Post by dsb on Feb 8, 2018 2:40:18 GMT
3:37 AM, Morning after Thrills, Chills, & Spills
Cosworth family household
San Antonio, Texas
Yoona Park steps out of the Uber that had driven her from the airport, a duffel bag over one shoulder and her newly won EurAsian title belt over the other. She notices the porch light is on, and she begins shuffling towards the front door, the rubber soles of her UGG slippers lightly scraping against the cement driveway with every step. Just before she’s about to knock, the door opens and the imposing frame of Camille’s father fills the portal.
YOONA PARK
ANTHONY COSWORTH
A towering mountain of muscle, Anthony Cosworth’s superhero physique makes it clear where Camille got her athletic genes from, though his slightly greying hair and the rugged creases on his face indicate a man gracefully entering middle age. The two of them silently look at each other from across the threshold, neither making a sound, and after the silence spins out for several seconds, Tony steps forward and envelopes Yoona in a tender hug.
“Welcome home, Yoona,” he says into the crown of Yoona’s skull as he dips his head slightly, and he feels the tension melt from Park’s body as her bag and belt clatter to the porch when she returns the hug. “I’ll get those. Cammy’s waiting for you at the breakfast table. She’s got something she wants… needs to talk to you about.”
Yoona sighs into the man’s chest, then she disengages from the embrace, kicks off her shoes, steps through the door, and pads towards the kitchen. She takes maybe four steps before Camille’s father gently grasps her on her left shoulder.
“Wait a sec, you got a little something on your…”
Tony gestures towards his own cheek for a couple of seconds, then he produces a handkerchief from his back pocket which he uses to scrub off a few flecks of paint that still remained on Park’s face.
“Thanks, Buff Dad,” Yoona says through a small, weary smile, receiving a nod of acknowledgement before she turns and makes her way to the rear of the house.
As she walks through the hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen, Park spots her girlfriend dressed in flannel pajamas and sitting at a round, oaken table in the breakfast nook. A couple more steps, and Yoona sees that Camille is sitting in a wheelchair -- the same one she had come home in a month ago -- and Park feels like her stomach has dropped through the floor. Cosworth has already spotted her, however, so rather than quietly slinking away to their bedroom, Yoona joins her girlfriend at the table and takes a seat.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Reunited for the first time in a month, the couple clasp their right hands together, and they sit in silence for a long while as Park looks off the the side to avoid making eye contact.
Finally, Camille says, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Yoona replies in a soft whisper, and then all falls quiet again.
Cosworth waits, and waits, and waits, and when Park finally meets her gaze after a couple of minutes, she says with a chuckle, “I was afraid that was a tattoo.”
The joke puts Yoona more at ease, though her tone remains somber and serious when she explains, “I wanted to look like a killer. I wanted to… to… feel like a killer. That’s the only way I could’ve…”
Her voice trails off and she looks to the side again.
“Well… errr… mission accomplished, I guess,” Camille offers hesitantly. “Slim Reaper is a pretty… uhh... killer nickname, ha, ha, ha… although certain NBA fans might protest since that originally belonged to Kevin Durant. Then again, KD said he preferred to be known as The Servant anyway, so --”
“Servant?” Park snorts as she suddenly snaps to attention and her lips subconsciously curl in disgust. “What the shit…? Was Premature Ejaculator already taken or something?”
That gets Cosworth laughing in earnest for the first time since her injury, and she gasps between guffaws, “Yeah… yeah, Yoona… Premature Ejaculator was already taken…”
It takes maybe half a minute for Camille to regain control of herself, and once the giggles subside, she says more seriously, “But… umm… please don’t do that again.”
Yoona closes her eyes and sighs, then she gives a couple of slow, nearly imperceptible nods.
“C’mon babe,” she murmurs as she stands up. “Let’s go to bed.”
“No, Yoona, wait! That’s… that’s not what I wanted to talk about…”
Park glances at her girlfriend for a moment, then she sits down and wordlessly gestures for the other woman to continue. Cosworth looks rather anxious, however, and she wrings her hands for a few moments before speaking again.
