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Post by freya verrin maxwell on Aug 3, 2009 20:13:02 GMT -5
Running her fingertips over the edges of the soft velvet hangers in the small armoire in her room, Freya smiled lightly, nostalgically.. this one was the dress she'd worn to her father's promotional party when she was thirteen, that skirt had been what she'd worn to her interview to be accepted into Pristel, and then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of red. Sighing, she closed the closet doors and shifting so that instead she was staring at the intricate patterns on the wood, her blue gaze tracing the contours. The red dress... sh'd worn that the night she'd come to this city, the night she'd been originally corrupted and had found out just what it was like to live on the edge. Freya had been tamed and broken in that one single twenty four hour period, and she knew without a doubt that she'd never be able to go back to the way she was before. In a few lame attempts, she could keep the curse words out of her vocabulary and she could diligently do her homework.. she could drink only green tea, but it was all in vain.
As she sighed, the breath of air shifted through her entire body... she was still tiny, still like a cracked china doll. Lina was starting to doubt she'd ever get better; she'd noticed the odd stares at dinner when she absently pushed her food around her place. But tonight was worse.. tonight, because it had been a year since she'd lost her chance at redemption... her child, taken away from her.. the thought alone was enough to make her want to curl up in bed and never wake up again. But she had to get up.. had to do something or otherwise one of the stronger nurses would drag her out, and no one wanted that. Freya was by far to frail to drag out of bed.. unless you wanted to wind up with broken bones...
Closing blue eyes, the girl crossed her thin arms over her frame and stepped towards the door, attempting to get out of the hellhole she'd become contained in over the last few moments. The door closed quietly behind her as she shuffled towards the main room of the center, sounds of television drawing her closer with every breath. She had never had a fondness for the television – probably because she couldn't operate the remote. But her laptop, loaned ot her by the center, was there.. it was in the main room in the back corner, plugged into the wall in her own little sanctuary – pillows and candles and a comfortable chair to sit in while she worked. Which was the general idea – working, but she didn't use it for that. She used it to connect with outer society. Fortunately for her, the only woman who'd figured that out so far had been Lina, and over the time she'd spent there, Lina had grown to be a close friend and confidante.
The only difference between now and the usual evening was that she wasn't feel in the technology mood. She just wanted to stare mindlessly at the television and listen to her brain cells pop inside her skull as cosmo and wanda argued over something else. The other residents of the clinic were perpetually immature, which wasn't something she necessarily hated – rather she appreciated it as a break from the real world. Unfortunately, with it brought the cartoons and childs play, and those things reminded her of her own child.. lost forever. So she'd sit in the corner and fool around with buttons until she figured out how to do something new.. and then she'd smile and sometimes, if she was feeling talkative, show Lina what it was she'd figured out.
Wandering into the large open area between men and women's wards, Freya offered a light nod to the other girls and settled at the couch on the other end for a moment. On the screen, several cartoonish characters wandered around and looked for some kind of key or something.. she wasn't really paying attention. For a moment, she thought she saw a figure out of the corner of her eye, but it was her imagination and instead, a moving tree on the balcony. Wind.. unfolding herself from the sandwiched position she'd been sitting in, she stood and made her way gingerly to the door, arms loosely crossed over her stomach and fingers hooked on her hip bones. Removing one hand to step outside, Freya breathed in the fresh air and sighed as she leaned back against the glass panelling for a moment. It wasn't long before her interest took her over and forced her forward. Placing her elbows against the cold marble of the balcony, Freya rested her chin on her hands and absently let her blue eyes trace over the traffic moving below on the streets.. she loved new york, really. It was always so.. alive. And the best part was that she wasn't far from the ground, so she could see the people too.. two stories wasn't that high at all, really.. a small drifted over her features as she remembered the last time she was out in New York at night.. how they'd stayed out on the roof all night.. they had a penchant for falling asleep outside on accident. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about all those times.. even when she tried to distract herself something would trigger a memory. It was the most frustrating thing in the world, especially since he'd moved on and it was obvious. A frown replaced her smile and she inched a bit closer to the railing, leaning heavier on her elbows.
count; 897
tagged; mickey
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Post by mickey cornelius sparto on Aug 4, 2009 18:57:09 GMT -5
&i'm breaking my own heart [/color][/center] Today wasn't a good day for Mickey...
