there was something so well honed about richard's indifference that it failed to ever seem as such, he appeared more like the conscious dismissive embodiment of some indignant aesthetic. it wasn't just the miskempt hair, or the wildishly out of style purple shirt- buttoned two holes short of what seemed even remotely reasonable-, or the eclectic arrangement of mismatching jewelry. no, it was the way he sat, something in his pose - so disinterested in defending himself- that was the root of the ambivalence that exuded from richard.
And as expected as it all was, they were brothers after all, thomas thought the dark tips of his fingers a bit excessive.
Thomas sat at the small two person table, balanced himself in the chair that was not nearly as stable as it had appeared upon his entering, and opened with that.
'ink stained fingers?'
Richard shrugged, seemed to consider the two or three defeated cigarettes in the ash tray.
'oh, have you defended into apathy? that's new.' thomas admitted.
there was already run and ice thrown into the cups in front of them, not particularly good in quality, but the day was one of those rare ones- the temperature lingering just where the body remained on the cusp of sweating- and perfect for rum, whatever the pedigree. too few these days, thomas thought to himself.
'apathy? no. not apathy, I have simply passed through caring. to what comes next'. answered richard.
'how does that work?' thomas said back, creeking his neck to spot the waitress and signal for two more.
richard leaned forward, elbows to the table and looked at him, ludicrous purple cuffs limping down to the hinge of his arms, in that quiet intense way richard seemed to look at every damn thing.
'its like swimming, or more like swimming while you dive,' he began to explain, the broke his gave to look off at something over thomas's shoulder, ' as you dive'
'and swim' thomas broke in, earning him a glare.
'yes, yes and swim, you know the pressure increases the deeper you go, yes?' the drinks arrived and thomas shook his head in confirmation, 'there comes a point where the pressure increases such that it becomes impractical to describe one's self as diving, ' richard quickly inserted 'or swimming' in order to prevent thomas's playful contribution, 'because after a particular depth the primary thing are doing at that point can't be accurately described as swimming or diving, even if you are doing those two things, for primarily you are being crushed. that, you see, is where i am. having passed through to the point where i can't be called caring, anymore than the aforementioned diver could be described as swimming, the more accurate description of my state would be that I am being crushed. crushed by all my caring.'
thomas applied his most serious tone. 'I do see. Oh, i was quite mistaken indeed, this isn't apathy at all. its melodrama'.
'well we both know thats not new,' richard responded with a dramatic hand flourish and a conceding retreat, reclining back in his chair. thomas met richard's eyes and richard flashed him one of those rare smiles, sweet and new, like a smile that hadn't seen light in some while. he almost didn't notice what the dust that seemed to break away from it, from its lack of use, he so enjoyed the novelty of its compete genuineness.
'wait. have you ever been diving?' thomas asked without stopping to think.
'no, of course not, the sea- though lovely- terrifies me of course, as it would any sane person. but i find a theoretical knowledge of being crushed in its depths functional enough for my own purposes.'
'of course you do.' thomas hid his bemused smile behind his cup. 'so you're being crushed.' richard grunted 'by the emotions, all of them.'
'yes'
'and adeline?'
richard pulled his hands through his hair and seemed to struggle without how to answer.
'she unwell.' eventually he answered.
'unwell?'
'unhappy.'
'why is that?'
'me'
'oh and what about you is making her unwell?' thomas corrected himself 'unhappy?'
'my lack of caring'
Thomas looked at him, there was no part of richard that seemed at all bothered by the contradiction of his comments. richard was never in a state of hypocrisy or insensibility. and for a moment thomas really did admire him, that ability to live his life moment to moment by a physics and reason all his own. oblivious or disinterred int he rules and standards of normalcy that seemed to force everyone else to live in some manageable way.
'why don't you care?'
'no one knows their own heart less than i know mine,' richard answered to say he didn't know.
'and how much of this do you think she will take?'
'oh she will never give up.'
'why do you think that?' thomas inquired, not at all incredulous at the statement.
'because adeline is an optimist.'
'and you are a pessimist?'
'pessimist? me? god no.' he scoffed, then clarified, ' i am a romantic.'
'what is the difference between a romantic and an optimist? seems to me that being a romantic would necessitate a good bit of optimism.'
richard seemed to stare deeply into thomas, for what felt like a long period of time, but thomas knew intrinsically was but a moment.
'yes, it would seem that way, but at they are core they are different, and so produce very different outlooks. adeline will never give up, because she is an optimist, and she believes that love can last forever. but i am a romantic, and if a romantic knows anything, they know this one thing: that every beautiful thing eventually dies."
