The next morning, Ana wakes up in Grey's hotel suite and compares him to a courtly knight, despite the fact that he brought her to his place instead of hers and took her pants off. He responds with "Dark knight, maybe", which would have been the perfect time to say "I am Batman" and swoop out of the room in a cape that we didn't previously know he was wearing. But that would be too much fun, so instead he informs her that "if you were mine you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled". I'm amazed that they can actually see anything at this point, what with all the goddamn foreshadowing going on here. He gets all cross at her for not eating before going on the lash the night before, saying "You need to eat. [...] It's drinking rule number one." ACTUALLY Christian, I think you'll find that eatin' is cheatin' is drinking rule number one. So shut your damn billionaire mouth.
Anyway, in the meantime Anastasia's subconscious has magically taken on a life of her own, as earlier on when Christian showed up at the bar after tracking her ass down, she was "figuratively tutting and glaring at me over her half moon specs." Clearly half moon spectacles aren't just for Santa and Professor Dumbledore any more. However, now the thought of boning Christian has her subconscious "doing her happy dance in a bright red hula skirt". She may or may not be playing a ukelele, it's not completely clear.
|Ana's subconscious could look like either of these people at any given moment. You might not recognise her until it's too late. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!|
It's a clunky and irritating literary device that just makes Ana look like she has split personalities, all of whom are just as fucking annoying as she is. Her subconscious is mostly a disapproving character in her head, wagging her finger at her and telling her to cop on, even though the whole idea of your subconscious is that you're unaware of it. Hence the SUB part. Clue is in the name there, E.L.
Here are the other things that her subconscious does throughout the book:
- stares at Ana in awe
- screams at her, arms folded, leaning on one leg and tapping her foot in frustration
- whines at her in a sneering mood
- has emigrated or been struck dumb or simply keeled over and expired (if only)
- swoons and passes out somewhere in the back of her head
- purses her lips and mouths the word ‘ho’ (THREE TIMES)
- glares at her over her wing-shaped spectacles (She must have fancied a change from the half moon ones. Either that or the author hasn't actually READ HER OWN BOOK and decided that continuity is for squares.)
- glares at her, wagging her long skinny finger, then morphs into the scales of justice (No, really.)
- screams at her like a harpy
- runs, screaming, and hides behind the couch (WHAT FUCKING COUCH?)
- peeks out from behind the couch, still registering shock on her harpy face
- quails in the corner
- nods sagely, a you’ve-finally-worked-it-out-stupid look on her face
- quakes at the knees
- is furious and Medusa like, with hair flying and her hands clasped around her face like Edvard Munch's The Scream (LOOK AT ME, I KNOW STUFF ABOUT ART N' CULTURE N' SHIT)
- whistles with her hands behind her back, looking anywhere but at Ana (even though she can't actually look ANYWHERE because your subconscious is NOT A PERSON)
- anxiously bites her nails
- has her Edvard Munch face on again (Jesus fucking Christ)
- relaxes and then collapses, slumped into an old battered armchair (what happened to the couch?)
- frantically fans herself
- finds her Nikes and is on the starting blocks (I can't remember why)
They have breakfast together, he harasses her again about not eating enough, there's some lame sexual tension (mostly him growling some bullshit about how she should stop biting her lip because he wants to do that and her practically creaming herself at the thought) and then he announces that he's not going to touch her until he has her written consent to do so. Which doesn't seem to strike Ana as the right moment to make her excuses and get the fuck out of there. When he mentions that he doesn't normally sleep in his bed with anyone else, and that her sleeping beside him was a novelty for him, Ana says: ""Not having...sex." There - I said the word." SERIOUSLY? Congratulations Ana, you're a 21 year old woman who can say the word sex out loud. Hang on there till I find you a FUCKING MEDAL.
Despite this rule that he's just announced, as they're leaving he grabs her in the lift on the way downstairs and shifts the fuck out of her, "his erection against my belly", murmuring "You. Are. So. Sweet. [...] each word a staccato". Which. Is. Both. Hilarious. And. Really. Stupid. He stops kissing her when the doors ping open, and the fact that he can sufficiently regain his composure makes her wonder "Is he totally unaffected by my presence?" Well Ana, he LITERALLY just wore the face off you and LITERALLY just had his boner shoved against you, so yes, I guess he's totally unaffected. You clown.
Between her going for a shower and him jumping her in the lift, Ana says "oh my" seven times over those eight pages. She is CONSTANTLY saying "oh my", to the point that I started to picture George Takei every time she did while simultaeneously wanting to strangle her with my sock.
Appearances of the phrase "oh my": 71
Right after the lift, we meet her inner goddess. Her inner goddess is the free-spirited dancing gymnast gobshite to her subconscious's spectacle-wearing judgemental librarian, and "sways in a gentle victorious samba" after the surprise kissing attack. This is not the last we will hear of the inner goddess. Not by a long shot.
I realise I haven't moved that far along in the story with this post, as I got a bit sidetracked by being angry at her stupid subconscious and the outrageously idiotic idea of it. I will endeavour to get this over with a little better in future posts, although I can't promise anything as the next one features all the fucking moronic things her inner gobshite does.