Extreme_vampirelover_hill
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Summary
В это время до Города-на-Горхоне уже не едут электрички. Осенью солнце рано садится, а последний поезд уходит ещё раньше. Остаётся лишь ждать автобуса с легендарным номером, который только раз в два часа здесь и проезжает.
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“I wanted to get in, you wanted to leave, and both of us are stuck here now,” Rubin simply shrugged. “Shall we walk together?”
By the Graces, was he bolder now? Rubin had never been the shy type — being reserved was different. He’d taken when he had wanted. [...] He had never been this bold about wanting (taking) company, but he had so far taken the Architect’s when offered.
“Will you have me?” Peter asked.
“You’re not any worse company than I have had.”
“Oh, you!” Peter barked out one of his glassy laughs. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” [...](And maybe he was lying a little, for it probably would get Rubin somewhere, if he meant it hard enough, and if Peter felt he meant it hard enough. Peter had painted him, hadn’t he? This was not always flattery — but in that moment, in these hands, between these eyes and these four walls, it had been. Maybe they were even, now.)
They had been staring at each other. Maybe Rubin had read this thought on him as plainly as someone else did on the page.Men meet. They have little to tell each other that words can convey, speaketh flesh in their steads.
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Пётр болен и ранен; Пётр всё ещё пьян, Пётр робок, как дитя: мнёт в пальцах край простыни, морщится, когда сосульки грязных волос мажут ему по шее и по плечам. Он вряд ли слышит, что с ним говорят, вряд ли понимает, кто здесь и почему здесь он. Возможно, где-то в своей голове он уже выстроил пропорции Рая и Ада, двух воронок, соединяющихся между собой, словно половинки песочных часов. Где-то в своей душе он надеется, что это последняя пропорция, которую он выстраивает.