You see, he had woken up, already having slept on the hard wood floor since he currently had no furniture(he had yet to buy any...and he didn't like furniture to begin with) and he was broke until he got the money for the cd he was making with the band the producers put together. After waking up, he proceeded to getting drunk and high, regardless of whether the drug testing order placed on him was lifted or not.
He had talked a little bit to Bethany but all she seemed to want to do was leave. So he let her. He wasn't one to ask people for help anyways. He thought she knew him better, but he guessed he was wrong, for once. She seemed so sweet and all...And he tried his hardest to be there for her no matter what...In many ways, though she said she would be there if he ever needed her, that all he had to do was ask...
She never asked for help and yet he was there for her. When she was about to break he would make sure he could put her back together. He didn't want her to be broken...He had to deal with enough broken people...
One of them being himself.
For breakfast and lunch he had a bottle of vodka and as much of the coke he could get his hands on as possible. It ended up giving him a numbing effect, which was what he was going for. So now he was walking down the street, just letting his legs take him anywhere. He was smoking his sixth marbolo red that day, taking long drags to suck as much nicotine into his body as possible. He felt cold, and this kept him warm. He had his jeans on, the usual tightish ones where his boxer briefs peeked out, some nike's that he just got that were already scruffy and in black and white, and then he had a simple, loose fitted white tee, the sleeves cut off and all his tattoos peeking out. He ran his fingers through his hair as he walked, his eyes a tad bit tinted pink and dark circles under his eyes.
Lately, all he had been doing was music and Bethany. They had become the main focal points in his life at the moment but, despite the fact he wouldn't want to admit it, Freya was still one of his main focal points as well. She was the invisible string holding him together. One false move and they would both collapse. He did care about Beth, a lot actually. She was fun and she was sweet. She spoke her mind and showed when she was jealous of him being around other chicks (though he would have to admit it irked him that she didn't trust him enough) and she, well, was stable. She was a constant. She would laugh and smile whenever he stepped into a room and would tell him how much of an amazing person he was...
It didn't hurt that she was a fucking kink in bed either...
Regardless, as much as he cared about her, she wasn't Freya. She wasn't a replacement Freya either because that was just messed up. He just thought he should try to move on instead of clinging so much to someone and something he couldn't have and yet...
He was having the same problem with Bethany. He was holding on to her in hopes that they could be perfect together...That she could become the person he needed in order to become someone better, the person he needed in order to finally get through everything he had been going through since he was younger...
He didn't think anyone understood where he was coming from. He could have saved her instead of killing her...He could have saved her everytime his hand went down and across her face...He could have saved the baby too...If he had just tried harder...If he had watched over Freya better...If he had just been a better person she wouldn't have ended up so broken. If he hadn't showed her drugs or alcohol or anything she would be fine right now...She would happily be in her room in Russia or in California doing her homework, going to school, getting homecoming queen and prom queen, she would have been able to get into a better art school where they would appreciate her work more...
He sighed deeply as he stopped in front of the building Freya was being held in. He didn't look up at it, just remained at the sidewalk, inhaling and exhaling, taking drags and putting them out as he stared hard at the door. He coughed a few times, coughs that sounded like his lung would be torn in two, and then he would go back to leaning against the lamp post and debating whether to go in or not...
