Hi again! Happy New Year to everyone! I'm sorry this is late!
This chapter starts with a request that someone made to see into Dom's head. The italics chapter is an interlude that is out of place, but it wouldn't fit anywhere I tried to put it.
This has gone through a few a few catastrophes and I'm lucky it has made it to this point. It's more stream-of-consciousness stuff.
Please let me know what you think. Oh, and I don't own anything.
The Dom Interlude:
Dom watches Letty sleep, and his gut twists. The stinging of his eyes could be the imminent sign of tears, blurring the moonlight across her face.
If he were honest with himself, he would say he's leaving her so she is safe.
But that's only the half of the truth; the other half, he doesn't like to think about.
Letty is growing, changing, in a way he never imagined she might. The casual, along-for-the-ride girl he knew is evolving into something unknown, and he isn't sure he's strong enough to handle it. And he knows that's all he would be able to do: hold on for dear life and live to tell the tale of the ride.
Whether it's his ego or his upbringing, Dom doesn't know. He does know that if he stays and holds on as tight as he would really like to, everything will fall apart, for them, and for her. She will no longer be his wild-ass Letty, but a simulacrum, trying to fit her larger-than-life self into the little mold he is comfortable with, and then she will hate him. Better she should hate him a little now than to hate him more later.
He wonders that the wooden door closing behind him sounds like a wooden door, not the death knell he thought it would be.
(Ich Tut Ihr Weh)
The day of reckoning that Letty both wanted and abhorred has come.
She's sitting on her hostel bed, across from Dom. He's looking at her like she's simultaneously the answer to his prayers, and the unrepentant sinner.
Why didn't she call him, he asks.
Is she supposed to traipse in with a cop's wife on his lap, she responds, eyebrow raised. Letty realizes she is hurting and not objective, but damnit, the whole situation is so fucked up.
Dom has the grace, if that's the term, to look a bit ashamed.
So he thought she was dead. That's great, she taunts. It only took two weeks to audition her replacement?
Letty isn't just upset. It's a maelstrom of hurt, love, pride, shame, and all the words that should take place, and shouldn't, in love. Does she love him, she wonders as she watches him? 'Probably' is all she can add up to right now, with a side of being very, very angry with him. But that's fair, she decides.
So now what?
Letty declares in a moment of clarity, now you get to convince me that you love me, and that you deserve that I love you. In her own head, Letty wonders where this is coming from. She's never doubted, never thought it would be like this between them. But it feels right, and Letty is nothing if not in the moment. Dom sighs and looks at her like, she imagines, he's wondering if it'll be worth it. But as he stands up and gets her phone number, and then dips his head to kiss her like she hasn't been kissed since the night he left, she knows her Dom-interpretation skills are just rusty.
What does she want, she wonders later. Sitting alone in a crowded, garishly painted hostel room in Valencia, Letty gives herself a moment to ponder this. Her body, she is sure, wants Dom. It remembers every finger he caressed her with. Her heart yearns for Dom. But her mind is reserved; it wants to have Dom's head on a silver platter, while his dead tongue professes loving syllables to her.
Letty isn't sure that's possible, but it's what she wants. Vengeance and love, in that order.
Love comes in the form of Dom coming every day, asking to take her out. Vengeance comes in the form of shutting the door in Dom's face. Love then returns every time Dom does, asking her to a new occasion. Letty wonders if she's made Dom work this hard since their first date.
It's at least two weeks before Letty gives in, and she's surprised by where Dom starts to take her.
Three nights ago, it was dancing along La Rambla; they made the locals' heads turn. Two nights before, he took her to a quiet, moon-lit dinner along the Mediterranean beach. Last night, they went to a matador spectacle.
Tonight, it's to dinner and a Gaudi exhibition. She is pretty sure Dom is losing his mind.
Sipping sangria at an inexpensive Spanish tapas bar, Letty surprises herself when she boldly asks if Dom wouldn't rather visit the erotic museum just up the road.
Dom replies with a hint of colour that he didn't want to press too fast.
Letty mentally and emotionally checks in with herself and realizes that while it may be the sangria talking, she doesn't mind touring the museum.
Which turns out to not be what she expected.
Sure, it's all educational and shit, but Letty does wonder if the Gaudi display would be more, ahem, inspiring. Seeing old Victorian-era photos of porn is not really her idea of enticing.
Apparently it's up to her to fill in the lesson plan: a few more drinks at a late-night bar, and she and Dom are feeling pretty content. So she brings him back to her hostel and frankly, has her way with him.
Which in no way solves any of their problems, and creates quite a few more, but she's on her own turf, and feels at least somewhat empowered when they wake up the next morning.
At least he's still there, she thinks quietly and a bit jadedly when she cracks open one eye the next day. They're cramped on her one-person bed, but he's holding her like and honestly, Dom would be cramped anywhere. He's so big, Letty wonders if he fits into her life anymore.
Aye, there's the rub.
Does Dom, truck-jacker and love of her former life, fit in with the new Letty, superspy and pretend-international socialite?
The irony, Letty decides, is the key bitch in this sarcastic movie. Now she's the one thinking of leaving? How round-circle is that?
In the end, she decides to stay in bed a bit longer. She's craving coffee and hot eggs, and there's a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that does both well, and any conversation with Dom won't be interrupted.