What? Boy … friends, I don’t … you’re being … ahem. You-you mean, like … like boys who are … are friends, right, um, sure, course you do, I uh … I have a ton of male friends. Thank you, kind stranger, for that … question. Ahem.
Lee Pace and Ralph Fiennes - The White Countess
(via lee-thepacemaker)Tags: #:photos
Part of Randall was disgruntled at Alvin asking about his marriage. It was a little bit of a touchy subject, but then again, he had yammered on and on about it, so of course people would ask about it.He sure as hell wasn’t going to say no to the question. If there was anything that made Randall uncomfortable, it was a pity party. Or anything too mushy.
"Yeah," he said. It wasn’t particularly convincing he realized shortly after the words left his mouth.
"She’s angry often, but she can sometimes be a real kitten."
That part was at least the truth. Dolores had an incredibly sweet side to her, but Randall hadn’t seen it in a long time. He missed it.
He let out a sigh.
"Well…not everything’s roses as you’ve probably gathered. I don’t know what’s happened to her, honestly."
He couldn’t believe he was actually pouring his heart out to someone he had only met once. There was something about Alvin however, that was so comforting. Alvin’s eyes did not judge like other people’s.
"She used to be such a sweetheart."
There were reasons for her coldness, but Randall didn’t want to dig any deeper. Not right now, anyway. It was too early in the evening, and he didn’t have enough drinks in him. He looked over at Alvin.
He felt he had exposed too much of himself too soon. It probably wasn’t anything Alvin wanted to hear either. The guy had come to Randall for a carefree night on the town, not some soppy heart to heart.
Alvin listened in silence, easing up on the brakes and rolling through the light. He tried not to let any of his thoughts play out on his face - which was a difficult feat in and of itself - but he couldn’t help the urge gnawing in his gut to pull over and wrap the guy in a giant hug. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d heard stories of rotten marriages or relationships or friendships, but it was the first time he wanted to fix it for the person.
And not just fix it from the outside. Be the one to patch the wounds, to soothe the sores, to -
He cleared his throat, nodding. “Naw, it’s … nothing to be sorry for. Besides, who else can you talk to about your troubles if not a friend?” Alvin let out what he hoped was a light-hearted laugh. “I’d return the favour but I seem to be without a girl o my own, I’m afraid.”
His laughter turned into a cough and he reached up, loosening his tie a bit. “Bit warm out tonight, eh?”
Her look of anger transcended into one of hurt at his words. She knew how the world worked. There were cops in that damn force who were more crooked than all the criminals in LA combined, and she knew if she went blabbering about his…occupation, his well being was more than likely to pay the price. She may have been livid with him, but she’d never purposely sell him out. That’d be like signing his death certificate.
"I’m not gonna tell on you, Alvin. I may want to kill you, but I won’t go mouthing off about this.”
She was absolutely seething with anger. How dare he put his life in danger like this? Did he not realise what an idiot he was being?
"I hope you understand there’s no getting out of this for you. You can try all you want, but those mobsters will never leave you alone. For Christ’s sake Alvin, do you realise how out of your depth you are?!” Her voice had grown increasingly louder during her spiel, up until the point where she was all but screaming at him.
He never seemed like the type to be getting involved with prostitutes, anyway. She remembered those lads from her time on the seedy side, and Alvin sure as hell didn’t fit the bill.
She thought about all those times he’d picked her up from work because she’d missed her bus, or had taken her to the pictures because she’d wanted to see that new musical everyone was talking about, or bought her lunch because she’d forgotten her purse. He was definitely not a pimp. He was just some average guy who’d been hard pushed for cash and ended up doing something shady because he had no other choice.
Exactly like her.
Her hypocrisy hit her like a tonne of bricks, and she had to put a hand on the desk to steady herself before she keeled over. She looked up at him, eyes misty with tears and her stomach knotting with the guilt. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you…I’m so sorry…”
Alvin saw Gina’s face fall and again he found himself resisting the urge to gatherher up in his arms and hold her. The comfort he’d felt at being so near her now seemed a distant memory and he wondered what all of this would be now. Would she always see him as a pimp, as a lowlife. He cleared his throat, trying to keep from letting his voice crack.
"I know. I know, Gina, it was … but these girls, they needed someone. Someone who … who isn’t a piece of shit, you know? I mean … not totally. It’s easy to stand on the outside sometimes and talk about how … . " He waved a hand in the air, searching for the right words. " … how they need to take care of themselves, save themselves. But this place destroys people. I didn’t want that for these girls."
He saw Gina waver and he hesitated a moment, that same pull to go to her and to give her her distance tearing at him. But then she was looking up at him with those tears in her eyes and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him.
"Ah, Christ, Gina. Don’t cry, it’s not … don’t be sorry. I needed a good talking to." Alvin let out a humourless chuckle, then kissed the top of her head. "I’m safe, okay? I promise. I’m so far off their radar they don’t even send the big boys over. I’m safe, this place is safe, and you’re safe. I’d never … ah, Christ."
((SO sorry for the prolonged absence, guys. Crazy crazy crazy few weeks and all of my muses disappeared so I’m slowly getting back into things. I promise I haven’t abandoned ship!))