plantfood: (:|)
It's only Hal with him on the beach today; the other dogs tend to stick close to Sam and Sam is with Lucy, but Hal, somehow, she's become his dog. He never knew her previous owner, knows only that he and River were close, and that, at least, makes him think that, whoever he was, he must have been a good guy. But he doesn't know what he was like, doesn't know what it is about him that makes Hal want to stay by his side most of the time, but he finds he doesn't mind. Before the island he was certainly not a dog person, preferring the company of his small cat, but things change.

The island changes things.

It's early evening, the sun is still at least a half hour from dipping behind the trees and Mathias doesn't want to move from this spot. He's gone for a dive, his scuba equipment is sitting on the sand beside him and he's still dripping, but he makes no move to reach for his towel. Sometimes, he knows, awful things happen to the people here. They lose their loved ones and people die, the island isn't a safe haven from that, but at this moment, he's happy to be here. He's happy to be alive.

There are plants in the hut he shares with Lucy and Sam, only two, one in the main room and one in his bedroom, but they're there. Even a few months ago he might have had trouble sleeping with them there, but no longer. Back home, he's dead. Acceptance of that has been a long time coming, but he thinks it's finally here. He's dead. Henrich is dead. Stacy is dead.

But not now and not here.

Smiling faintly, he reaches over and strokes Hal's fur, then lifts his hand to wave to the figure coming down the beach toward him.
plantfood: (smile)
Although he isn't prone to overindulging, Mathias is impressed with his own restraint when presented with so many drinks from home. It's been several hours now and he's on his third and last beer of the night, though he knows he could find any number of brands he's particularly fond of and suspects he could drink himself sick on all the things he misses from home. This third beer, however, is just enough and he's pleasantly buzzed, warm and flushed, feeling better than he has in some time.

The past few weeks haven't been hard. They've been good on the surface. He has friends -- good friends, people he's come to love -- and there's a beautiful woman who seems to like him. A woman he enjoys spending time with, someone Sam has taken to fairly well and Mathias knows that these are all good things and yet he can't stop and settle for even a moment.

He can't stop thinking about Veronica.

Things are good on the surface and he's always been good at making sure people only ever see the surface, but beneath that things aren't good. They aren't bad. But they aren't good and he finds himself feeling more and more guilty with every passing day.

The beer, though, has helped. For the moment, he's not thinking about much of anything except the music and the food and the beer. He's wearing a smile as he leans against the wall, his tie pulled loose and the top button of his shirt undone. The bottle is dangling absently from his fingers, though he hasn't forgotten that it's there, and when he sees Sookie, the smile only grows. He might feel guilty most days, but right now, it's just nice to see her.

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Mathias

November 2020

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