[ Again, I'd like to thank all those who wrote to me and expressed their support... I honestly wouldn't keep writing this damn thing if it wasn't for you guys. This chapter is kind of short, but I promise the next one will be longer. I hope you like this one, and aren't too disgusted by the onslaught of emotion in it. - winks - Love to you all! ]
Awake. I keep my eyes closed for a moment as I savour the moment of slow return to consciousness; that place where you know you are simply alive and don't have to deal with any of the responsibilities that come after you open your eyes. I can feel the sunlight sift through the blinds in my room, playing across my bed in golden stripes and dance across my face. I lie there unmoving for a moment, simply feeling my room exist around me, and enjoy the weird feeling of being disconnected and out of the stream of time. But after a while, my limbs start to feel heavy and my mind begins to gear itself up, reminding me of all sorts of things I'd rather not remember, and I have to open my eyes to distract myself, to ward those thoughts away.
"Die," I whisper feelingly as I snap open my eyes, imagining those memories lingering in my head to shrivel and burn as the sunlight streams into my consciousness, searing my thoughts. For a moment it seems to work; the pain of the light makes me wince, and a hand to wearily raise and shield my vision, my eyes squinting shut against the onslaught. I sit up slowly, feeling the slabs of sunlight drip down my face as I move, and when I come to an upright position, I am mercifully ensconced in a pocket of blessed shadow. Stabbing Westward fills my room; I snarl and reach over to the offending stereo and jab mercilessly at the faceless buttons until I hit stop or pause. I'm not sure which one it is, but it makes the music stop and silence to once more reign, which is all I ask for. Maybe that's why I had such a riotous night of dark dreaming.. the music that so heavily connected me with Josh had been playing all night.
Josh.
"Fuck," I groan softly as his name floods my mind, and drop my head into my hands, my fingers pulling through my hair and raking it down over my face in a curtain of obsidian and turquoise, hiding from the brutish realities of his name. I can feel the tears trying to start again, and I am about to wonder why exactly, when the memory of him and Ethan kissing last night comes stabbing back, and I whimper again, the sound taking on a more desperate tone. 'You deserved it, Silver.." I tell myself this amidst all the anguish and feelings of betrayal assailing my heart, trying to find some shred of sense in the sordid, senseless situation.
I lift my head and look around after a moment, wondering what time it is. The clock on my stereo says three o'clock, and I sigh softly. Slept the whole day away, pretty much. Something nags at me as I think this, and I frown softly. Didn't I have something to do today? I know my mother is out for the next couple of days, out at some cottage somewhere with some guy, so it can't be anything to do with her.. oh, shit. Josh's party thing. I feel moisture make my cheeks feel alternately cold and hot at the same time, and I rake at the tears relentlessly, fed up with myself. 'STOP IT.' I demand this angrily. 'Just. Get. Over. It.'
Well, there's no way I'm going to the party.. no chance in hell. I'd probably break down as soon as he opened the door, or at least explode and run in after Ethan and beat the shit out of the guy. So, no way. Just be graceful. "Learn to ENJOY losing," as Johnny Depp once so eloquently remarked in one of my favourite movies, "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas". At least I didn't lose to a girl. I try to grin weakly at that, try to force myself to at least be thankful of that. Madison'll probably be pissed though.. but there's nothing I can do about that. She probably knows the whole situation anyway.. I'm sure the lack of my presence at the end of the night must have stirred up at least a few questions. But as for Josh.. I can't help but wonder what he thought. He probably saw me watching them..
No, stop it. Bad, evil, negative thoughts. They won't do you any good. I sigh angrily and flop back down on my bed again, gathering the sheets around my body, feeling the silk slide across my bare skin with the slow moves akin to water, coating my body with a cool, slick sensation that is more sensual than just about any other feeling I've ever experienced. I sigh again, but this time it is more comfortable, more resigned and neutral. I stare up at my ceiling, straight at a picture of The Crow; a HUGE poster that takes up a good chunk of my ceiling, displaying Brandon Lee in all his gothic, angry beauty, retribution singing in the slender manifestation of his hands, and purely erotic power emanating in sensually dangerous waves from his shoulders and arms. 'The best dressed guy in this room,' I think to myself fondly, my eyes tracing the familiar but never boring vista of his features, following down to his trim waist and ambiguous crotch. So much like Josh in his build, I can't help but think, and sigh again.