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Post by freya verrin maxwell on Aug 4, 2009 20:47:04 GMT -5
This whole day should have just never come into existence. She didn’t think it was fair that this had happened to either of them, it shouldn’t have, but disaster seemed to follow her everywhere and she was always screwing up something. She couldn’t even keep the English language right or go a day eating normally - even that was a failure for her. She hated herself so much that it was encompassing, and yet everyone else didn’t seem to have a problem with her, which sometimes irked her and other times she was thankful for. She gave away her trust so easily, she knew this, but if you didn’t stick up for someone no one would know how they would be when they weren’t under pressure, and that was her entire logic. You always had to be nice, perhaps it was just the way she was raised, but it was how she functioned. Anger was unnecessary and got in the way so much..
Sighing, she shifted her fingers to rest against her skull instead of in her hair and let the frown fully stretch over her face. Honestly, she wondered why no one was bothering to check if she was going to kill herself or not. She was on a balcony, and she was in a rehabilitation center, and for the past half of a year, so much had been going down that it would only make sense if she’d just take the small initiative and throw herself over the edge. The fall wouldn’t be too far, though.. If she was higher up she might have considered it.
Never in her life had she been questioned before because it was a known fact that she didn’t lie. She couldn’t lie, in fact, she was so horrible at it that it was laughable. And for the most part, the extent of her avoiding a question or not quite answering it was as far as she’d go. She changed the subject without a second thought, and for a while she forgot she was even doing it. But today.. Today she’d seen things she had never wanted to. Maria Adler, who had seemed to charming and kind, had pointed out things she’d thought of but had never confirmed, that she didn’t want to understand and had hoped would remain buried in the backyard for the rest of her life. She didn’t want everyone to know these things, why had he said them? It was private information.. Not something someone she’d never even met should have known about. It made her wonder what else had been shared about her. Freya felt very insecure and unsafe.
Because unlike the general public, she did care what they thought. What other people thought of you was everything, because you could be shunning from society or put up on the highest pedestal. All she wanted was to be left alone, and her one attempt at being social had resulted in her having her secrets spit back in her face. Her deepest, darkest secrets. The one thing she’d promised never to tell anyone, and she hadn’t. Mickey had. You would think something like that would have been sacred. Especially the day before… a frown surfaced again and she shifted even closer to the edge, her body curving around the smooth marble texture as she dropped her head and peered down at the street. Blonde hair drifted down around her face as her gaze fell, and a smile lit up the frown delicately as a breeze lifted the strands.
It was such a lovely evening, too, but the air around her was stagnant - all breezes were blocked out by the walls around the edge of the balcony. Offing herself never came to mind as she climbed up on the edge, perching lightly on the thick banister that had previously surrounded her. Freya was in her own little world, legs dangling over the edge and her bottom comfortably positioned, hands at her side. She wasn’t ever agile, so she could only hope nothing would happen, but for whatever reason it seemed that Lina had decided to leave her to herself. Another breeze swirled around the street, making light noises as it ruffled her skirt and the edges of her shirt. Back straight, she planted her hands by her hips and tilted her head back to catch a glimpse of the sky. There were so many things she missed about Russia, but one of the first and foremost of them was that you couldn’t see the sky in Manhattan. The stars were covered by the lights in the city that never slept.. She had to wonder about the children and what they were missing out on. When she was little, her father used to take her out around the back and point out which constellations you could see and when the others were coming up. If he was feeling talkative, he’d tell her a story about it…
Her blue eyes sliding closed, she was interrupted only by the sound of coughing.. A terrible coughing. Without realizing it, she shifted her head down and found that she was staring at none other then Mickey himself. A riptide of sadness tore through her, focusing at her belly, where the source of information had even come from. Turning her face away, she shifted her eyes elsewhere and tried to return to that blissful ignorance, the pain in her heart an ever-present reminder of what she could have been doing right now if stupidity hadn’t taken over her thoughts.
count; 924
tagged; mickey
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Post by mickey cornelius sparto on Aug 4, 2009 21:17:06 GMT -5
&i'm breaking my own heart [/color][/center] Mickey cleared his throat and scrunche dup his nose. That noise made him sound like shit. Well, to him, he was shit so one would say that it suited him. He glanced up, simply because he was tired of looking at the door and he raised an eyebrow.
