holden-richards-blog

[holden-richards-blog]

Just when Becks didn’t think she could get any angrier – hey, surprise! The muscles in her jaw were beginning to ache from clenching and if she didn’t put down that coffee cup soon, she was gonna end up breaking the handle clean off.

Meanwhile, her cop-sense was tingling. This guy definitely didn’t want company. In fact, he was probably trying to piss her off so she’d storm out. Well. Rebecca wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction and did the only thing she could do under the circumstances.

She sat down next to him.

“You know I could chuck you right off the side of this island and no one would ever find your body, right?” she said matter-of-factly while she drank. “This smug routine might work with the brainy crowd, but it isn’t gonna get you too far with me, sweetheart.”

Holden smirked for another half a second as he watched her. She seemed to be getting angrier if such a notion was possible. Part of him really wanted to push her farther, see how angry she got but would it be worth it in the end to push her that far? He contemplated these thoughts for several moments in silence. 

He had expected her to walk away, what he had not expected was for her to sit down next to him. Interesting. He added this new addition to his thoughts. "I would pay good money to see you try such a thing." Holden added with another smile. Part of him did not doubt that she could do so but he also thought it would be entertaining to see her try. Anything would be better than the boring that most of the people here seemed to be. 

"Its not a routine," He looked at her. "It's me," He added. "Just me." Perhaps she would decide that she didn't like that about him and would be on her way. He didn't mind either way he decided. The only thing that was most important to him was finding a way off the island. There had to be someone that had a way. "Unless of course you have a fool proof plan for getting off this island. If so then you are my new best friend." He added with another smile. 

Anger Management | Rebecca & Holden

[holden-richards-blog]

Surely there are many finely-worded descriptions of the all-consuming and unforgiving fires of hell. This isn’t one of them. But if Holden were to pay close enough attention, he might have been able to glimpse them burning behind Rebecca’s eyes as they stared at him, hard and unblinking. In her mind, she picked up the carafe he offered and bashed it against his skull, inflicting the double painof blunt force trauma and slashes from broken—what the fuck was that, ceramic? And then there was the bonus of scalding coffee. The image of Holden doubled over screaming and bleeding into his hands almost made her smile, but she curbed the impulse. The scene stayed in her head, and she told herself it was for the sake of the coffee, not the man. That was most probably a lie. Probably.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a real prick, Professor?” The words might have been similar to her former teasing, but her tone certainly was not. She practically spat the words at him, all friendliness gone. This wasn’t teasing, this was barely restrained fury. “If you knew why didn’t you just fucking tell me?” The curse  was punctuated by her slamming the carafe back on the table.

As Holden sat there silently for a moment, he just watched and for a brief few moments he wished to slip the sunglasses on his head down to his nose. At the last moment though he decided against it, seeing as the woman that was now standing across from him seemed to be in a rather unpleasant mood and he really did not feel the need to make her any worse. Though even as he had this thought in his head, the idea of pushing her to an even angrier place almost seemed like it could be fun. Perhaps he should not get so much joy out of the behaviors of others but he did. He of course would keep those thoughts to himself and see what she had to say.

"Its not the first time that I have heard it," Holden admitted with a smirk, he also imagined that it would not be the last time that he heard it either. "Would you prefer I lie and say that I have never been called a prick before and go off on a tangent about how I don't think you should call me that?"  He quirked an eyebrow at her before he took another sip of his coffee. He watched mildly entertained as she slammed the carafe down and for a moment, he didn't answer her question. "You didn't ask," He chuckled. "And I really thought that by now everyone knew." It seemed like information that everyone would have known by then.

"I will make sure in the future, that I tell you something like that." He added as he finished off his coffee. 