"So, what do you think, Josh?" I address Brandon beseechingly, my gaze locked on his unmoving dark one. "Am I just pathetic?" I stare at the poster for a while, but no answer is forthcoming. "Figures," I mutter. What it figures, I don't exactly know, but it seems the thing to say. I stretch slowly, arching my back off the bed as I do, my movements unconsciously feline in their languid, rippling actions. The sheets whisper their way down my chest as they are displaced, singing songs of vague, disjointed sensuality as they pool around my waist, leaving my bare chest to confront the room and its air-conditioned frigidity. I don't know when I removed my clothes, but as I absently look around for them, I hear the faint but unmistakable sound of the door chime downstairs.
I sit up again and listen: yep. Someone at the door. I roll my eyes and debate getting up. One of my mothers constant suitors, I know this without even going to my window and looking down. I wonder if she even bothered to cover for herself before she left with that other guy. Probably not. What other people think isn't usually her concern when it comes to her happiness. Or lust. Whichever comes first. The bells chime again, and I heave a sigh again. Insistent fucker. Maybe I SHOULD go down. Open the door naked and scare them off. Go to the kitchen and drip ketchup down my body, grab some of my mother's lingerie and open the door, waving the underwear around wildly yammering something about "Dogs fucked the Pope, no fault of mine.. What? We have climate control in this alligator? Orders from Captain Zeep.." and see what happens. I grin helplessly imagining this. Talk about LSD revival! I know what would happen though. I'd be grounded for seven lifetimes and then some.
So I decide to go downstairs, but only wrapping myself in my sheets. Screw the bastard if I scare him; serves him right for making me get out of bed. As I stomp out of my room and make my way down the stairs, I half-heartedly contemplate finding some fishhooks and hanging them off my nipple rings to give the guy a weird thrill. But we don't have any fishhooks, I lament, and head to the door. I hold my sheets tightly around my waist as I pull it open, one hand behind my back to hold them together.
The sunlight streams into the corridor, managing to completely blind me as I try to see who stands before me, their silhouette looking perversely beautiful, despite my misgivings about them. I blink foolishly for a moment, and then as my vision clears somewhat, I take a step back, feeling as though my heart has just been yanked out of my chest. I feel it thud erratically as I move, and my whole body seems to wilt for a moment, my gaze riveted upon the person before me. Never before have I felt so perfectly balanced as I do at this moment: held flawlessly between the strong urge to break down into tears and slam the door and the other raging desire to fling myself into their arms.
Josh stands before me, one arm up above his head slightly as he uses it to lean against the wall, the other hand lodged in the pocket of his dark blue jeans. I stare soundlessly at him for a long moment, emotions beating and screaming in my chest, and me not sure which to let lose first, if any. Anger flashes, then utter despair, then complete and blinding love, then howling desire.. all seeming to be sucked in by the green power of his glowing gaze. His hair is swept back into a ponytail held together with a purple silk scarf, some of the strands of his shimmering hair escaping the scarf and framing his feminine features with aching precision and faultlessness; a border of walnut and caramel around a pristine vision of semi-androgynous perfection. He is wearing the dark purple shirt that I love; tight around his finely sculpted chest and obscuring his hands with the long, flowing, graceful sleeves.
His eyes are trained upon mine, his expression unreadable but overlaid with a fine veneer of fatigue, a barely perceived shadow that seems to cast a tight, unhappy look to his face, and a pale trace to his skin. His gaze flickers downwards for a moment, and I shift slightly in embarrassment, remembering that I am clad in next to nothing, and standing in such a state before him. I can feel the emerald abuse of his eyes sweep my chest and then lift back up again quickly, flustered, to find my eyes for an awkward moment. Do I see the faint, rose-coloured stain of a blush bruising his cheeks, or is it the angle of the light behind him?