“I… umm… I needed a little… err… liquid courage... for… for this…” she stutters. “Fixed myself a couple of whiskey sours, like, ten minutes before you came in, but I… I guess they haven’t hit me yet…”
The Korean looks at her and blinks a few times as if not comprehending.
“Yoona, just… take a seat, and gi -- gimme a minute or two…”
Yoona does as told, and contrary to a few minutes ago, she stares blankly at her girlfriend, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
“Oh my God, quit looking at me like that… you’re making me feel awkward…” Camille mumbles while continuing to fidget. “Just… say something… anything…”
“How long are you gonna be in that thing?” Park blurts out, her voice unsteady while she flicks her eyes towards Cosworth’s wheelchair.
Camille sighs heavily, “I… I can’t really move my right leg. The docs tell me I’m gonna need… s -- surgery… surgery on my spine to make a recovery, but Yoona, I’m… I’m scared. I’ve never been under the knife before, and they’ll have to put me under, and some people just never get up from that, and… and… that could be me… I -- I can’t… I just can’t…”
“You’re stuck like that forever?” Yoona squeaks out as she begins to hyperventilate.
“Of course not! I mean there’s… there’s no way I’m gonna live forever, right? Ha, ha, haaaa…”
Park’s expression turns hard, almost angry, and she growls, “Cam, that’s not fucking funny…”
“No… No, I guess it’s not…” Camille mutters, rubbing her brow with one hand. “Oh, screw it, here we go…”
Cosworth reaches into the waistband of her pajama pants and retrieves a stack of index cards. She quickly pages through them to ensure that her meticulously prepared speech is in order, then she begins to read aloud.
“Yoona, for the longest time I’ve defended you against the whispers and the rumors. So many people would tell me you’re a terrible person, and I’d always tell them that they’re wrong. That they don’t see the you that I see. That a noble heart beats inside the raging nymphomaniac. I believe this, I KNOW this, because I love you.
“Or at least I did.
“Over the past several months, I’ve seen you become more vicious and violent. Just a few hours ago, I saw you sink to a depth that I previously couldn’t even imagine, and now I don’t know what to believe anymore. I can’t help but wonder what if? What if everyone else is right, and I’m wrong? What if MY Yoona is a beautiful lie, and THEIRS is the ugly reality? I’m filled with all these doubts and more, and yet…
“...I still love you.
“THAT I’ll never doubt, and once I realized that most fundamental truth, what if became so what. It doesn’t matter what else you are as long as you’re mine, and it doesn’t matter what else I lose as long as I have you. Even when you’re on the road to Hell, you’ll never be alone, because I’d rather we burn together than be in Heaven without you. Wherever you’ll go and whatever you’ll be, I’m your Girl of Tomorrow until there are no tomorrows.
“Yoona Park, will you --”
Camille doesn’t get to finish before Yoona cracks an open-handed slap across her face. Just barely hard enough to sting, the blow spins Cosworth’s head to the side and she drops her cue cards in a haphazard mess on the table and the linoleum floor. After nearly a dozen seconds of stunned silence, Camille slowly turns her head back around and rubs her left cheek.
“Soooo.... Was that a ‘YES’ slap or was that a ‘NO’ slap?” she asks tentatively.
“It’s a ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP’ slap,” Park snaps before her tone softens and turns melancholy. “I wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- say no to what you were about to ask, but… I’m not ready. I’m not… not what you deserve… not yet. I will be, I promise, and you’ll know when I am, but not yet.”
She takes a deep breath, drumming her fingers against the tabletop for a few seconds before continuing.
“Cam, I knew what I was going to do to Fiona before I even walked down that ramp, before I even got into the building, and as I was standing over her at the end, all I could think about was how they were gonna ban me and how… how you were…”
Yoona chokes on the words for a few seconds before she forces them out through a sniffling sob.
