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alicia_hTitle: The Carnival is Over
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Word Count: 2173
Pairings (if any): Nell/Michael
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Nell and Michael, the morning after going to the pub after leaving the folk club and ending up in bed together.
It seemed that this was destined to be one of those long and winding days that would burn itself into Nell's memory and that she might one day look back upon as a sort of turning point or the very beginning of a new phase of her life. This was no comfort to her, however, at half past for the next morning when she stumbled unseeingly from Michael's warm bed in the direction of his bathroom. She had not made it halfway across a floor that was so cold her bare feet felt almost as if they might freeze off when she fell straight down, landing hard on her knees as she grabbed for the sink that was somewhere high above her.
Nell could both hear and feel herself retching. She did not want to be sick. She wanted to fight it back and, though she knew she would lose to her body's reflexes in the end, she still tried to will herself not to be sick.
Not now, she thought. Please not now. Not here. Not here of all places. Not this of all times.
Those words became something of a prayer or a mantra to her in those fearful few seconds she spent frozen to the floor. Then she lost her foolish fight. There would never have been a chance of her winning. Whether it was the fault of the baby or the beer, or the baby making the point that she should never have drunk the beer, she was going to be sick. Here, now, in Michael's bathroom in the middle of the night.
The first few heaves shook her body so much it shocked her. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Michael walked in to find her vomiting violently onto his terracotta tiles and he tried to help her by gathering her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. But it did not help. She knew her hair was already sticky with sick from the places it had fallen into her face. And, of all people, she did not want him to be the one rubbing her back and shoulders and telling her she would be all right. She could have coped with it being Quin because, despite all the embarrassment of sitting being sick on someone's floor, it would mean he was there for her. She would have thought nothing of it being Ian. He had been there for her since the very first time she had got sick off drinks just as she had been for him. Tim, even though he kept himself to himself the majority of the time, was a sensible lad and would have been a comforting and familiar presence. And Steven would have been perfect because he was just Steven and he was just her mate and he knew exactly what else was up with her other than drinking too much and he knew exactly what sort of day she'd had and how far to push any teasing.
But Michael was something different. She had just slept with Michael and she thought he might like him enough to see him again but she did not know him well enough for him to be the one talking her through this. Michael was warm. Michael's fingers were calloused and felt strange when they brushed briefly and lightly across her neck. Michael's voice had a sort of rich, deep, honey quality to it, even when he wasn't singing. Michael wanted to help her, comfort her. Michael was too confusing. Michael was here.
Five and a bit hours later, Nell found herself sitting in the front seat of Michael's van with the two of them staring at her shared house. They had been there for a while simply staring without speaking. After Nell had finished being sick, Michael had put her straight back to bed with a hot water bottle and a cuddly toy he told he he'd had since childhood but tended to hide away if he thought he might be bringing anybody back to his house.
By the time Nell had woken up for the second time, Michael had cleaned the bathroom floor, taken a shower and had curled himself beside her sleeping form. She pieced this information together first from the strong scent of mint from his shampoo and feeling his still damp hair beneath her fingers as she brushed it out of his face. Michael opened his eyes as she did this, showing them to be a beautiful greenish brown shade of hazel, while last night she had thought they had been a simple, uncomplicated brown. He smiled sweetly at her.
"Good morning," Nell whispered.
"Good morning, love," was the still smiling Michael's whispered reply.
They had lain there for a long time, exchanging smiles and waking up slowly together. Nell's embarrassment earlier that same morning hibernated at the very back of her mind, all but forgotten until the time came when Michael slowly sat up and offered to drive her home. She murmured her agreement, though would have far preferred to remain there for the rest of the day.
"I'm sorry about before," Nell said sheepishly once she had sat upright herself.
"It's really not your fault, love. I had you drinking when you told me you'd not been well. I just hope you're feeling all right now and I've not made things worse."
She leaned into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder, the mint scent of his shampoo coming over her strong once more. "I feel fine. Honest."
"Well I'm glad," Michael told her before kissing the top of her head. He suddenly began to sing softly, "'I'm feeling glad all over, yes I'm glad all over, baby I'm glad all over, so glad you're mine.' Who does that one? The Beatles?"
"It's a Dave Clark Five song," Nell said before adding, "but I think the Beatles might have sung it on the radio."