"Hey," He says, the word almost a whisper.
He clears his throat after a moment, and I nod dazedly at him.
"Hi," I return, staring like a simpleton at his beauty.
Then, the image of Ethan's lips upon those lush, perfect ones, and I drop my gaze painfully. I turn slowly, and walk inside, leaving the door open for him to follow.
"Come in," I say as I go, moving out of the sunlight and into the security of shadow.
"Thanks," he replies quietly, and steps in after a moment, closing the door behind him slowly, the click of the doorknob like a gunshot in the stillness of my house.
"What's up?" I ask him calmly, trying to make my voice sound light and genial.
I look at him as I say this, and frown slightly as I see the look of consternation upon his face. He watches me for a silent second, and then looks down, his fingers clasped in front of him and writhing around each other anxiously. When he does speak, it is in a voice so hollow and strange that it raises goosebumps on my arms and makes a shiver course through my body.
"Where did you go last night?"
I blink and swallow, looking down as well, tightening my grip on the sheets.
"Home," I say, and then turn to go up the stairs. "Um, I'll be back down in a sec. I just.. have to change."
He stares at me and looks about to speak again, but instead nods mutely, dropping his gaze away again. I start to head up the stairs, and then pause half way up, looking down at him.
"You can come up, if you want. I know I always feel more comfortable in my room than any other place in the house.. its not so sterile."
WHY did I just say that? Of COURSE he isn't going to come up! I have to change, and I obviously need my room for that. And besides.. he's probably come here to bitch me out or something, so I sh-..
"Is that okay?" His voice is still quiet, still stunning in its gentle beauty, and the gaze that accompanies it makes me shiver, even though the thoughts of Ethan aren't far away from my mind at all.
I nod and offer him a half-smile, and turn to go up, listening to his soft footfall on the stairs behind me. Once we reach the top of the stairs, I turn to the right and use my foot to kick my door open, walking over to the closet and searching for some clothes. I hear him enter and the sounds stop by my bed. I look over my shoulder and see him standing there, looking down at my sheet-riddled bed.
"Sorry about the mess," I explain, looking back to my clothes. "I'd just woken up when you came. I thought you were someone else.. one of my mom's boyfriends. I would have changed if I knew it was you.."
He shrugs; I can see his shadow stretch across the room and stop by my feet.
"It's okay.. my room is always a mess."
He sits down slowly on the edge of my bed and I can feel him watching me. The feeling gives me thrills and nervousness at the same time. My cheeks have thoroughly supplicated themselves to the oncoming blush; being naked except for a sheet in front of Josh is an electric experience, to say the least. I hope I don't look too repulsive, I pray silently, finding a shirt and yanking it out of the closet. Grabbing a random pair of jeans and boxers, I turn around again.
"I'll be right back."
He smiles and nods, and I head for the washroom, closing the door behind me. Once inside, I lean against the door and let my breath out in a whoosh, staring at myself in the bright, spotless mirror. Dropping the sheets, I kick them into a corner and get dressed quickly, tugging the shirt over my head as I hear the sounds of music coming from my room. He must have turned my stereo on. I strain to hear; Tool, with a song called "Sober". Sighing at this, I turn on the tap, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste. After I'm done, I quickly pull the brush through my hair and head back to my room.
As I enter, I see him, sprawled out on my bed, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. I falter in my steps and stop to stare, drinking him in. God, he is so excruciatingly beautiful.. why did You have to make such a vision and make him so damn unattainable? Not that I believe in God anyway.. but I feel the need to have someone to blame. I am thinking this as he opens his eyes and looks at me, and he sits up quickly.
"I hope you don't mind," he says, gesturing to the stereo. "I just wanted to see what you had in there.. and it turned out to be a good song."
