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30 July 2009 @ 01:50 am
[sunday_reveries] You should not return to the past...  
(You should not return to the past to revive an old relationship)

It was dinnertime at the Thorne penthouse. Boxes of Chinese take-out were set up on the counter and Rupert sat across from his daughter at the table. The television was on in the other room and Eleanor could hear bits and pieces of the evening news if she strained her ears to listen. Using her chopsticks, she brought a bit of shrimp and mango to her mouth and she listened to her father’s half of the phone-call he was currently having.

“You’re killing me, Gil,” Rupert insisted as he took a bite of fried rice. He leaned back in his chair and dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Fifteen percent.”

Gil. Eleanor knew the name; Gillian B. Loeb, the commissioner of Gotham City’s police department and a corrupt man. The perfect sort of man for men like Rupert Thorne to make friends with, really.

“You’re a meat eater,” Thorne sighed.

“Mr. Thorne?” Jason White stuck his head into the room.

“I’m on the phone, White,” Rupert scolded, putting a hand over the speaker.

The bodyguard shifted, “I’m sorry, Sir, it’s just… you have company.”

The heavy-set man considered this and moved his hand away from the speaker to continue his conversation. “Gil? I’m going to have to call you back.”

He put the phone away into his jacket pocket and looked to Jason. “Well?”

“It’s Mister Edward Morgan.” Jason explained.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and made a sound of annoyance in her throat. Her father and the bodyguard both turned their attention to her.

Rupert leaned stood and moved around the table to kiss his daughter’s head. “I know, Eleanor, that you and Mister Morgan are not on the best of terms right now but whatever personal problems the two of you are having? He is still an associate of mine and business comes first.”

“I know,” the brunette conceded.

“Good.” The older man looked to Jason and nodded, “Show him in, White.”

Eddie Morgan moved into the penthouse, shoulders back and head up. “Mister Thorne.”

“Morgan.”

“Eleanor,” the man greeted.

She looked up from her plate and combed back a bit of her hair. “Eddie.”

“You look wonderful,” he managed with a strained smile.

“Thank you.” Eleanor stood and took her dish to the sink before crossing to kiss her father’s cheek. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Rupert smiled and nodded, “Thank you, pumpkin.”

Eddie’s eyes followed the Thorne daughter until she disappeared behind the door. He could have sworn she was watching him, too.

+++

Eleanor had very little interest in her father’s business. The various details were none of her concern as long as he was safe and in no legal trouble. She didn’t even entertain the idea of listening in on Rupert’s conversation with her ex-boyfriend though she would have been lying if she said she wasn’t curious about whether or not her name had come up.

She sat, cross-legged, on her bed and scrolled through the music stored on her iPod. Something by Lady Gaga was currently playing and she hummed along with it before reaching for the novel on her nightstand.

There was a knock on her door and Eleanor looked up. She pulled out one of her ear-buds and tucked a bit of dark hair behind her ear. “Come in.”

The door was opened and Eddie Morgan stepped inside. “Hey…”

“Hey.” She set her novel aside and looked up at the man.

He moved to sit beside her on the bed. There was a minute or two of silence before he spoke. “I miss you.”

The brunette threw a dubious look in his direction and looked back to her iPod.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “I can’t sleep. I keep turning over and expecting to feel you. I keep waiting to hear your voice when the phone rings. S’driving me nuts.”

She sighed, “You miss a cheating whore?”

He frowned and creased his brow. “Look, babe, I said some things I shouldn’t have. I was drunk. I didn’t mean it.”

“If you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t have said it,” Eleanor argued. “You raised your hand to me, Eddie.”

Eddie winced. “El, honey, you know I would never, ever hurt you.”

She turned her head away from him, even as he moved a hand to cup her chin.

“You gotta believe me. It’s you for me,” the man crooned. “I shouldn’t have ever walked out that door and I need you to take me back, baby.”

“I don’t know if I am ready to do that.”

He sighed in frustration and dropped his hand. Eleanor took it up in hers and stroked the skin with her thumb.

“Persuade me,” she told him.

Eddie’s lips crashed into hers and Eleanor raised a hand to touch his cheek.

“I will never leave you again,” the man whispered into her ear as he guided her down.

In that moment, she wanted to believe him.