Nell could feel Michael nodding. "That's probably it then. Half those sort of beat bands on the radio sound the same to me, or very similar at least. But I like the Beatles."
"I think pretty much everyone likes the Beatles."
"True, true, but I think I especially like them. If I was a lass, I'd probably be screaming at all their concerts like all their girl fans. Do you think that's strange?"
"No, I don't suppose I do really. I don't think theirs anything wrong with getting excited about music. I screamed at the top of my lungs the last time I saw them."
"Where was that then?"
"Oh, in New York," Nell told him in as casual a voice as she could but she could not help grinning and bursting out in laughter at the excited look of shock and awe that spread over his face.
"When... why... no, actually, how were you in New York?"
"I was there in the summer and I was able to go there because my uncle is a pilot for an airline, which means I get cheap holidays from time to time."
"As you've answered the when and how, I don't suppose you'll do the same the why as well, will you?" Michael asked carefully, as if expecting she would not want to answer or perhaps guessing at the truth and knowing it might hurt him to hear it from her. "Just a holiday? Or spending time with family? Or..."
"Before you say it, yes, I was visiting my boyfriend. He's American. I very rarely get to see him face to face."
"I see," Michael said, gathering blankets up in his fists and gazing down at that rather than meeting her eye.
"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you. I didn't know if you were serious about seeing me or if you just wanted to take me to bed. Either way it wasn't the best time to bring up my boyfriend across the sea."
"Yeah, well, I would sort of like to be your boyfriend. But," he sighed, "if I can't be that then I'd rather see you again than not at all."
"Michael." Nell paused, entirely unsure what to say. He looked at her hopefully. "Look, I need to think about that. I love my boyfriend. I've been lonely without him and I'm sure he's met a few lasses since of but I'd like to think he doesn't call any of them his girlfriend. I don't want to do something to him that would hurt me if he did the same."
"Okay," Michael said, his voice sounding dull and distant as he climbed out of the bed. "Well, I suppose I can understand that. But if things change, if you ever rethink where you stand with your American boyfriend, I would really appreciate you letting me know."
And so here they were, not so very long later, sitting in silence but neither making a movement towards getting out of the van.
"I hope I'll see you around," Nell said quietly.
"I'm going to be doing a regular set at __ so, yeah, hopefully I'll see you there." Michael turned his head to look at her properly. "And I'll always be happy to play guitar for you whenever you want to a couple of songs down there."
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
"It's not a problem. You're a good singer, Nell. I'd like to hear more of you."
"Oh!" Nell felt herself starting to go red. "Well, I thought you were a very good singer too. But thank you. I hope we can sing together. I'd rather that than just having you play for me."
Michael smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling with excitement. "I'd love that, Nell. I would really love that."
"Good. That's good." Nell said, returning his smile as her blush deepened.
"We'll do a few songs next time I'm on at ___."
"Yes!" Nell agreed emphatically. "I look forward to it."
Michael, his smile widening into a grin, opened his door and jumped down, rushing around the front of the van to open the door on Nell's side. He held his hand out to her, which she grabbed hold of with another smile in his direction, and helped her down onto the pavement.
After Michael had retrieved Nell's bag and locked up his van, he asked her, "Am I all right to call round to practise with you?"
"Of course," Nell told him. "I've got a reading week and the house is pretty much empty apart from Steven, who you know a bit, and Mary Anne, who you met last night. You could come in now, if you would like to."
Michael's face fell immediately. "I'm sorry," he said sounding suddenly extremely sad. "I'm so sorry. I've got to get to work. But tomorrow... no, the day after. I can do the day after tomorrow."
"Yes, yes. The day after tomorrow is good."
"All right," Michael said, his cheer returning. "The day after tomorrow it is then."
He then turned from her and jumped back into his van and with a wave zoomed around the corner, out of sight and out of her life until the day after the next.
Once inside, Nell found no sign of Steven or Mary Anne. She went up to her room, which was temporarily not her room, to retrieve a handful of records before going two staircases further up to the room which, while it was not her room, was temporarily her room. She spread the records over the bed and picked out the first that came to hand and put it on Steven's record player, which was currently hers.
The record was Beatles first one as evidenced by the opening of the first song:
'One two three FOUR!
Well she was just seventeen
You know what I mean
And the way she looked was way beyond compare..."
Singing along with no question of embarrassment crossing her mind, Nell moved across the room, intending to spend her time perusing Steven's bookshelves until she found a book she really fancied starting to read.