Anger Management | Rebecca & Holden

[holden-richards-blog]

Holden sipped his coffee, thankfully happy for the strong nature. He had asked for a carafe  to be brought to him. Thankfully they had one and now he sat silently drinking his coffee, watching the people around him with a slight smirk on his features.  His eyes glanced up in the direction of the noise as he heard a door slam. Somehow he was not surprised to see that it was the woman he had met a little while ago. He glanced down at his coffee for a moment before she spoke to him. "I know." He said simply to her, implying that he had already known that there was no way off this island. 

He pushed the carafe of coffee a few inches towards her, "There is more in there if you want some." He offered with a smile. She seemed rather angry, something that he could relate to if he chose to but at the moment he didn't want to. Emotions got in the way of judgement and that was not what he wanted at the moment . Besides some small part of him found her anger entertaining. 

"If you had wanted to know that the bridge was out I could have told you that." Holden added before he took a sip of his coffee. He had his fill of the drink for the moment and was only drinking it for something to do. The thought of the bridge being out once more forced him to pull out his cell phone and see if it had service yet. He let out a sigh, stupid company. All he wanted to do was to make a phone call, was that too much to ask for?

Anger Management | Rebecca & Holden

Shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker and TITS. Rebecca threw the front door open with so much enmity that it cracked loudly against the wall and bounced back almost hitting her in the face, prompting her to angrily shove at it all over again. Goddamnit, was this entire fucking island out to get her? First the fucking bridge – What the fuck kind of shittyass island was this that there was only one way off? – and now the door and Jesus Christ. She didn’t even bother to take off her jacket, she just stomped back into the dining room for another cup of coffee because she was going to fucking kill someone. Coffee to sooth the nerves, calm the all-consuming anger. This was bullshit. Bullshit.

Jace and Collins had the good sense not to talk to her — and certainly not to follow her – and Rebecca didn’t spare a second thinking about where they’d gone. They were their own damn fucking people and she wasn’t their Mom. Collins could go lie face down in the street for all she cared.

This time she noticed Holden immediately as she stormed into the room. Great. Goddamn. She tossed her shoulder bag onto a chair and went straight for the coffee, completely ignoring him. It wasn’t personal. Right now she really didn’t care what he was thinking, though, or if she was offending him. She cared about coffee. That’s it. Just the coffee. Fuck everything else. Her mug filled halfway and stopped. No. Nope. This wasn’t happening. The pot wasn’t empty. No. Rebecca shut her eyes and mentally counted to ten, but NOPE STILL ANGRY, and it was only her desperate need to drink the stuff that kept her from launching the cup across the room.

“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT I AM GOING TO KILL EVERYONE ON THIS ISLAND IN THEIR SLEEP MOTHER FUCKER.” She abruptly turned to Holden. “Well you can kiss your fucking nerd convention goodbye, the bridge is out, we’re all fucking stuck here.”

She tossed the coffee back like a shot.

[holden-richards-blog]

Why? Why was he still making the effort? Because he’d told himself he would, because he’d promised Jack he’d make more of an effort to converse with people even though the first thoughts that popped into his head tended to be murderous, or pushing people far enough away that they wouldn’t come back. Pushing people away was easy, was second-nature to him. It kept him from having to remember mundane things, from having to deal with their problems as well as his own, and kept him from the potential of actually feeling anything. They were the worst. Feelings. They tended to turn his world upside down, and provided just enough chaos to his organization. Jack had told him that it was okay, that it was normal. For weeks, months even, he’d argued how wrong he was. Until it hit him that the other man was right, and that it was okay and they could be slotted into their proper place just like everything else in his life. If only the same could be said about conversing with people. Real people.

Charlie just wanted to separate himself from the conversation, move forward with his nightly routine, and hope at some point his thoughts shut down enough that he could actually attempt to get a few hours sleep. He didn’t want to stand there, didn’t want to deal with some – some – guest who thought they knew everything there was to know, who thought they knew exactly what sort of person he was. No one knew who he really was. Well, no one other than his husband, and that was only because they’d been together for far too long, and somehow Jack had chipped away at the mask he kept up for the rest of the world. No one else knew. No one else needed to know. As long as they thought of him as some shut-off, workaholic all would be fine.