“...how you were gonna leave me…”
“Oh my God, Yoona…”
“...but I thought… that’s okay. Because if… if I made an example out of Waterford, then no one would dare hurt you again. Cam, all I… all I wanted was to protect you. I’ll crawl in the dark if that’ll let you soar in the light, even if that means --”
Cosworth silently holds up a hand to interrupt Park’s monologue. Bracing her forearms against the tabletop, she pries herself out of her wheelchair and stands, keeping all her weight on her left leg. She takes a deep breath, then with a great effort, she pushes off from the table and straightens her back before gingerly pivoting about on one foot so that she’s facing Yoona. Without a single word, Camille pulls her pajama pants down past her waist and lets the garment pool to a heap around her ankles, revealing her bare legs. While the left is as sturdy and shapely as ever, the right is withered and shrunken after a month’s worth of atrophy, significantly reduced in both girth and muscle tone.
“Look at me, Yoona,” she says sadly. “I think my soaring days are over…”
Cosworth makes her way towards her dumbstruck girlfriend with a series of short, ungainly hops with her pants still around her feet before dropping to a seat in the Korean’s lap. She gently palms the sides of Park’s face, and presses their foreheads together.
“...so you’re gonna have to carry both of our dreams now.”
Yoona pulls back slightly to give a single nod, then she adds, “...but only till you get your wings back.”
That earns Park a chuckle and a peck on the cheek. Then the peck on the cheek turns into a peck on the lips, and soon the pair of lovebirds are locked in a lusty makeout session, indulging in the taste of each other for the first time in a month.
“So… when can I see the ring?” Yoona murmurs during a brief pause in the increasingly hot and heavy action.
Camille’s entirely body abruptly grinds to a halt, her right hand still shoved down the front of her girlfriend’s pants.
“Errrrr… I don’t have a ring.”
“...you were gonna pop the question and you don’t have a fucking ring…”
“Nope. Honestly, I don’t see the point of getting one either, now that you’ve already said ‘yes.’”
“What the fuck?! I didn’t say that! That’s FAKE NEWS!”
“Yeah, whatever. NO RING FOR YOU.”
“...goddamn it, I want a divorce.”
Cosworth family household
San Antonio, Texas
Yoona Park steps out of the Uber that had driven her from the airport, a duffel bag over one shoulder and her newly won EurAsian title belt over the other. She notices the porch light is on, and she begins shuffling towards the front door, the rubber soles of her UGG slippers lightly scraping against the cement driveway with every step. Just before she’s about to knock, the door opens and the imposing frame of Camille’s father fills the portal.
YOONA PARK
ANTHONY COSWORTH
A towering mountain of muscle, Anthony Cosworth’s superhero physique makes it clear where Camille got her athletic genes from, though his slightly greying hair and the rugged creases on his face indicate a man gracefully entering middle age. The two of them silently look at each other from across the threshold, neither making a sound, and after the silence spins out for several seconds, Tony steps forward and envelopes Yoona in a tender hug.
“Welcome home, Yoona,” he says into the crown of Yoona’s skull as he dips his head slightly, and he feels the tension melt from Park’s body as her bag and belt clatter to the porch when she returns the hug. “I’ll get those. Cammy’s waiting for you at the breakfast table. She’s got something she wants… needs to talk to you about.”
Yoona sighs into the man’s chest, then she disengages from the embrace, kicks off her shoes, steps through the door, and pads towards the kitchen. She takes maybe four steps before Camille’s father gently grasps her on her left shoulder.
“Wait a sec, you got a little something on your…”
Tony gestures towards his own cheek for a couple of seconds, then he produces a handkerchief from his back pocket which he uses to scrub off a few flecks of paint that still remained on Park’s face.
“Thanks, Buff Dad,” Yoona says through a small, weary smile, receiving a nod of acknowledgement before she turns and makes her way to the rear of the house.
As she walks through the hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen, Park spots her girlfriend dressed in flannel pajamas and sitting at a round, oaken table in the breakfast nook. A couple more steps, and Yoona sees that Camille is sitting in a wheelchair -- the same one she had come home in a month ago -- and Park feels like her stomach has dropped through the floor. Cosworth has already spotted her, however, so rather than quietly slinking away to their bedroom, Yoona joins her girlfriend at the table and takes a seat.