She saw plenty that interested her but nothing that could really suit her present mood. So she instead swept the other records back into a haphazard pile and lay back to listen to John Lennon singing imploringly some lass called Anna.
'You can go with him girl.'
All right, Michael, she thought. Let's do our practising and our singing together and all that. We'll see where it goes. It might even be good for a little while, but I know you'll just drop me anyway when you find out I'm pregnant with my actual boyfriend's child. I don't blame you. I mean I won't blame you. Any man would do the same. It's not your kid. I won't force the responsibility on you. I just want to sing with you and have a few nights like last night, though without the drinking and being sick, before it's too late for me. Is that all right? Is that too much to ask?
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Word Count: 2173
Pairings (if any): Nell/Michael
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): none
Summary: Nell and Michael, the morning after going to the pub after leaving the folk club and ending up in bed together.
It seemed that this was destined to be one of those long and winding days that would burn itself into Nell's memory and that she might one day look back upon as a sort of turning point or the very beginning of a new phase of her life. This was no comfort to her, however, at half past for the next morning when she stumbled unseeingly from Michael's warm bed in the direction of his bathroom. She had not made it halfway across a floor that was so cold her bare feet felt almost as if they might freeze off when she fell straight down, landing hard on her knees as she grabbed for the sink that was somewhere high above her.
Nell could both hear and feel herself retching. She did not want to be sick. She wanted to fight it back and, though she knew she would lose to her body's reflexes in the end, she still tried to will herself not to be sick.
Not now, she thought. Please not now. Not here. Not here of all places. Not this of all times.
Those words became something of a prayer or a mantra to her in those fearful few seconds she spent frozen to the floor. Then she lost her foolish fight. There would never have been a chance of her winning. Whether it was the fault of the baby or the beer, or the baby making the point that she should never have drunk the beer, she was going to be sick. Here, now, in Michael's bathroom in the middle of the night.
The first few heaves shook her body so much it shocked her. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Michael walked in to find her vomiting violently onto his terracotta tiles and he tried to help her by gathering her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. But it did not help. She knew her hair was already sticky with sick from the places it had fallen into her face. And, of all people, she did not want him to be the one rubbing her back and shoulders and telling her she would be all right. She could have coped with it being Quin because, despite all the embarrassment of sitting being sick on someone's floor, it would mean he was there for her. She would have thought nothing of it being Ian. He had been there for her since the very first time she had got sick off drinks just as she had been for him. Tim, even though he kept himself to himself the majority of the time, was a sensible lad and would have been a comforting and familiar presence. And Steven would have been perfect because he was just Steven and he was just her mate and he knew exactly what else was up with her other than drinking too much and he knew exactly what sort of day she'd had and how far to push any teasing.
But Michael was something different. She had just slept with Michael and she thought he might like him enough to see him again but she did not know him well enough for him to be the one talking her through this. Michael was warm. Michael's fingers were calloused and felt strange when they brushed briefly and lightly across her neck. Michael's voice had a sort of rich, deep, honey quality to it, even when he wasn't singing. Michael wanted to help her, comfort her. Michael was too confusing. Michael was here.
Five and a bit hours later, Nell found herself sitting in the front seat of Michael's van with the two of them staring at her shared house. They had been there for a while simply staring without speaking. After Nell had finished being sick, Michael had put her straight back to bed with a hot water bottle and a cuddly toy he told he he'd had since childhood but tended to hide away if he thought he might be bringing anybody back to his house.
By the time Nell had woken up for the second time, Michael had cleaned the bathroom floor, taken a shower and had curled himself beside her sleeping form. She pieced this information together first from the strong scent of mint from his shampoo and feeling his still damp hair beneath her fingers as she brushed it out of his face. Michael opened his eyes as she did this, showing them to be a beautiful greenish brown shade of hazel, while last night she had thought they had been a simple, uncomplicated brown. He smiled sweetly at her.
"Good morning," Nell whispered.
"Good morning, love," was the still smiling Michael's whispered reply.
They had lain there for a long time, exchanging smiles and waking up slowly together. Nell's embarrassment earlier that same morning hibernated at the very back of her mind, all but forgotten until the time came when Michael slowly sat up and offered to drive her home. She murmured her agreement, though would have far preferred to remain there for the rest of the day.