"If you jump, I'll never forgive you..." though he normally would have said it in a joking manner, he seemed completely serious right now. If she did...He would forgive her...
He just wouldn't be able to forgive himself.
Running his fingers through his hair, he took a drag of his cancer stick, one hand in his pocket as he looked at her frail frame on the railing of the balcony, balancing on it. He was tempted to sweep her off her feet and hold her tightly, tell her everything would get better and that they could go back to the way things used to be...
But he had Bethany now. Things were different. His life, now, was suppose to consist of making music, plowing Bethany, listening to Bethany's problems, plow Bethany some more, make more music...And drink, smoke, snort, and inject everything he possibly can until his body gave out.
In many ways, Mickey acted like superman. He thought his body could take everything and anything. That it could handle his lifestyle. But, measureing by the coughing fit he just had, it sounded like his body was ready to give up and turn in to Davey Jones. He bit his lower lip as he looked up at her and then glanced over at the ladder like vines on the side of the brick building. It was one of those white wooden things people put up to have vines growing through it. He put out his cigarette and went on towards it, making sure it was secure before he started climbing until he was on the second floor and had silently hoisted himself up onto the balcony and he was an arm protectively around Freya's frail waist, after he sat right next to...Incase tonight she decided she would end it all...
He would go with her.
Mickey remained silent as he sat next to her, just looking out at the view for a second, watching the world go on by as if nothing else mattered. Maybe they were simply leading by example. They were not caring about all these people that lived in this city because a city was primarily just a bunch of buildings, hollow and empty...
Without people you had nothing...Without emotion you had no people.
Strange logic...He was just rambling in his head again to fill the time.
Why was he here? He shouldn't be. She didn't need him to be there. He bit his lower lip before he finally looked down at her, his dark blue eyes were looking pale lately, like the color was being melted away. It was like the time passing by was just sucking the life out of him. It wasn't just the baby, it was everything. Mickey was unhappy, and he had been for a very long time. Before, he was able to deny it because he was alone. Now, he couldn't stand being alone...Not when he had spent years with someone else...with company...with love with compassion with ... happiness.
He never wanted to give it up, and yet he did.
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Post by freya verrin maxwell on Aug 4, 2009 22:10:10 GMT -5
Things had changed after the death of the baby boy. As much as she needed him, he’d left, and she’d never said a word about it. But things couldn’t go back to being the same. She couldn’t pretend they were, because it was so unchangeable that it would ruin other people’s lives if it ever did. And if there was anything she wanted to stay out of, it was other’s people’s business. Closing her eyes for a moment, Freya sighed and lifted one hand into her lap, chilled by the cooled stone beneath her body. She would have moved, but a slight sound caught her attention and she shifted once again, worried about what might be going on and if he’d seen her.
Judging by his current position, halfway up the lattice work on the building, he had. A soft smile filtered over her lips for a moment before she remembered the truth - he’d shared everything. Nothing was hers to keep anymore.. It sort of upset her that he thought he had the liberty to tell things about her.. Because he didn’t. She didn’t care if he’d said anything else, but their baby was supposed to be just that - theirs, and no one else’s. frowning lightly, she watched him come across the balcony and sit with her, his arm around her waist like old times. But she didn’t want that.. Because she wasn’t ever angry and this time, she was. She was angry… how could he do that and act like everything was okay?
And Beth.. As much as she loved him wasn’t important at the moment. Because he wasn’t with her, he was with Beth. And Beth was lovely, she really was. He couldn’t have found anyone better suited for him, in her opinion, and she’d respect her as long as the world turned. And as for the painting.. She still wanted to do it. She hadn’t had a muse for at least a year.. Or not one she’d gotten to select. Julliard had a strict policy about background checks and all that, so if she got to paint Beth on her own, it would be like a kid in a candy store.