But the calm nature of this – this – man was putting him off, had him wondering how one could remain so calm. Charlie had been nothing but terse, and yet this other person had yet to break, to snap back like he deserved. Everyone eventually snapped back. Everyone but this person. How? Why? What made him remain so calm? Was it on purpose? Was he trying to goad him into cracking even more? Was this some sort of test? No, he reminded himself, not everyone was out to push his buttons, to see just how far they could take things. They weren’t like the people he’d grown up with, the ones whom he’d gone to school with and seemed to enjoy pushing him farther than anyone else. This was just some random stranger, someone forced to the inn because of mother nature, and nothing more. As long as he remembered that he would be fine. Perfectly fine.

“And you’ve seen all types of people?” He was trying, trying so very hard to keep the annoyance from showing in his words. Charlie knew it was only a matter of time before it seeped back in. He hated being asked stupid, mundane type questions, questions where people knew the answers already. At least this person hadn’t made the mistake of assuming he was just like everyone else. The last person who’d done so – well he remembered yelling before being led off. It was all of a blur. So many things lately tipped him one way or another, and maybe he needed some sort of break or vacation. No, what he needed was to put as much distance between himself and the damn island, put it behind him, and find something else that might actually give him the joy he used to have, the kind he still had when he thought about his husband. Unfortunately, there was no way off the island, and that is where the problem lay.

“Because,” he started to explain before stopping mid-thought. Why had he bought the damn inn? Initially it was because he thought he could quickly turn it around and sell it at a tidy profit. And when that didn’t happen, Charlie thought if he brought Jack along that between the two of them they could figure something out, and make it so the damn place actually made money instead of constantly sucking it out of its meagre coffers. He had hopes for the place. Once. When he’d initially bought it. But over the years he’d grown to hate the place. So much that he was more than willing to actually put it up on the market and fuck everyone in the process. It was his money that had saved the damn place, and if anything he would have more of a say than his missing partner.

“I normally know a good thing when I see it,” he explained, shifting from foot to foot, “this time I may have been mistaken.” And that was putting it mildly. Mistaken or not, he was stuck with the Mockingbird Inn. Charlie had told his partner he wouldn’t sell the place. Yet. That didn’t mean he wasn’t about to start instigating some changes. The way it had been run wasn’t the way it was going to be run going forward. They just needed to survive the chaos that was the bridge going out and he would start work on making certain that the stupid place would finally turn some sort of profit. If not, he was getting out now before it sucked not only himself but his family dry as well.

“Why am I not surprised,” he muttered as the other man went on about being a lifelong student, “philosophy? Really? You couldn’t find something a bit more challenging to do?” What the fuck did one do with a degree in philosophy? Charlie hadn’t even bothered looking at the course descriptions when it came to looking at different electives. None of them had ever interested him, and when he found himself looking at philosophy he immediately skipped it in the hopes that something else would pique his interest. Nothing ever had but that might have had something to do with the fact he’d been extremely picky about just what courses he wanted to take. Were they not involved with his major, he rarely decided to take them.

“Students of life? If you haven’t learned everything you need to know by now, I have serious doubts that you will ever learn it,” he said, resisting the urge to ball his fists up, “you actually believe that? That you’re constantly learning?”

As much as Holden wanted to calm his mind, wanted to relax to go to sleep for a few hours he found that the person across from him had his mind speeding up, had his thoughts wandering to places that he had not planned on in the least. This was supposed to be a moment for him to just clear his head and go back to bed and sleep instead it seemed to turn into a conversation that neither was extremely wanting to take part in but neither of them had seemed to walk away from yet. Holden had plenty of questions that he wanted to ask, wondered about a few more things but there seemed that there was going to be less and less time to get them answered. 