"I'm sorry about before," Nell said sheepishly once she had sat upright herself.
"It's really not your fault, love. I had you drinking when you told me you'd not been well. I just hope you're feeling all right now and I've not made things worse."
She leaned into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder, the mint scent of his shampoo coming over her strong once more. "I feel fine. Honest."
"Well I'm glad," Michael told her before kissing the top of her head. He suddenly began to sing softly, "'I'm feeling glad all over, yes I'm glad all over, baby I'm glad all over, so glad you're mine.' Who does that one? The Beatles?"
"It's a Dave Clark Five song," Nell said before adding, "but I think the Beatles might have sung it on the radio."
Nell could feel Michael nodding. "That's probably it then. Half those sort of beat bands on the radio sound the same to me, or very similar at least. But I like the Beatles."
"I think pretty much everyone likes the Beatles."
"True, true, but I think I especially like them. If I was a lass, I'd probably be screaming at all their concerts like all their girl fans. Do you think that's strange?"
"No, I don't suppose I do really. I don't think theirs anything wrong with getting excited about music. I screamed at the top of my lungs the last time I saw them."
"Where was that then?"
"Oh, in New York," Nell told him in as casual a voice as she could but she could not help grinning and bursting out in laughter at the excited look of shock and awe that spread over his face.
"When... why... no, actually, how were you in New York?"
"I was there in the summer and I was able to go there because my uncle is a pilot for an airline, which means I get cheap holidays from time to time."
"As you've answered the when and how, I don't suppose you'll do the same the why as well, will you?" Michael asked carefully, as if expecting she would not want to answer or perhaps guessing at the truth and knowing it might hurt him to hear it from her. "Just a holiday? Or spending time with family? Or..."
"Before you say it, yes, I was visiting my boyfriend. He's American. I very rarely get to see him face to face."
"I see," Michael said, gathering blankets up in his fists and gazing down at that rather than meeting her eye.
"I'm sorry if I've disappointed you. I didn't know if you were serious about seeing me or if you just wanted to take me to bed. Either way it wasn't the best time to bring up my boyfriend across the sea."
"Yeah, well, I would sort of like to be your boyfriend. But," he sighed, "if I can't be that then I'd rather see you again than not at all."
"Michael." Nell paused, entirely unsure what to say. He looked at her hopefully. "Look, I need to think about that. I love my boyfriend. I've been lonely without him and I'm sure he's met a few lasses since of but I'd like to think he doesn't call any of them his girlfriend. I don't want to do something to him that would hurt me if he did the same."
"Okay," Michael said, his voice sounding dull and distant as he climbed out of the bed. "Well, I suppose I can understand that. But if things change, if you ever rethink where you stand with your American boyfriend, I would really appreciate you letting me know."
And so here they were, not so very long later, sitting in silence but neither making a movement towards getting out of the van.
"I hope I'll see you around," Nell said quietly.
"I'm going to be doing a regular set at __ so, yeah, hopefully I'll see you there." Michael turned his head to look at her properly. "And I'll always be happy to play guitar for you whenever you want to a couple of songs down there."
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
"It's not a problem. You're a good singer, Nell. I'd like to hear more of you."
"Oh!" Nell felt herself starting to go red. "Well, I thought you were a very good singer too. But thank you. I hope we can sing together. I'd rather that than just having you play for me."
Michael smiled at her, his hazel eyes twinkling with excitement. "I'd love that, Nell. I would really love that."
"Good. That's good." Nell said, returning his smile as her blush deepened.
"We'll do a few songs next time I'm on at ___."
"Yes!" Nell agreed emphatically. "I look forward to it."
Michael, his smile widening into a grin, opened his door and jumped down, rushing around the front of the van to open the door on Nell's side. He held his hand out to her, which she grabbed hold of with another smile in his direction, and helped her down onto the pavement.
After Michael had retrieved Nell's bag and locked up his van, he asked her, "Am I all right to call round to practise with you?"
"Of course," Nell told him. "I've got a reading week and the house is pretty much empty apart from Steven, who you know a bit, and Mary Anne, who you met last night. You could come in now, if you would like to."
Michael's face fell immediately. "I'm sorry," he said sounding suddenly extremely sad. "I'm so sorry. I've got to get to work. But tomorrow... no, the day after. I can do the day after tomorrow."
"Yes, yes. The day after tomorrow is good."