Snapping back to what was happening at the feeling of his gaze on her, she looked up, and allowed her gaze to stay for a minute before she removed his hand from around her waist and flipped her legs back over the other side, leaning back against the edge of the balcony because she needed support to speak at all. “What happened with Cass, Mickey?” she asked, her voice low and her expression completely sealed and calm. “Maria was telling me earlier.. Why didn‘t you say something?” she crossed her arms over her waist lightly, her fingers gripped the edges of the marble slab behind her and her eyes trained, so focused they were slightly glazed on the glass door in front of her. “I’ll still love you, always…. But you have Beth….”
[/color] she said pointedly, turning to face him for a moment and gauge his expression. “She doesn‘t deserve to have you here.. That doesn‘t seem fair.” she wasn’t upset, just watching blankly stating the truth. Quietly, she shifted again so her elbows were back on the marble and her chin was back in her hands “It seems like we‘ve been giving people the wrong impression…”[/b] she finished.. Trying to remember that she was angry, but her thoughts had been taken over by apathy instead. In a twisted, wrong sense, today was the perfect day for this. count; 599 tagged; mickey outfit; click.[/blockquote][/size] |
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Post by mickey cornelius sparto on Aug 4, 2009 23:04:27 GMT -5
&i'm breaking my own heart [/color][/center] Mickey didn't seem to move when she moved his arm from around her waist. He let her, but remained in his seat. He only turned around when she started speaking and the second Cass' name came out of her mouth...He assumed the worst...
"Cass and I had a fling," he stated, answering her question without hesitation, "That's it."
"It wasn't important...hence the reason I didn't tell you. Plus, you have enough shit going on than to be worrying about other people."
Fucking Maria. He honestly didn't like the gal anymore. He didn't really like anyone anymore. Everything in France was such a blur to him now...It was like one giant party that would never end and Mickey liked it when the parties would end-that meant he could bring the chick home and shag her.
When he heard Beth's name, it was slowly becoming obvious that he was trying to cover up his anger, "Beth has nothing to do with this. What? I can't be friends with females now that I'm with her? It's their problem if they get the wrong idea. She should fucking trust me enough to be around you," it was obvious that this was the only thing that bugged him about Beth. Her jealousy issues...
People could get all the wrong ideas they wanted. Since when did Mickey care what people thought about him? And Bethany...she always claimed to be so rebellious and independent from people, why couldn't she just trust him? He would never cheat on anyone...He trusted Beth enough to be around guys all the time; guys that would hit on her and fuck her if she were single...But he trusted her and new that she had better judgement than that...
Why the fuck couldn't she just return the favor?
He sighed deeply and locked his eyes onto her's, "You want me to leave?"
It was a geniune question. If she wanted him to leave, she should have just said so instead of bringing this stuff up. He didn't like thinking about Cass...Hell, he had a hard time being her body guard without thinking abut what she did. She fucking KILLED THE BABY....ON PURPOSE....It obviously had bugged Mickey because after that he would barely give her the time of day. It hurt, really bad, when she said she got the abortion instead of fully talking to him about it. It was like he lost Freya and the baby they were suppose to have all over again. The slim chance he had at being happy again had slipped away at the abortion clinic.
He waited patiently for her answer and if she didn't/ He would just leave. He could get the picture...He wasn't stupid. She didn't want him around then so be it. At least that was something he couldn't fuck up for her.
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Post by freya verrin maxwell on Aug 5, 2009 1:36:58 GMT -5
She should have been frustrated. She should have said something that would start a fight. But she couldn't, she couldn't. Freya had never been one to anger, she just settled with whatever was thrown her way or avoided it all together. That was just the way she was. Unfortunately, also included in her personal description was that she was extremely trusting and believed everything anyone said, regardless of who was saying it and the location in which that was happening. She was like a naïve little child – there was no hope for her in that department because trust issues just didn't come for her. She could depend on anyone at any time, and maybe that was why she couldn't live by herself – she had begun to start depending on others. A dangerous habit... one she should get out of. “Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes moving to his for a minute. He was always thinking about other people – no matter how much he said he didn't care about anyone, it wasn't true. He did care. He had a lot more going on then most people gave him credit for, really, hardly seemed fair. A frown drifted over her features as she waited for his answer, because frankly she wasn't going to reveal anything about her situation and this seemed to be the best way to avoid it.