"In truth, I really have seen all sorts of people, if I am going to be honest." Holden offered with another easy smile. He was  not overly young that people would think that he was not a professor but sometimes people did not think with more than two percent of their brain. The sunglasses on the top of his head were so close to getting pushed back onto his nose. He wanted to look at the man, study his features, watch his thoughts if they showed on his features, it was hard to do when he did not have his glasses on. Holden watched carefully as the man answered his question. There was something to be said how the man stopped short when he was about to answer.  It made Holden draw a conclusion that he was either about to hear the complete truth about his reasoning or he was going to lie his way through it. 

Holden resisted the urge to tell the man that he was clearly mistaken and should have gone with his first instincts. It was not his money that was being wasted, so the worry was not his. If Holden was in the market he was the type of person that would buy an island such as this, gut the whole thing and make it his personal space. One in the same. That was how he saw it and he was not bothered by it in the least. "If it bothers you so, why not unburden yourself from it?" Perhaps he had been trying and no one would buy the lump of junk, this thought made him smile to himself. 

"I don't know, why don't you tell me." he offered, losing the smile on his features. It was clear that this man was just meant to make him mad for some reason. Holden took the glasses off his head and held them in his hand, there was a good chance very shortly that he would be placing them back on his face. The more that the man in front of him annoyed him the quicker the moment would come. "Mostly because I am overly proficient in mythology and history." Holden added and with a smirk all his own, put his glasses back over his eyes, successfully shutting the man out in his opinion. "I don;t have to act like I believe it because it is the truth, whether your closed off thoughts could see that or not but there is something about you in my opinion that screams that you don't get out much, interact with people, do you?" Holden took in the man's stance the way he seemed to stand, the way he held himself, it figured into the opinion that he just voiced. 

I Wear My Sunglasses At Night | Holden & Charlie

[holden-richards-blog]

A run. A run sounded perfect right about then. A run would mean he could just allow his thoughts to run free, he wouldn’t have to deal with interacting with people, and he wouldn’t have to think about how much he hated the damn island. It didn’t matter what time it was, or that it was still raining outside. Just putting as much distance between himself and the inn was all Charlie wanted. Distance was perfect, it meant not having to deal with anyone or anything. It meant not thinking about the husband he’d left asleep in bed, or the daughter in another room, probably asleep as well. Though if he were honest with himself, he was more concerned about his husband waking up to a lonely bed. He loved Jack, and god did he try to keep everyone happy. But he wasn’t the best at lying, though he certainly did try. The man brought light into his world, and yes he was selfish, who wouldn’t be with someone like Jack, but he was no parent, even though he tried. It all boiled down to his hatred of dealing with people.

No one understood why he hated having to deal with people. No one could understand that before Jack he’d been happy and content with just himself and his dog. Life had been good, and Charlie had been happy. Not as happy as he currently was, but happy. He would have been content had life not changed. But it had, and he was fine with it all. Until that damn storm, forcing him to deal with the inn, and making certain everyone had a place to sleep, and wondering just where his damn partner was so he could yell at her for making him do her damn job. He didn’t buy into the inn to do his job, and her job. But no, she’d disappeared and he’d been forced to handle it all and why did life have to force him into situations he absolutely loathed. Why couldn’t it just have left him be, let him follow the path he’d initially set himself before being dragged off of it by friends, by Jack?

“Excuse me?” He said, his eyes snapping back up to meet the other man’s before it hit him that he was walking around the inn in the middle of the night, “oh, right. Sorry,” he added, wishing he hadn’t bothered with wandering the inn. Insomnia or not, Charlie knew that people were probably going to be wandering the halls at all hours of the day or night, and if he decided to indulge his desire to walk when he couldn’t sleep he would most likely end up coming face to face with some of the other guests. Not something he could deal with. He could always start running, considering it was what he’d used to do at home when he couldn’t sleep. Run until he couldn’t, forcing his body and mind and his thoughts to free him for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.