I smile and nod my acquiescence; standing there uncomfortably as I await him to explain his presence. He lifts a hand to slip around his neck, rubbing the muscles slowly, eyeing me for a moment and then lifting his voice to speak.
"So you went home last night? Why didn't you say anything to us? We spent the whole night looking for you.."
I try not to laugh: SURE you were. But then I frown slightly; something sounded genuine and almost unhappy in his tone. But before I can stop myself, the next remark is out of my mouth, sparking in the air, reeking of spite.
"Ethan too?"
He blinks, and I see him visibly pale. I can feel myself staring accusingly at him, anger beginning to swell as I face the fact of Ethan again. And the fact that he'd led me on.. I know I should stop, should apologize and stop staring at him like this, but I can't..
"Ethan," he murmurs, and I see his eyes drift slowly closed, a look of complete desolation settling over his face with a finality that makes me blink.
Shouldn't he be happy to hear Ethan's name? Shouldn't this be the point in time where he tells me how much of an idiot I am and how much he despises me for what I did? And to fuck off because he's got Ethan now? He begins to laugh slowly, but it is a humourless, angry laugh that echoes eerily around the room and stirs chills down my spine.
"So you saw." His voice is flat, featureless and devoid of life.
He raises his eyes to look at me, and I see a void of such unhappiness in them that I have to look away again for fear that I'll end up being sick or something out of panic. I can't bear to see him unhappy.. WHY is he unhappy? He obviously knows that the kiss is the reason I left, and therefore knows everything that goes along with it too. Maybe that's what's making him upset. Just another pathetic loser who's fallen in love with him.. and now he has to clean up the mess..
"Yeah," I mutter. "I saw." What else can I say?
He lifts his hands to his face and hides in their embrace; I watch him unhappily, the feeling making my limbs jittery.
"And you left." His hands muffle his voice, and he shakes his head slowly.
I nod, and then realize he can't see me.
"Yes." Then: "Why are you here? To find out why I left? Do you actually CARE?"
He stays still for a moment as my voice dies away, and then snaps his head up, the green eyes upon me blistering in their intensity. His mouth falls open slightly, and I take a sudden, frightened step back as he stands, almost like he has been launched off my bed. He approaches me slowly, a furious expression boiling in his angry gaze.
"What the fuck do you mean, do I actually CARE?! What the FUCK do you mean?! Isn't it fucking OBVIOUS that I do?"
His words hit me like thorned waves of heat, slapping me in the face and yanking the breath out of my chest with their livid force. I stammer for a moment, wondering if my heart is going to start again, staring into his blazing gaze. Then, and I don't know why, but a slow fire of anger begins to build in my chest. Maybe I have absorbed some of his anger, but I can feel it start to explode. Images of Ethan, images of Josh's fingers tightening around his, images of Josh's eyes closing in bliss..
"No, it's not obvious! How the hell am I supposed to think that, when one minute you're acting like maybe I've got a fucking chance, and the next you're sucking face with Ethan?!?"
The words were yelled. I realize this after they die away in Josh's taken aback silence, and shame begins to creep up my spine. For Christ's sake, I've just yelled at him. He stares at me, and I gasp as I see the unbelievable glitter of crystalline tears pooling in his eyes. I take a jerky step forward, every bone in my body demanding that I wipe those awful tears away, but he steps back. I feel worse than Judas in this moment as I see his bright, beautiful gaze become stained and sullied with unholy tears that I had made appear. His hands shake as he lifts them to wipe at his tears, his cheeks a bright crimson as he does so.
"A chance," he says thickly, and I blanch. "A chance," he repeats, and his shoulders shake as fresh tears appear.
I nod clumsily, embarrassment and complete humiliation making me feel light-headed and awful. I should go. It's my house.. but I should go. Just fucking RUN. But..
"So because of that, you won't see me? You leave the club, you don't answer anyone's calls?"
His voice is shuddery as he speaks, his eyes wavering and seeming to pour heartache like a waterfall. I speak quietly.
