The Lake

Andros Carter

Well-Known Member
Messages
450
OOC First Name
Beth
Wand
Apple Wood, 13" Essence of Hippogriff Tailhair, Flexible
"Hey," Andros spoke softly to the pale figure sitting in the moonlight beside the lake, "I told you I would come back." He smiled into her eyes and they shone through the glimmers of her watery silhouette. They smiled to each other for a moment. Andros seemed to jerk awake, suddenly remembering his gift for her. He had to do his best not to recoil at their stench as he offered up a tasteful bouquet of flowers. Their scent had been magnified so as to give her a chance to smell them.
 
She did not hear his approach, caught up in her own thoughts which lay somewhere at the depths of the lake. But his arrival brought her back to earth with a smile. She gratefully accepted the flowers. "Thank you," she flushed, though it was hardly obvious in her pale form. He looked at her expectantly. "Yes," she lied, "yes, I can smell them. They're beautiful. Thank you." She did not wish to disappoint Andros, not when he was making the effort to come all the way to the lake each week and visit her. This arrangement had been going on for two years, now. He was, and would likely be, her only visitor. The thing was, nobody had bothered to buy up the property where she had once lived. Nobody had bothered to do anything about it, to give her new company. They all knew the lake was haunted by the mournful being. But she was happy, now. She had Andros.
 
His eyes glimmered. "That's excellent," he beamed, gently reaching out a hand to pause beside hers. She was not a solid object. He could not hug her, he could not cry onto her shoulder, but she was there, and they could talk. And they had talked for so long already. And Andros had grown to care for the ghost. The story of the sad ghost who would sit and listen to him talk, who would offer him comfort and lay at his side through the midnight hours. Andros reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a silver hip flask, swigging deeply from it before replacing it again. He was a mess. Years had passed but that one day had destroyed him. His little girl needed a daddy but he could not be there for her. He had only just gotten back in to work. Nobody except Gyneth knew he was still not coping. He would have to face up to life sooner or later.
 
Had she still possessed a heart, at the sight of his hip flask, it would have sunk straight to the ground on which she sat. "Andros," she said sadly, brushing her hand against his but feeling nothing. How she longed to feel the cool of the earth, the chill of the water, the air against her cheeks. "Please," her voice sounded helpless. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop him. Not physically, not mentally. And he knew it too. "I thought you'd stopped. I thought you said you had resolved these drink issues? You said you'd give up. For me."
 
Andros heaved a sigh, trying to ignore the truth. But he had tried to give it up. He had managed to clean himself up so much. But not for long. Soon he had been tempted back to the bottle. Soon it had numbed the troubles of his mind. He needed somebody living to talk to. He needed to tell his wife, but he hadn't the heart. Kira was hardly a stupid woman. She knew when something was troubling him. She knew something was wrong. But he refused to talk about it, brushing it off as feeling 'under the weather' or 'stressed from work'. He did not wish to expose his feelings about the situation, should the memories flood back to her and destroy his chances to play this charade of 'happy families'. "Gyneth," Andros shook his head, rubbing at his tired eyes, "I tried. Really, I did. And I'm going to quit. I will." He looked at her pleadingly.
 

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