Friends. It hurt to hear him say that, she couldn't cover that up, and for a minute it flickered across her face. But she pushed that away. Beth Beth Beth, Beth. It was like a repeating CD skipping over and over again in her head, and she was thankful because otherwise things would have gone farther by now. Or at least she thought they would have.. they usually did. Freya really didn't know any more. She'd given up trying to figure out what was going to happen next and just let it happen, reacted when necessary and watched when it was called for. The frown was stationary as he continued, his tone worrying her. She used to feel this way when he'd get aggressive over nothing back before, back when she'd first met so long ago.. and he'd come such a long way from there, to see them both back full circle broke her heart even more then it already was. Getting better didn't even seem to be on her to do list anymore, because what did it matter if she hadn't eaten dinner? She was just going to sit in this rehab forever anyway, regardless of if she got better or not. Her parents didn't trust her enough to sign her out, and until she hit eighteen she wasn't going to be able to sign herself out.
“Of course not..” she stated immediately, without hesitation. Her words were quick and sounded very russian, which may or may not have been intimidating given the situation. But she had originally wanted him to just go away... because then she could yearn and yearning was so much better then having him right in front of her and being unable to touch him without feeling guilty, not being able to look at him the same way as she usually did... everything was wrong at the moment, really, it was. “But what does it matter what I want? People will always dislike you, people will always tell your most intimate secrets, things will always go downhill.. it doesn't matter what anyone wants because it doesn't happen. It never does.” she stated, turning away to stare into the street. “Just like people are taunted with the image of perfection, when it can exist in one moment with someone you love and you'll never know, because all you see is what looks back at you in the mirror, and the only thing you can compare it to is that girl in the magazine or the one on the street corner, and you'll never look like her. Or those stepford relationships you see on television – couples that will love each other forever and ever. No matter how much you want it, it's never going to happen. If it did, God wouldn't have a reason for heaven. The only reason people are so fascinated with heaven to begin with is because you can get what you want there.” she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment and scrubbing a hand over her face, but not turning away from the road below. She couldn't look at him.. couldn't say the next part without breaking if she did. “And you never, ever, end up with who you love the most. Something always gets in the way.” shaking her head, she turned back towards the doors for a moment, pushing her palms against the marble and sliding back into place on the banister. “I suppose all of that is irrelevant anyway.” she stated, the apathetic expression back in place. She refused to make a bigger scene then she already had, but she always managed to spill her guts when she was around him, no matter what the situation was. Even if her entire purpose for the conversation was not to.
count; 893
tagged; mickey
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Post by mickey cornelius sparto on Aug 5, 2009 10:49:06 GMT -5
&i'm breaking my own heart [/color][/center] Whens he asked if he was okay, he hadn't bothered answering because, quite frankly, he wasn't sure if her was or wasn't anymore. In a way he felt like he was in limbo and had a strange feeling of de ja vu. He remained quiet as he listened to her, surprised when she said she didn't want him to leave. He honestly expected her to say yes and be done with it.
Her first words stung. Yes, he knew he shouldn't have said anything, but it wasn't like he had told the world. He needed to talk to someone about these things right? So why not the people in France? He didn't expect to see them ever again...But instead it came back and bit him in the ass. He didn't expect them to meet Freya or even remotely come into contact with her...
"It can happen...and it is relevant..." he sighed, slightly feeling weariness wearing him down, "Freya, you're beautiful," he put a hand gently on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, "I just wish you would see that...You're not like the girls in those magazines because you're real. You have problems like any other human being, you aren't robotic and fake, you are beautiful inside and out...People don't tell you that enough."
He pushed her hair out of her face but he, of course, made no attempt to come closer to her or anything. He wasn't a cheater. He wasn't going to be his father.