"I.. figured you.. hated me."
He stares at me silently, tears shivering down his cheeks slowly, his whole body swaying back and forth as if he is about to fall.
"Hate you?" The tone is unsteady, tinged with grim humour. "Hate you? How could I ever hate you? Silver.."
His voice trails off, and he pauses to wipe away fresh tears. I just stand there dumbly, not feeling the tears that fall from my own eyes with each one he sheds.
"Didn't any of this MEAN anything to you? Didn't the lawn mean anything? Didn't what I told you? Didn't the dance? For fuck's sake, didn't my goddamned CAR mean anything to you??"
As he says this last sentence, he throws his hands up in the air and turns away, walking towards my window. He stands before it silently, his arms wrapped around his waist and his head bowed, staring through the half-closed slats of the blinds. I hear him struggling for breath, and I stumble, falling against the wall, a hand shooting out to gain my balance. Before I can say anything to THAT, he is speaking again.
"I wasn't sure what you were going to do, after that time in my car. That's why I wasn't talking to you, that's why I didn't stay around you guys. I thought you were going to hate me. And when you seemed to be okay, I was ecstatic! I was so happy.. and then, that stupid balloon fight. I felt so goddamned desperate when you were so close.. I knew I had to move, I knew I had to stop pulling you closer, but when you didn't pull away.. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't believe what was happening, I didn't know if YOU knew what I wanted you to do, I didn't know what you were planning on doing. The whole thing was so fucked up. All I knew is that it seemed like you were going to kiss me, and it was all I wanted.. all I could think of. I've dreamed it, wanted it for so long.. and then Madison ended up screwing it up. And I left, because I thought you had come to your senses and I thought you were going to hit me or something. But when we went to the club, and you still seemed fine with me, was still being friendly, I couldn't help but wonder and hope. And when you wanted to dance with me.. and let me kiss you.. I was crazy! I couldn't believe it."
He pauses here, and turns to face me. I know I'm just standing there stupidly, but my heart feels like it has expanded to fill my whole chest, and my head almost hurts with the force of its joy.
"Then Ethan came. He had seen us dancing. And he was jealous. He.. he's.. my ex. He's never been able to handle our break up well. Still gets weird about it. And when he saw us, he flipped. I knew why he was mad, but I didn't want him to say anything to you, so I did what he wanted to make sure he stayed quiet. When we got back there, I tried to calm him down and to just give up, but he grabbed me.. started kissing me.. I tried to push him off, but I couldn't.. and I guess that's when you walked up."
His voice dwindles away, and he regards me silently, a look of exhaustion on his features.
"Look.. I don't expect anything from you.. I don't deserve anything. Just.. don't hate me. Please. I'll leave you alone, but I wouldn't be able to deal if you never saw me again. I can get over you, and if I can't, I'll take myself away. Just please don't hate me, Silver. You are the most incredible person I have ever met."
I blink at him. What? Hate? I shiver continuously as I stare at him, disbelief making a stupid grin plaster itself on my features. Hazily I pray that I wasn't just dreaming as I move towards him slowly, watching his dubious features start to take on a slowly hopeful expression.
"Josh.. I.. I've been in love with you the moment I saw you. I've tried to stop, I've tried to forget you.. but I can't. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.. and.. I.. never thought or dared to dream that maybe you felt anything close to what I do.."
The next thing I know, I am in his arms. His hands grip my back as I bury my face in his shoulder, and I hear a whimpered gasp of relieved joy slip past his lips as he holds me tight. Never have I felt an embrace so complete: the way the warmth of his chest seems to spill and soak into mine, the unrelenting hold of his taut arms around me, the shuddering tide of his chest as he tries to breathe, his breath on my neck, the sound of his tears like a symphony of splendour in my ears. I hold him tightly, my fingers clutching the material of his shirt and digging into his back. The soft sweetness of his hair rains across my face, and we hug each other tighter and tighter, wanting to fall into each other, as if wanting to merge, as if only complete transformation will get us as close to each other as we burn to be.