The only problem was the island. He very rarely spent time that wasn’t work there, and he had no idea just what it would be like. Charlie knew he could try running in the day and see if it would work for a new nightly habit. Or he could find something else, something that didn’t involve wandering the halls, running into guests, forcing himself to be civil and social when he was anything but. He wasn’t sure what but there was bound to be something he could do. And if there was he would find it. Somehow. Who knew how long they were going to be stuck on the damn island, and if he didn’t have something to do when he found himself unable to sleep he would drive himself, his husband, and anyone else around him crazy. More so than he probably already did.

“Because I look like the sort who would willingly come to this place,” he muttered, shoving his hands even further into his pockets, “no not a guest. Try owner of this – this – inn. And no, you’re not the only one who wants that damn bridge fixed. I hate this damn island, and were it not for the fact I work here I’d see no reason to actually spend time here.”

Charlie hated this, hated having to talk to people, hated having to pretend he was okay when in reality he just wanted to find some dark shadow to hide in. The man’s flippant attitude wasn’t making things any easier. If anything it was driving him crazy, forcing the desire to release the tension he could feel building beneath the skin to the surface. He hated people like this guy, hated those who thought everything was one, big, fucking joke. They reminded him too much of those classmates from college, the ones who thought they could just skirt by and have everything handed to them. He’d worked too damn hard to get where he was and nothing said he had to deal with such assholes. Numbers and his work never treated him so flippantly.

“So what is it you do,” he asked in an attempt to do what everyone else did and be social, “and don’t say teach. I gathered that much from your colleagues. You also look a bit too old to be a damn student.”

This was not the walk Holden had imagined when he had left his room a little while ago. He had only wanted to work off some of the energy that was built up in his system, just enough so that he could close his eyes and sleep for some amount of time. At this point he would be thrilled if it was an hour. His mind worked in mysterious ways and as much as he respected that and needed his mind, he was just tired and in general this sometimes made him less of himself and more of a cranky person that started to show his age a bit. He had truly not expected to run into anyone and now part of him was silently wishing that he hadn’t.

It was rare that Holden felt that way but maybe it was the hour maybe it was the lack of sleep or maybe it was just the feeling he got from the person that was currently standing across from him. Either way, his opinion was the same no matter how you spun it. He hated this island, far more than he thought that he would and would give just about anything at the moment to get himself home. Unfortunately he had yet to come across anyone that was willing to help him in that plight. Perhaps he would have to formally start asking people instead of hoping that something would fall into his lap.

He wondered if anyone in his family had noticed that there was anything wrong yet. He thought that they knew that there was a conference, he thought that he had heard that one of his Aunt’s or Uncle’s was on a board for something to do with the conference.  Then again with his Father it had once taken him several days to notice that Holden had shaved his head bald. It had been an experiment on Holden’s part to see exactly how long it would take to be noticed by anyone other than the nanny and the maid. It had taken exactly four days, three different dinners together and a prompt from the staff to happen, it was then that Holden had thought that he was sure that he could have left the house and not returned for several days and no one would care or notice. Unless of course you were the nanny and she was required to care, it was her job.

He had only confirmed what he had already known, he was on his own. Yes, his Father provided a home, food and somewhere to sleep at night but that seemed to be all some days, most of them really.  If he thought back enough, it seemed to be why he was content for the most part with himself, why he never looked for that permanent relationship with someone else. He didn’t enjoy people in his space, his personal bubble. He liked things at arms length, it was easier to see and understand from his point of view.

He filed away the thoughts of his Father for the time being, he had spent many other nights with his mind full of the things that he did not understand when it can to him and tonight was not the time for it.  This man in front of him did not seem to like the point that he made about being out as well. Perhaps he did not like to be proven wrong? He had not been expecting the small apology that he received right after that as well but then again he was not even sure it was in the least sincere.  Holden decided that his best course of action was to nod his head once in understanding, after all it was rather early in the morning and to argue would mean that they would just wake other people in the process.