"And you can end up with the one you love the most..." he bit the inside of his cheek at the thoughts running through his mind. Was it possible to love two people? Well, one love was different from the other. Freya was his first love...The one that never really goes away even after you marry and date a million other people and have kids and such, "If you don't, that's just the way fate wanted it to be..."
He let his hand drop back down to his side, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Cass," he sighed deeply, "It wasn't suppose to amount to anything...I can't even look her in the eyes anymore," Mickey was usually able to keep eye contact with people very easily, even if they scared the shit out of him. But...with Cass it as different. The kid was probably his last shot at true happiness and all he got was empty space again. It was strange, how someone like Mickey could want a kid so bad...Maybe it was because he felt like time was passing by to quickly, that it was running out for him, and he wanted to leave more than just a memory of himself behind-he wanted to leave an actual living, breathing person.
He felt he was ready to be a dad, more than he did before meeting Freya, but then again, he also felt like he wouldn't be a good one... He liked kids-in a way- and maybe thats why he wanted one of his own so badly.
"You'll be happy Freya," he grabbed onto the balcony so tightly to keep himself balanced that his knuckles turned white, "You just gotta go after it."
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Post by freya verrin maxwell on Aug 5, 2009 23:58:43 GMT -5
Freya sighed, not reacting as he touched her - she refused to give herself that because she didn't deserve it. A small frown took place on her features and she disregarded his complements, because obviously he was mistaken – she couldn't brave it out around mirrors as it were, so it really didn't matter one way or another what he thought – it wasn't what washed over her when she had to take a shower or had to look at a plate of food. Anything with a reclective surface was a dangerous thing to be around for her.. and all she wanted was to be okay with herself so she didn't have to see it like this.. to find someone who she could make her feel that way.. she'd been alright – slowly recovering, for a good year or two, and then things had been pulled out from under her and she'd been broken all over again. The only thing that hadn't gone back to the way it was was her heroin addiction – that she kept secret, locked away.. she hadn't done it in so very long, but that didn't mean she didn't want to. Didn't think about it. Quite the contrary – she never stopped thinking about it. The only time she was able to think of something else was when she was hurting.. surprisingly. She wanted to feel even better when she was feeling good, and when she was feeling bad... well, she was consumed with that so she couldn't let her mind wander far.
“No, no.. that's not right.” she mumbled, momentarily lost back in the time in the park.. if only that could happen again.. Beth Beth Beth Beth.. she frowned, shaking her head to clear the thoughts and brushing the fallen pieces of hair out of her face. “You shouldn't have to go looking for it,” she stated, resolutely and yet it was so quiet that he might not have heard her, a small part of her wished he hadn't. She'd had a condition lately where anything she said was babble and it all came out so quickly that she was confused, and it happened even when she didn't originally want it to. Pushing her finger tips together, she allowed the light breeze to toss the strands of her hair and the edges of her shirt, lifted to expose a small sliver of her stomach in the posture that she was in – bent at the waist, elbows on the edge of the banister and fingers pushed together. Lining up her pinkies perfectly together, she let a concentrated expression dance over her features “You're not supposed to have to work for it..” she murmured decidedly at last, focusing most of her attention on lining up her finger prints together.
Anything to avoid looking at him, because if she did... if she did, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from asking him to stay for longer. She wouldn't be able to keep her fingers off of his, or her attention off of him. She had to, though... Beth Beth Beth Beth Beth... Beth. Wasn't she the reason they were in this no-touching predicament to begin with? Well, his boundaries obviously were a little looser then hers were if he could touch her without going crazy. Maybe she really was mentally unsound. A small frown filtered over her lips as she finished lining up her fingers, and was thus left without a distraction. Pulling apart the perfectly symmetrical digits, she instead traced the lines in the marble, bending her knees so her eyes could follow her movement. Tilting her chin up to the left, where he was sitting, she smiled for a moment before turning back to her work. “Or do you know because you found it?” she questioned, her voice never rising above a gentle tone. If he had, it was more then she could say.
count; 656
tagged; mickey
outfit; click.
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