WELLLLLLCOME EVERYONE!
TO A NEEEEEEW EPISODE OF LUDGER SPECIAL TRIP TO THE BATTTTTTTHROOOOM!
WHEEEEEEERE HE'LL GET HIS HAIR CLE-!
"Fuckizneheizndkznee!" This strings of words and bullshit comes out of my mouth as an avalanche.
A litteral avalance. The shit come from a mountain. I'm not joking.
Anyway, a litteral avalanche of water come slam on my face, right from the top. Drenching my head fully. My hair completly. And my dignity completely.
The water let the sticky slimy and bloody strands of hair stick to my uppershoulders and cover my face completly, just like they are some sort of octupus tentacles.
"Sorry."
I spit out some water.
"I'll warn you next time"
Yes. This is jenna voice from behind me. She promised to take care of my hair. And so she is.
Unfortunately. There is a lot to take care of right now.
Like blood.
And blood.
And a little bit of blood. May even be some gravel or rocks from who know's where too? I don't know? Do you know? Because I don't.
My hand come up, wide open. The side. The part of skin between the thumb and the index finger, come up, from against my throat, to under my chin, to my face.
I use it to swipe my tangled wet hair out of my face and push it up so I can finally see again
FREEDOM!
"That's fine."
I finally answer jenna. All while she grab the tuft of hair and help me pull it back, slicked and wet. Hanging on my back.
There are still a mess of strands that's sticking on my face of course, buuuut that's fine.
As I said. we're currently in the bathroom together. Sitting on the ground.
Which is dry.
I look around. Actually, how does this shit is draining?
....eh magic.
As I said, we're sitting together. My legs crossed. And her, whatever, maybe the same. Maybe not. I don't have eyes behind my eyes you know?
"They look good" her voice break me out of my mental description.
"They do? Great, I'll cover myself in blood before going to important events" Wait is that foreshadowing?
I can litterally feel her smile growing behind me.
Her tone, more amused than before comes out. "That's not what I mean! And you know that. I mean, under all of those, they look good. Really good."
Well damn.
Been a while since I got a compliment about my hair, it's been since...
Eh whatever, let's ignore that train of thoughts.
She keep working on my hair. Doing her magic, her fingers tangle in some knots. Gently pulling and pushing to detangle them.
I barely even feel it. Pretty masterful work.
She keep going. And I keep sitting there, listening to her.
To what? To her I said. Humming.
That's what she does. A lot. It's pretty good actually. Pretty comfortable.
Really comfortable to be honest.
Just sitting there. Comfortably, hearing some humming as my friend help me with my hair.
Under the half light of the bathroom. The mood is pretty relaxing.
I can litterally feel this shit healing my soul.
"Why do you have long hair?"
She break the humming for a while, doesn't really feel that unnatural.
That's how we pass time usually. When she doesn't pass her time worrying and doing nerd references. That's what happen.
She's pretty quiet. But not as quiet as balrow, she hum. A lot. And then ask some questions from time to time, prodding, even if relatively passive.
"Cause it's cool as fuck" semi-lie.
She laugh a bit at that. "It is"
Her fingers keep working on my skull. And naturally, driven by the mood, I ask her another question.
"You're good at this. Had some practice?"
She get a bit slower. A tiny bit slower, before humming an affirmative.
Ah. Was this a bad subject? Fuck, ABORT ABORT!
Her hands gently continue, picking up a normal speed again. "I did." She doesn't stop speaking, a big knot falling under her fingers. "My brother, he had long hair too."
I give a small hum, just showing I'm listening. She continue. "You make me think of him actually."
I do? Huh, odd. I'm definetly not though. Pretty sure your brother wouldn't intimidate you into shooting faster.
My mood drop a bit as my thought wander towards this.
I hate intrusive thoughts. I really hate them.
That was a bad move. A really bad move.
"He had long hair, just like you" she chuckle a bit.
Fuck. Had? Is he dead too? My mood drop even more. Should I apologize?
Fuck did I just intimidate my grieving frie....
For some reason, I can't finish the word.
Did I just intimidate a grieving gal that compare me to her DEAD brother, into shooting faster!? I'm a piece of shit.
I should apologize. That's like, the worst fucking scenario possible.
Freeze.
My guilt fade, overtaken by this slimy and disgustingly sweet desire for power.