He didn’t want to go through all of that.  “You don’t look like any particular type of person,” Holden added with a shrug of his shoulders, “All types of people like all types of things.” He added before he heard the man’s next comment.  The owner. Interesting. One would think that if they were the owner of this place, he would be a little more friendly but Holden reminded himself once more that it was the middle of the night . He also pointed out to himself that when it came down to it, as the owner he should be pleasant no matter the time.  He wondered if he should point this out to him?

The man’s comments had Holden thinking once more, his mind racing in several different directions at once.  He doubted that this man would want to play twenty questions with him. He got the feeling that really he had a short amount of questions he was going to get answered if he wanted them, unfortunately there was a slew of questions in his mind he wanted to ask.

That desire to once more push his glasses back down onto his nose, arose within him. So Holden asked the question that seemed the most obvious. “Then why be the owner of an Inn on an island that you clearly don’t like?” This one question seemed to make the most sense, he could not understand why he would do something if he clearly did not like it. If people had a choice why would they choose to stay somewhere that makes them miserable? The more the thought about it was that a question for the man across from him or was it a question he should be asking himself?

He could easily answer the question that was being asked of him. “I am a professor of philosophy.” Holden answered without problem, it was what he did for a living. Of course he had loved mythology and history more, had even planned to go into a career in them but that had not happened. His own father had been a professor of philosophy, it was why he was where he was now. Even as he had grown had on some level wanted to please his Dad, if he had done so he would never know because his father had never told him. “I am still a damn student, as you prefer to say,” He nodded his head towards the man. “In the sense that I choose to always continue to learn something but a formal student I have not been for a long time. Aren’t we all students of life in a sense, I for one would never claim to be a master of life to think that there is nothing that I could learn from it.” He smiled easily again as he finished speaking. 

I Wear My Sunglasses At Night | Holden & Charlie

[holden-richards-blog]

People were not, and never would be, his forte. They demanded far more than he would ever be willing to give, and asked more of himself than he was comfortable with. If it were possible, he’d avoid social interactions, the uneasiness that constantly settled over him not something he could just dismiss.

Charlie knew he couldn’t. Not with his partner hiding within the confines of the inn. He’d been lucky that the girl at the front desk had handled any and all questions people had in regards to rooms, rates, and their options off of the island. If she hadn’t, he knew he would have felt the panic that he normally kept at bay bubble up to the surface.

No one on Vanderbilt Island knew that about him. In actuality, very few people in his life knew about it. Charlie had always preferred keeping that little piece of information secret, remembering just how cruel people could be when they found out someone was vastly different from everyone else.

Things only changed slightly when he left for university, and then when he started working. People didn’t care that he preferred keeping his nose buried in a book to socializing with everyone over the proverbial water-cooler. As long as he did his job, he could become a hermit for all they cared. And he was fine with it. More than fine actually.

His friends, on the other hand, had always had other things in mind. They’d constantly asked him to come out, and each and every time he’d said no only seemed to fuelled their determination. When he’d finally given in they dragged him to some sort of club. Not the type of place Charlie tended to visit, and the night proceeded to go downhill from there. They didn’t know about his difficulties when it came to talking to people in public. No one did.

Hence why he kept to himself. Being in a building with nothing but strangers, the only thing he could do was find an out of the way place where he could just sit and watch. He also pondered just how to murder his friends for dragging him out to a place that forced him to do the one thing he hated to do.

And then he met Jack, and somehow the night had started to look better. Of course, he’d made quite the ass of himself, remembering that it had taken a couple of drinks before he could actually talk with the man without tripping over his own words. It was strange how comfortable Charlie had felt that night. No one had ever made him feel at ease, let alone someone he’d just met.

