Log in

No account? Create an account
the one you warned me all about - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
the one you warned me all about
Aaaand now we come to the scene that I've been dreading since before I actually decided I was writing this, so I may as well just bury the post at an unholy hour and pretend I didn't see it either. Will the last reader to run away screaming please turn off the lights...?


We do have coyotes. With a tug Jason sets himself loose from his lead and goes off to check out the long-legged shape that's shadowing us at the edge of the park. I'm a bit surprised it's not cleared off already at the sight of me, I've not seen one come this close to a person before. Perhaps it's hungry.

...Or a bitch on heat.

There's no reasoning with some of Jason's instincts.

I haven't the slightest idea where I'm meant to look. Though the chatting-up appears to be consensual, if not precisely informed. As matters drag on it occurs to me to take a photo with Jason's mobile, that he may need to be able to find this specific coyote later. (There's a thought I didn't want in my head.) I hesitate over the button once I have, wondering if this has been prudent. But best to err to the side of honesty, always.

Eventually they tire of one another. The coyote lopes off into the scrub, and Jason strolls back to me with entirely too jaunty a step for what I've just had to witness, tongue lolling from his mouth in a distinct grin of satisfaction. "I'm not even going to start," I say, clipping the lead back onto his collar, and we proceed straight home in what I'd imagine to be an awkward silence if I weren't rather used to giving up on my end of these conversations.

Once we're safely in, Jason looks towards his bedroom door, but seems to think better of it; instead he heads to the bath, where he clambers into the tub and puts his chin on his paws. I'm mystified until he raises a foot to scratch his flank. "Oh, bloody hell," I tell him, and switch off the light to go catch whatever sort of a kip I can on the settee before he's back to any state to discuss the evening.

I'm woken from my uneasy doze by a door opening. Jason shuffles past, heading for his bed. Wearing his dressing-gown, for once. He looks hung-over. "Tell me I don't remember what I think I remember about last night," he says from his doorway, without much hope in his eyes. I hand him his mobile. "Shit. Tell me you didn't manage to post that to Facebook again."

Even so, people would assume that they saw two dogs. It's not so far out of line with things Jason would put up himself for the laugh. She's large for her species, well-nourished city-dweller, but they still look ridiculous together. "Everyone's got morning-after-regrets snaps these days, I don't think anyone thinks much of it anymore," I offer.

"My mom would," he says dourly, and takes his laptop into his bedroom for a bit of privacy to check his account. I don't hear chair-legs being broken off and sharpened, so I must not have pressed the wrong something this time. I look in to apologise for taking the photo. Jason shakes his head. "Nah, it was the right thing, man. I would for you."

I can't imagine a situation in which this might come up, and then I can, all too vividly. I ask Jason if he's concerned about the encounter. He seems to know what I mean. They'd just be animals, he says, shrugging.

But there's something weary in his gaze that troubles me. And I wonder how he knows.

feeling: embarrassed embarrassed

2 responses | moved to respond?
ashnistrike From: ashnistrike Date: February 23rd, 2013 01:51 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Poor Jason (but I'm thinking this would be worse for a female were...).

robling_t From: robling_t Date: February 24th, 2013 01:37 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Actually the odds are somewhat more on a woman's side on this one, since she'd have to be unlucky enough for both her cycles to coincide, where the poor guys are pretty much "...I'd hit that" whenever they're exposed to the pheromones. Although it's probably just as well I never did get that short about Iosif and Marianne and the French Resistance written up, because she's rather prone to making jokes about exactly that and it's hard to tell if she's speaking from experience...
2 responses | moved to respond?