CAMILLE COSWORTH
Reunited for the first time in a month, the couple clasp their right hands together, and they sit in silence for a long while as Park looks off the the side to avoid making eye contact.
Finally, Camille says, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Yoona replies in a soft whisper, and then all falls quiet again.
Cosworth waits, and waits, and waits, and when Park finally meets her gaze after a couple of minutes, she says with a chuckle, “I was afraid that was a tattoo.”
The joke puts Yoona more at ease, though her tone remains somber and serious when she explains, “I wanted to look like a killer. I wanted to… to… feel like a killer. That’s the only way I could’ve…”
Her voice trails off and she looks to the side again.
“Well… errr… mission accomplished, I guess,” Camille offers hesitantly. “Slim Reaper is a pretty… uhh... killer nickname, ha, ha, ha… although certain NBA fans might protest since that originally belonged to Kevin Durant. Then again, KD said he preferred to be known as The Servant anyway, so --”
“Servant?” Park snorts as she suddenly snaps to attention and her lips subconsciously curl in disgust. “What the shit…? Was Premature Ejaculator already taken or something?”
That gets Cosworth laughing in earnest for the first time since her injury, and she gasps between guffaws, “Yeah… yeah, Yoona… Premature Ejaculator was already taken…”
It takes maybe half a minute for Camille to regain control of herself, and once the giggles subside, she says more seriously, “But… umm… please don’t do that again.”
Yoona closes her eyes and sighs, then she gives a couple of slow, nearly imperceptible nods.
“C’mon babe,” she murmurs as she stands up. “Let’s go to bed.”
“No, Yoona, wait! That’s… that’s not what I wanted to talk about…”
Park glances at her girlfriend for a moment, then she sits down and wordlessly gestures for the other woman to continue. Cosworth looks rather anxious, however, and she wrings her hands for a few moments before speaking again.
“I… umm… I needed a little… err… liquid courage... for… for this…” she stutters. “Fixed myself a couple of whiskey sours, like, ten minutes before you came in, but I… I guess they haven’t hit me yet…”
The Korean looks at her and blinks a few times as if not comprehending.
“Yoona, just… take a seat, and gi -- gimme a minute or two…”
Yoona does as told, and contrary to a few minutes ago, she stares blankly at her girlfriend, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
“Oh my God, quit looking at me like that… you’re making me feel awkward…” Camille mumbles while continuing to fidget. “Just… say something… anything…”
“How long are you gonna be in that thing?” Park blurts out, her voice unsteady while she flicks her eyes towards Cosworth’s wheelchair.
Camille sighs heavily, “I… I can’t really move my right leg. The docs tell me I’m gonna need… s -- surgery… surgery on my spine to make a recovery, but Yoona, I’m… I’m scared. I’ve never been under the knife before, and they’ll have to put me under, and some people just never get up from that, and… and… that could be me… I -- I can’t… I just can’t…”
“You’re stuck like that forever?” Yoona squeaks out as she begins to hyperventilate.
“Of course not! I mean there’s… there’s no way I’m gonna live forever, right? Ha, ha, haaaa…”
Park’s expression turns hard, almost angry, and she growls, “Cam, that’s not fucking funny…”
“No… No, I guess it’s not…” Camille mutters, rubbing her brow with one hand. “Oh, screw it, here we go…”
Cosworth reaches into the waistband of her pajama pants and retrieves a stack of index cards. She quickly pages through them to ensure that her meticulously prepared speech is in order, then she begins to read aloud.
“Yoona, for the longest time I’ve defended you against the whispers and the rumors. So many people would tell me you’re a terrible person, and I’d always tell them that they’re wrong. That they don’t see the you that I see. That a noble heart beats inside the raging nymphomaniac. I believe this, I KNOW this, because I love you.
“Or at least I did.