But Jack had this way about him that no matter what was going on, no matter what his mood, he would always feel – calm – around him. It was why he made the perfect anchor, and why he wished he was there with him instead of asleep in their room on the floor above them. Jack would know how to converse with someone without wanting to murder them, or without at least feeling like there should be some sort of hole there to swallow him up.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, having to converse with someone at three in the fucking morning, this particular person was wearing sunglasses. It was dark out. There was absolutely no need for them. And yet, genius here was wearing them. And Charlie had to figure out how to converse with them without giving it away that being social wasn’t his strength. It would spread like wildfire, and was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

“Do I look like the type who go wandering around hotels at three in the morning?” Again with the sarcasm, and Charlie knew Jack would chide him for it. He didn’t want the man’s life story, or whatever excuse he was using to be up and about at this time of morning. All he wanted was to tire his brain to the point he could go crawl back into bed, and enjoy what few hours they would have before they would be forced to get up and start their day.

“No, I can’t,” he explained, shoving his hands back into the pockets of the sweatshirt he’d thrown on before leaving. It had been one of Jack’s that he’d nicked early on in their relationship. While it no longer smelled like his husband, it still gave him a sense of comfort. And given his current circumstances, he would need all the comfort he could get.

“Aren’t you with one of the colleges?”

Now that the other man had raised his sunglasses, Charlie could get a better look, and wondered if he was one of the people he’d seen when he and Jack walked through the inn looking for Amelia. Not that he was paying attention, but he did manage to hear snippets of people talking about some sort of conference.

He also remembered the girl at the desk mentioning people looking for rooms as the hotel across the bridge for some conference had run out of rooms. If this particular idiot was one of them, he definitely wanted to put as much space between himself and the other man as possible.

“Or am I thinking of someone else,” he added, fidgeting with something in his pockets, a sure sign he was out of his element. At least Jack would be proud, he mused, remembering that his husband used to push him to talk to strangers more and not just hole himself up in his office. He definitely wasn’t in his office, and this was definitely a stranger. Now he just had to make certain he kept up with their level of conversation and everything would be okay.

Holden needed to get off this island, that much was blatantly apparent.  The question was how and when, thw two questions that had been rocking around his head since he had seen the bridge give way. Karma though seemed to be paying him back for some unknown deed that he was unaware of. There was no other reason that he could think of that would still have him stuck on this island with no cell service, awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. He wanted the comforts of his home, at least then he knew that he could walk the halls of his house at three in the morning and not worry about running in to anyone else.

 Holden resisted the urge to push his sunglasses back down onto his nose. He often did this to his family, it was his own personal way of shutting them out, his social cue to let them know that he was no longer listening to the things that they were trying to tell them. It thoroughly annoyed his Aunt Mildred, which was why he took every chance he could to use it in her presence. She had a habit of preaching to him at every chance that she could about how he should have been married five years ago and how he should be working on making his second child already. None of those things interested him in the least, he enjoyed the company of woman but was more than happy to have his space back when they left. This thought process also made the second argument of children, rather pointless. There was no point of one without the other, even in Holden's twisted personal ideals on the subject he still thought that a child should have two parents to raise them. He had first hand knowledge that being raised by one parent did not always benefit really well. 

Holden watched the man that was now standing across from him, just studying him. Of course this practice was done much easier with his sunglasses on but he left them off for the time being. THe man's sarcasm had Holden wondering silently why he had thought that keeping calm was a good idea. Holden smiled, "To be honest," His voice even, calm. "Well technically you do look like that sort of person, seeing as you are standing in front of me at the moment." He thought the question was rhetorrical seeing as he was walking around in the middle of the night  but perhaps the man just needed to be reminded of that. He only nodded his head when the man confirmed that he could not sleep either, he wondered what kept him awake for about a moment before he let the thought ago. 

"I am." Holden nodded his head, partially hating that was what he was associated with. He didn't mind his work, sometimes he even enjoyed it but he supposed there was worse things that people could associate him with. "You are thinking of the right person." He added with another smile, despite the hour, he wbas polite. "Are you a guest as well, waiting as patiently as possible for the bridge to be fixed?" He could not be the only person at the Inn that was impatient for the bridge to be fixed so that they could leave. He wanted to check his phone again, even though he was sure that there would be no change. Besides the fact that he set the thing to beep when service had been found. He noticed how the man had stuffed his hands in his pockets, usually a sign of nervousness. What was there to be nervous about? 

