True Blood
Burning House Of Love

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 2 USERS: B+
YOU GRADE IT
Show Me How You Do That Trick

"If you don't mind, yes. And no garlic." (I have to admit that was going to be my next question.) They smile and he leans back; they have struck a deal. The pieces of her soul she thought she'd lost forever are arranged in a precise new order; they are redrawing maps of territory long-ago relinquished and they are creating a new way of living. They are engaging in each other. He sits back and smiles at her, full of love. All we ever give each other is just like this: pieces of our souls, pieces of our bodies. There's a reason it's called making love. "Is it always like this?" she asks, and he smiles with infinite tenderness. After a certain length of life there is no regret, just an understanding of how big the world really is: "No, it is not." And that is what it means. They have created something wonderful, tonight, and all the benefits of that, the pieces of their souls they have knitted back together, it stands apart from them. No ritual is empty.

"I never thought I'd be able to..." It never seemed entirely realistic that the reason she kept this to herself, so close to the vest, was because men are beasts and she could hear them. You can learn the horrors and the beauties just as easy watching their bodies and their eyes, anybody knows that. Even Bill. "I am honored that you chose me." The loveliest sentiment; the continuation of her princess earlier in the evening, lost and lonely, soft and tired and running out across the fields in a gown. The thing we want them most to understand: what we've given, what it cost, how long we've held it tight. And her face falls, because that was a choice, but it wasn't the first choice in history. That was taken. She remembers Bartlett briefly, prisoner of war in a vampire's lap, but not briefly enough, and Bill watches her face, not old enough yet to see that face and not be stricken by what it says and what it means.

Back to Heaven. She sits in the tub, knees pulled to her chest, covering what she's got; curled in the warm water of the tub. She compares her experience to other girls' and boys', all the different ways they have to try and take away your body from you. "It was just touching," she says, which is heartbreaking. As though it's anything but asymptote. As though she has claim on only so much pain and no more. As though she doesn't deserve the gift she found tonight. Like her pain is less worthy. "Did you tell anyone?" Sookie nods. "Gran. She ran him off and never spoke to him again." Her voice is sickened, for Adele as much for anything: "Her own brother." But brothers, they can disappoint you. Just because you draw the lines of family like so doesn't mean anybody else has to follow your lead. We all have lines.

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True Blood

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