"All right," Michael said, his cheer returning. "The day after tomorrow it is then."
He then turned from her and jumped back into his van and with a wave zoomed around the corner, out of sight and out of her life until the day after the next.
Once inside, Nell found no sign of Steven or Mary Anne. She went up to her room, which was temporarily not her room, to retrieve a handful of records before going two staircases further up to the room which, while it was not her room, was temporarily her room. She spread the records over the bed and picked out the first that came to hand and put it on Steven's record player, which was currently hers.
The record was Beatles first one as evidenced by the opening of the first song:
'One two three FOUR!
Well she was just seventeen
You know what I mean
And the way she looked was way beyond compare..."
Singing along with no question of embarrassment crossing her mind, Nell moved across the room, intending to spend her time perusing Steven's bookshelves until she found a book she really fancied starting to read.
She saw plenty that interested her but nothing that could really suit her present mood. So she instead swept the other records back into a haphazard pile and lay back to listen to John Lennon singing imploringly some lass called Anna.
'You can go with him girl.'
All right, Michael, she thought. Let's do our practising and our singing together and all that. We'll see where it goes. It might even be good for a little while, but I know you'll just drop me anyway when you find out I'm pregnant with my actual boyfriend's child. I don't blame you. I mean I won't blame you. Any man would do the same. It's not your kid. I won't force the responsibility on you. I just want to sing with you and have a few nights like last night, though without the drinking and being sick, before it's too late for me. Is that all right? Is that too much to ask?
no subject
Date: 2012-11-21 11:46 pm (UTC)thank you for posting these and i'm enjoying playing catch up; nom nom and thrice nom! :))
no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:05 am (UTC)I have a busy couple of days coming up as I'm moving to that place opposite the abandoned pub on Saturday. I'll still make or find time for nano and to post extracts but can't promise any long replies until I've finished with the move.
I have to say I'm very thrilled to be getting out of this place. :-D
no subject
Date: 2012-11-22 12:31 am (UTC)good luck with everything and at least i have your current postings to re-read in your absence, i want to make sure i'm up to date and have read things properly.
btw; your new icons are very nice :)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 12:46 am (UTC)I'm a perpetual hoarder of books, cds, records and such. It honestly seems physically impossible for me to have it all the way my dad wants it - all in boxes and ready to go in one trip. I don't have enough boxes for one thing and for another I simply have not given myself enough time to even get half way there.
All my stuff is in a swirling vortex of confusion in the middle of my room at the moment with only a vague idea of what's the stuff I *need* with me, what I *want* with me and what I can deal with being in my dad's garage for I don't know how long like most of my Beatles books currently are.
I went up to Holmfirth today to view this flat:
http://www.rightmove.co.uk/property-to-rent/property-23306871.html
I still wouldn't be able to have *all the things* there but it makes it clear that doing another houseshare (as with the place I'm supposed to be moving on Saturday) is really not what I want at this point. I need a bit of space to spread out, preferably my own space.
My head's really all over the place with this at the moment. The only thing I know for sure is that I don't want to be in this house that I'm currently in any longer than I have to be.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:02 am (UTC)did you know there is a fancy neuro-science lingo word for hoarding? they call it 'punding' - might be handy for scrabble!
i was over on my page having trouble with the last line of a bit of speedwriting but i think i fixed it (ish).
i now picture your head like Alice when she grows too big for the house... :))
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:43 am (UTC)Hopefully I'll find a way for Saturday to go ahead in a none stressful way but something tells me that would be much easier if I could drive. Then I could take things there myself in a sensible order and then it would be clear what can go back to my dad's for a bit.
If I can't explain that to him then it'll either be a giant Alice sized headache as I try to sort things out in a way I know is impossible for me to organise or call it off for another week.
I do hope I can get that flat though I know that would be even more of a stressful move, especially done the dad way.
But ho hum, I suppose things will go the way they go whichever way that may be. I'm glad your here to cheer me up anyway. :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 02:19 am (UTC)actually i had to wait half an hour for the damned scan/update thing but... here i be!
i very much hope saturday goes smoothly and i look forward to the details; it's a universal law i think that dads will do as they will do.
but they often have cars... :))
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:57 pm (UTC)Although the move's not happening this weekend, having less clutter around will help me with sorting out stuff I need for when I do move. :-)
no subject
Date: 2012-11-23 01:09 am (UTC);-)