I Wear My Sunglasses At Night | Holden & Charlie

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

Back in college, after having read the 400-page textbook for his Introduction to Psychology class in its entirety, Aiden foolishly believed that he was already an expert of the field, and was able to read and predict other people’s behaviour. So when he first met the TA in his Philosophy class, this Holden guy, Aiden was sure that he could psych him out, or basically read his mind. Alas, after weeks of borderline-stalking behaviour of his part, to his crushing dismay, Aiden realized that he had overestimated his ability to ‘read’ people, especially when it comes to a reserved intellectual like Holden. He then decided to drop his psychoanalysis goggles and became friends with the man instead.

Flash-forward a good number of years to the present, right there, in the middle of the lounge of the Mockingbird Hotel, Aiden was still struggling to figure out if the professor was happy or disappointed to see him. He noticed the older man’s brief, blank gaze out the window before shifting his focus back onto Aiden. One would consider it a breach in the rules of ‘social cues’, but Aiden dismissed it as one of the professor’s quirks. “Oh, like a philosophy conference?” Aiden asked with a raised eyebrow, seconds before catching on to the silliness of his question. Of course it was.

“Ha. Yeah. Obviously.” Aiden’s eyes widened in exaggeration in reply to the man’s statement. “Crazy storm last night, huh? Now we’re stuck here, without any form of communication for god knows how long.” He complained with an annoyed shrug. “But it’s such a relief to see a familiar face!” the blogger added cheerfully as he offered Holden a warm smile and a friendly hook of his arm around the professor’s shoulder. “No, I’m just here because I’m thinking of going into the Inn-running business…” Aiden said sarcastically before lowering his voice to give the actual answer to the question. “Of course I’m here for a story, Denny. You know I don’t do vacations…’specially Not after my last mis-adventure in England.”

Holden wanted to go home, it was bad when the voice in his head was starting to sound like a whining child. He ignored it for now because there was no way that stomping his feel was going to help him. Instead he focused his attentions on Aiden. He had known Aiden for a bit of time now but he was somehow surprised to see him. Though perhaps he wasn't and a familiar face was always a good thing. "Yes," Holden said with a smile. "There was a conference I was supposed to speak at but it seems it has been canceled." Holden realized that he had repeated himself but he let it slide as his eyes strayed to the window once last time, he remembered the bridge washing away. He quickly returned his attention back to the younger man next to him. 

He knew deep in the back of his mind that Aiden was not there on a vacation, he highly doubted that the he ever took one. He was curious to know what the story was.  It could not be the weather, as that was a circumstance that they were all a part of. He didn't remember Aiden being a storm chaser of sorts either way. "Whats the story?" Holden asked, his voice lowered so that others around him would not hear. He did not know if he would actually told what it was but at least he could ask. 

Figuring he would distract him for a moment, "What exactly did happen in England?" He asked with a smile. His attention fully on the younger man. He had never gotten the full story and now was a better time than ever. It was clear that they were not going anywhere for a while, it seemed like it would be even longer before he got a signal on his phone. At this point he was no longer sure which was going to happen first. 

"What Are You Doing Here?" || Aiden & Holden

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

OOC Note:

I swear I have not fallen off the face of the earth. I am sorry to anyone I owe replies to, its just been a crazy couple of weeks and hopefully over the next few days I will get all caught up again. Hugs all around.

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

[holden-richards-blog]

You have no idea what you’re talking about Marc. No idea at all. I do have something I care deeply about, so why don’t you take your idiotic fantasy and find someone who actually gives a damn.

[holden-richards-blog]

I did. And no we haven't. Holden Richards.

And It doesn't hurt to indulge a little fantasy now and then.

Seriously, Marc? They. Are. Just. Things. They are easily replaced. Get a grip. And you. Whoever you are. Do you really want to indulge his little fantasy?