"Silver.."
He says my name slowly, as if savouring it, and presses a feverish kiss to my cheek. His whole body is shaking, and the moans that escape from my throat seem to intensify them. My hands lift to his hair, and I quickly pull it out of the silk scarf, dropping the scarf uncaringly as I run my fingers through his hair, desperation and desire making my touch tremulous but undeniable at the same time. He groans as I do this, and his head tilts back slightly into my touch, a look of such pure yearning on his face that it makes my knees buckle slightly, falling against him more. He clutches me tighter, and whispers gaspingly into my ear, his lips kissing my earlobe as he does so.
"Don't stop.. please don't stop.."
I gasp helplessly and consent, my fingers pulling through his hair quickly, my skin burning to feel the cool softness of it, my whole being seeming to throb as he moans with each stroke of my fingers. As my hands sweep his hair away from his neck, I bow my head to kiss the exposed skin tremblingly, kissing slow, burning kisses down his skin, starting at his jaw line and working down to his collar. As I do so, and as he tilts his head to the side to press himself deeper against my lips, and I realize that I'm rock hard, and that it is dangerously close to pressing against his leg. I start to back up slightly, not wanting anything to ruin this incredible moment, but he grips me tightly, not letting me move.
"No," he moans desperately, shaking. "No.. I've got you now and I'm not letting you go anywhere.."
I have to stop and catch my breath, nodding as I agree not to move, struggling to keep consciousness. His fingers find my face, and he pushes me close, so that I am looking him in the eyes. I almost fall again as I see them: the iris' glowing with a power that eradicates everything around them, the green glow spilling out onto his cheeks and annihilating any thoughts I could have had except worship.
We stare at each other for a long moment, making love to each other simply through an exchange of singing gazes, and then he begins to move closer. I am transfixed as he moves: transfixed by this gothic god and his insurmountable beauty. My eyes start to slowly close as he moves, his fingers slipping across my cheek and twining in my hair, wrapping it around those awe-inspiring fingers slowly. His breathing is shaky and shudders as I close my eyes, but he keeps leaning in.
Again, the warmth of his face on my own, and the undeniable presence of his lips hovering just above my own. Then, incredibly, I feel the soft, pliant touch of his lips upon my own, the burning force of his energy pounding into my flesh. I groan into the kiss, and start to kiss him back, our lips pushing against the others' with an urgency that makes my whole body feel weak and powerful at the same time. He holds me tighter and tighter as we kiss, our bodies trembling in unison as it deepens. I can feel his lips start to part slowly, and just as I start to do the same, the sound of the door flying open downstairs makes us both jump.
"Silver? You home? I need help with my bags.."
My mother's no-nonsense voice makes me curse and we pull away from each other, our gazes wide and desperate as they lock onto each other. My lips burn from the touch of his, and I lift a shaking hand to touch them slowly. He watches me do this and offers me a shaky smile, kissing the back of my hand thrice before pulling away again.
"We'd better go help.." he says, his voice husky and unintentionally erotic-sounding.
I nod slowly, and then laugh slightly, nervously. He grins, and then suddenly we're both laughing, gripping each other tightly, tears coming again. But after a moment we manage to pull away from each other and head downstairs. I watch Josh move down the stairs, his shaking hands wiping at his tears, the smile on his face one that I thought I'd never ever see. Happiness floods my heart; even the icy, unsmiling visage of my mother can do nothing to daunt me.
We help her move her stuff inside in a daze, sneaking glances at one another and then looking away again, blushing and grinning like idiots. At one point, as he takes a bag from me, he wraps his fingers around my own and squeezes them, pressing a quick, feather-light kiss to my cheek. I kiss him back and try not to sigh with delight, transported to a plane of delight that is indescribable. The greenness of his eyes seems to glow more potently today than any other, and suddenly, at this exact moment, here on my driveway, I can't remember pain. I can't remember unhappiness. Just pure bliss.