Why does Skylar have to have things her way, when what we had was fine? It's frustrating and I tell her this. "We can go back. We liked where we were. It worked. You're being unreasonable and selfish. I was honest from the beginning. You can't force me to change when I don't see the point of changing. We were fine." Maybe a little too much, but it's the truth to me.

Skylar:
I pull my hand from his and walk over to the dresser where his ring is. I pick it up and turn it over in my free hand, as the other holds my own. Somehow I doubt the guy he got these from gave them up willingly. I look inside the ring. It’s engraved with initials and a date. He was right. This was wrong. We’d taken someone else’s dream, married while drunk and now, in the cold hard light of day… or moon light or whatever, here we are unable to even agree about staying married.
I walk back to him and kiss him twice before forcing the rings into his hand. I couldn’t keep it. Not after what we’d done.
“This is killing me… I love you Ricky. I can’t even tell you how much. And I want to stay. I do. God why can’t you be your usual self and make this easier for me?”
I wipe away tears with the backs of my hands, bringing both hands up to my eyes at the same time. I give one long sweep of my fingers, my hands moving outwards and then rub them over my nightdress to dry them. I’m not going to cry.
“But it’s clear now that this is never going to work. We got married and you still couldn’t tell me you loved me. I can’t stay with someone that doesn’t love me Ricky.”
I pull out my duffle bag from under the bed and start filling it with my stuff from the dresser. I just keep myself moving. I have to, because if I stop, he might persuade me to stay and I’m not sure if that’s even possible. Yes, we could try but this moment right now would haunt me forever, because he doesn’t even want to try to be married to me.
“I don’t want to change you Ricky. That’s why I have to leave. As much as I hate to say it… you’ll never be what I need. I thought it was in you. Deep within you. But I was wrong.”
His name catches in my throat every time I say it and I start to feel sick. I feel like a *****. I tricked him into a relationship, he opened his home to me, he even gave into my carnal desires and found some of his own and now here I am walking away, for what? Because he can’t say three ******* words.

Ric:
I look down at the rings and then at her and watch her start to pack her things. I don't understand what is happening. I have never been in this situation before. Ever. I don't know how I should feel about this, if anything. "I understand. Progression is the way of life. To survival. I have not progressed to your satisfaction." I squeeze the rings in my hand. I think I have made progression, but I'm not sure. I would have to ask. I plan to do that another night. "You're leaving. But you work here. Have things here." I point out that she can't really leave. Since this is where we work. Was she quitting? "Are you quitting?" I ask, staring back at her, the rings and my hand behind my back now.

Skylar:
The guy is actually trying to kill me with kindness. What the ****? Where is the arsehole I fell in love with? Why can’t he be mean and say dumb **** like he normally does and piss me off? Is he purposely trying to make my heart break for him? I feel like I’m kicking a puppy. Oh ****. Blackie. Well I guess he comes with me, cos Ric’ll kill him in a matter of days.
“**** me Ric. Why aren’t you trying to piss me off? Yes I’m quitting. If you think I can come here day after day feeling how I feel about you and not be with you, then you really have no clue how I feel. And you have progressed. So don’t go laying this all at your feet, ‘kay?”
Great am I really doing this? I’m never ******* leaving if I try and take his pain away. No wait. **** him. I’m leaving and he’s ******* letting me. Wanker. I have no idea how I’m getting all of my **** out of here but I’ll do it. Maybe I’ll have Ali pick some stuff up for me. Or I could get Dillon to meet me downstairs. That’d work too.
“I’ll take all my **** with me Ric, I don’t have that much stuff. So don’t worry. You won’t have to be tripping over my crap once I’m gone.”

Ric:
She was quitting. We were working on projects together and she was bailing on them. Because I couldn't say I love you to her. "Your work ethic sucks." I tell her as I glare at Skylar. Business and pleasure shouldn't mix. Lesson learned. "Make sure you take all your girl crap from the bathroom too." I toss the rings on the dresser, one, or both of them go rolling off the dresser and hit the floor. I hear the cling it makes when it hits the floor. "And all your food. Since I can't eat it. I'm not hosting guests here for stupid football or some other lame sport." I move to the living room where my desk is and sit by it. She's not taking anything I had here before she came along.