“Over the past several months, I’ve seen you become more vicious and violent. Just a few hours ago, I saw you sink to a depth that I previously couldn’t even imagine, and now I don’t know what to believe anymore. I can’t help but wonder what if? What if everyone else is right, and I’m wrong? What if MY Yoona is a beautiful lie, and THEIRS is the ugly reality? I’m filled with all these doubts and more, and yet…
“...I still love you.
“THAT I’ll never doubt, and once I realized that most fundamental truth, what if became so what. It doesn’t matter what else you are as long as you’re mine, and it doesn’t matter what else I lose as long as I have you. Even when you’re on the road to Hell, you’ll never be alone, because I’d rather we burn together than be in Heaven without you. Wherever you’ll go and whatever you’ll be, I’m your Girl of Tomorrow until there are no tomorrows.
“Yoona Park, will you --”
Camille doesn’t get to finish before Yoona cracks an open-handed slap across her face. Just barely hard enough to sting, the blow spins Cosworth’s head to the side and she drops her cue cards in a haphazard mess on the table and the linoleum floor. After nearly a dozen seconds of stunned silence, Camille slowly turns her head back around and rubs her left cheek.
“Soooo.... Was that a ‘YES’ slap or was that a ‘NO’ slap?” she asks tentatively.
“It’s a ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP’ slap,” Park snaps before her tone softens and turns melancholy. “I wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- say no to what you were about to ask, but… I’m not ready. I’m not… not what you deserve… not yet. I will be, I promise, and you’ll know when I am, but not yet.”
She takes a deep breath, drumming her fingers against the tabletop for a few seconds before continuing.
“Cam, I knew what I was going to do to Fiona before I even walked down that ramp, before I even got into the building, and as I was standing over her at the end, all I could think about was how they were gonna ban me and how… how you were…”
Yoona chokes on the words for a few seconds before she forces them out through a sniffling sob.
“...how you were gonna leave me…”
“Oh my God, Yoona…”
“...but I thought… that’s okay. Because if… if I made an example out of Waterford, then no one would dare hurt you again. Cam, all I… all I wanted was to protect you. I’ll crawl in the dark if that’ll let you soar in the light, even if that means --”
Cosworth silently holds up a hand to interrupt Park’s monologue. Bracing her forearms against the tabletop, she pries herself out of her wheelchair and stands, keeping all her weight on her left leg. She takes a deep breath, then with a great effort, she pushes off from the table and straightens her back before gingerly pivoting about on one foot so that she’s facing Yoona. Without a single word, Camille pulls her pajama pants down past her waist and lets the garment pool to a heap around her ankles, revealing her bare legs. While the left is as sturdy and shapely as ever, the right is withered and shrunken after a month’s worth of atrophy, significantly reduced in both girth and muscle tone.
“Look at me, Yoona,” she says sadly. “I think my soaring days are over…”
Cosworth makes her way towards her dumbstruck girlfriend with a series of short, ungainly hops with her pants still around her feet before dropping to a seat in the Korean’s lap. She gently palms the sides of Park’s face, and presses their foreheads together.
“...so you’re gonna have to carry both of our dreams now.”
Yoona pulls back slightly to give a single nod, then she adds, “...but only till you get your wings back.”
That earns Park a chuckle and a peck on the cheek. Then the peck on the cheek turns into a peck on the lips, and soon the pair of lovebirds are locked in a lusty makeout session, indulging in the taste of each other for the first time in a month.
“So… when can I see the ring?” Yoona murmurs during a brief pause in the increasingly hot and heavy action.
Camille’s entirely body abruptly grinds to a halt, her right hand still shoved down the front of her girlfriend’s pants.
“Errrrr… I don’t have a ring.”
“...you were gonna pop the question and you don’t have a fucking ring…”
“Nope. Honestly, I don’t see the point of getting one either, now that you’ve already said ‘yes.’”
“What the fuck?! I didn’t say that! That’s FAKE NEWS!”
“Yeah, whatever. NO RING FOR YOU.”
“...goddamn it, I want a divorce.”