dagny | Vignette: Where she was.

Vignette.
This bit of writing details where Dag was when shit hit the fan. If you would like to be privvy to this information ICly, please send me a +mail, otherwise, no one would know this. Unless she opens her big mouth, that is.

"Where have you been?"

She should have known. Should have turned around right then and there, but she didn't. Couldn't. She had to be there, had to see him. Had to. Stupid girl.

"Been out of town to clear my head."

A good answer. Not a lie, not really. Can't tell the complete truth, though. Can't. Shouldn't. Won't. Shouldn't even BE here, but she is, but she won't tell him where she's been. It's against the rules. Shit, being here is against the rules, if she has no permission. But she had to go, for a little while. Had to.

"You didn't even say goodbye. You have a cell phone, don't you? You didn't call at all.."

Couldn't call. Couldn't say goodbye. Those aren't things she could have done, because they go against the rules.

"My family came and got me, and I lost my cell phone, otherwise I would've.. I'm sorry, Geoff. I wanted to, but.."

Not a lie. Not really. Mostly true. This time.

"Jesus, Dag. I was worried.."

Something's not right. He doesn't seem as angry as he would have been. As angry as he should be, or as worried as he thinks he was. What's going on?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry.. Are you okay?"

He's not okay. She can tell. He's thinking about something and doesn't want to say it. He has that LOOK on his face again.

"Dag.. Maybe.. I don't think you should come here anymore."

...oh. So..

"..you have someone else."

She is smart. She is quick. Perhaps, too smart and too quick for this situation, because he looks surprised. He did everything to hide her presence. Only now, Dagny will realize that the photos of them are missing from the walls of his apartment. The posters she had made for him - the ones of the photos she took, the ones he liked. They're gone, too. In their place, there are ugly paintings that lack any skill. They are 'new art', and they are all marked with the same little fake-Japanese insignia, scrawled in girly handwriting inside little red paint boxes.

"I didn't think you liked painting." She says to him.

"You were gone, Dag. You didn't say a word to me, I thought we were over." He looks exasperated. She hates that. He sounds defeated. She hates that, too.

"Well. We are now. Quite thoroughly, as it appears. Um.." She swallows. She does not feel like crying. She can't tell what she wants to do, except - "I'm going home. You won't see me again. I'll be out of your way so you can.. you know. Explore painting some more. Have a nice life, Geoff."

And she's leaving. She's turning, sliding on her coat and reaching for her bag when his hand is on her arm. She does not want to be touched, and he learns this too late. She has never struck him in any way, so her fist at his jaw has him looking surprised. She, too, is shocked, but cannot show it in this moment. She is hurt, but she can't show that, either. So she glares.

"Don't. Touch me." Her bag is on her shoulder, and the door's slam is echoing down the hallway as she leaves. He won't follow her. He's still trying to figure out what happened and why, so he stands in his kitchen, where they talked, holding his face and feeling the bruise being born plum and green on his cheek. She hits hard, and now he knows this as well as she does.

The air is crisp outside, and she is walking. Her pace is a little hurried, but then again, so is everyone's in the city. She turns the corner and makes for the outskirts of town. Back home to her family.

Back to the farmhouse.