Skylar:
My bag’s almost full and I find myself doing a mental check of the important things. My two electric guitars and amp at already at Dillon’s place, thankfully. My acoustic is in the front room. All my jewellery stuff can be replaced. So that leaves… I look around the room, ignoring the sound of the rings rolling around wherever it was my arse of a husband threw them. Ex-husband. Finally though he’s being an arse. Though I’m not sure that’s actually helping any.
“I’m taking the dog!”
I call out as retrieve my diary from its hiding pace and shove it in my bag. A few minutes later, having cleared my stuff from the bathroom I walk into the front room.
“Look. Okay. I can’t see you or speak to you or anything. Not for a while. This is killing me as it is. And my work ethic doesn’t suck, because I’d actually have to have one for that to be true. I just did what I did because I knew I could help you. You did okay before I started working for you and you’ll be fine once I’m gone.”
I catch myself doing it again and while I’m telling myself to be annoyed and just get the **** out, I can't because I do still love him.

Ric:
"I don't like the thing anyways. Or it doesn't like me. Either way, I don't care." I tell her. Stupid dog. I glare at it sitting on the couch, its eyes barely peeking out over its folded up paws. "Don't let the door hit you in the *** on your way out." I saw that in a movie when I was in my early teens on the television. Or heard that line, rather. "I did fine before you came long. Not just okay." I correct her. Sure, my business was just starting out, but I come up with new ideas every couple weeks. So I knew I would be fine. "I have to finish a project, so can we move it along, princess?" I say the last bit sarcastically, mostly her name.

Skylar:
I look at Ric but quickly look away and move to pick up my guitar case. I can’t be arsed with anything else, nothing else matters; I’m leaving behind the one thing I really want, so the loss of any one material object doesn’t really compare in the grand scheme of things.
“Chuck the food and whatever else of mine you find. Sell my jewellery if you like, or give it away. Whatever. None of it matters.”
I want to change my mind. I’m not even out the door and I know I’ve fucked up. I know it. I feel it. I’m fighting tears again and I feel like I can’t breathe.
“I love you Ricky. Take care of yourself okay.”
Those are my last words to him.
I get to the door and give a short, sharp whistle which causes Blackie to jump off the sofa and run to my side. I’d get his lead but I know he’ll stay with me, and I need to get out of here quick. I leave, closing the door behind me but I don’t move, not at first. I place one hand on the cold, hard barrier between me and Ric and rest my head against it.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
My words are whispered as tears begin to run down my cheeks. I take a moment, focus my erratic brain and head for Dillon’s place.
What the **** did I just do?

Ric:
I am not an expert at relationships, but if someone says they love something, I find it hard to believe they could just leave it behind over the fact someone couldn't say three words to validate whatever the other person wanted to hear. I watch the dog go running off after Skylar beckons him, and as it passes me, I lift my foot to kick it in the ***. Only, I don't. I just lift my foot and it goes nowhere near the thing. I'm not mad at the dog. I'm not even mad at Skylar. I can't be. I know how illogical she can be, so this is one more illogical action on her end. I just wait, because I know once she thinks about it she'll come back and tell me I'm right. I stand there, staring at the door. What will I say when she comes back in the door? I don't know. Should I tell her it was good she came back to her senses? I don't think that is a good idea. That I'm glad she's back? Not if she's bailing on our work. I don't like people with shoddy work ethics. Should I rehire her and tell her she doesn't get a pay raise any time soon? I don't know. I just stare at the door. I don't know how long I'm standing there, but it's a while. I don't hear her or the dog anymore. She's not coming back. Sometimes Skylar doesn't realize how illogical she is being until I point it out to her. Only, she told me we weren't going to talk for a while. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell her. Or she'll come back tomorrow once she calms down. Yeah, tomorrow she'll be back. I go to my desk, pull out the start of some project I started about a month ago and attempt to finish it while I wait for Skylar to stop having one of her Skylar moments.