The one coiling in my throat, climbing up and making me want to puke my thoughts out till I bleed.
It disagrees.
It's too late.
Way too late, if I do it now she'll rethink of it.
Look at her, comparing me with her brother.
"But then, he was being dumb and got a buzzcut." A deep sigh come from behind me. "Promise me to never do a buzzcut, it's horrible."
Look at her. She's barely thinking about it. It was a blip in her mind.
A random thing.
She'll never think of it again. She'll shoot better. And our relationship isn't compromised.
That's perfect, that's perfect. Don't apologize.
My hands tighten, hard. I can feel it. So closely, so intimately. My inventory. This space, my object of desire inside. More specifically.
The spear inside.
She keep humming, a big knot making her struggle.
Should I apologize? Shouldn't I? I already messed up by doing that, would I mess up even more by apologizing?
It rise up, as she keep struggling.
It will. I covered everything already. I praised her skills.
That's enough. Nothing more is needed. Everything is fine.
Even if I had a dumb and pathetic childish tantrum by scaring her. It was prepared. I made sure of it.
Take it out on her, make her obey. Like a good object for power.
And then make it easy to swallow.
Make her think it's just my way of speaking.
Make her think she's just being paranoid.
Abuse her. She's a pushover. Use it. I already used it.
She won't say anything. She won't do anything. She'll be the only person that blame herself for what happened.
"Ludger?"
I should apologize. I definetly should. I should I should.
My hand lay low, ready to pounce up.
You know what's going to happen if I apologize?
I know what's going to happen if I apologize.
She pull harder on the knot, stuck.
She'll think of it. Again and again. She's perfect right now, close to me, think she's the one to blame, don't overthink it.
If I apologize. It changes everything. I know those kind of people.
An open book. She'll think of it. During the day. Durning the night. In her dream.
And when a seed is planted, it will grow. Badly.
Don't bring attention.
Everything. Is. Perfect.
"Ludger?"
I barely notice how her tone is a bit more worried now. Instead. My hands tighten. Hard.
My saliva is dry against my mouth. Perfectly regulated.
It is perfect. You know it. Everything was carefully prepared, I'm his son. Even during tantrums.
My tendons want to snap. My spear can be ready, a single, single thought.
It was perfect.
Calm them all. Make them all leave. Show my injuries so jenna stay. Keep her away from the others. And lash out, gently.
I used her.
There is a reason why I focused on her and not balrow even if I wanted to lash out at him too at the same time, even if I wanted to lash out at all of them.
Even after. It was perfect. Using her own insecurities to make her believe everything is normal? Perfect.
Dear ludger treating her like shit? Neeeeever. Never.
You know what happen if you apologize?
She think. She grow. She realize. They all realize.
And you fight monsters.
Alone.
"Ludger? Are you fine?" She keep tugging on the knot. It's utterly stuck.
My hand snap up.
Grabbing my spear mid air. As it appear right in front of my belly.
What if she don't ignore it? What if she shoot me in the back? What if she realize what happened, what if she push back?
My spear flash, pushing up, hard. Fast. Behind me as hard as I can.
"Looked stuck."
My spear dissapear in my inventory again after I cut the knot she was struggling with.
She stop.
Not saying anything. Just letting me in this horrible mood.
This less that comfortable silence.
Did she figured out?
Did she know?
She'll do something or whatever and-! "Ludger. What did I just told about buzzcuts?"
It's my turn to stop. All as her hands trail over my hair, trying to slick them back. "Don't cut your hair."
My fingers shuffle against my pants, twisting the fabric.
"Sure sure, didn't think about it"
She sigh a bit and get back to work "that's fine, be careful next time. Don't worry, I had it."
And we keep going.
My emotions a mess.
Wondering what the fuck just happened.
But nothing change, she hum. She brush my hair, gently. Ask me some questions from time to time. Knots die under her fingers. It's relaxing.
It takes time.
It's slow. It's relaxing. It's comforting. No need to overthink it.
My feelings calm down. Slowly but surely.
That was exactly what I needed.
Thanks you. Really.
It was exactly what I needed, my feelings settle, slowly but surely.
It remind me of someone.
Ignoring the speed at which her fingers in my hair manage to calm me down. Ignoring how long it has been.
I rest, getting exactly what I needed.
Even if it makes no sense, 1 week. Being constantly together for one week can't make you this close to people right?
Am I forgetting something?