capitol wasteland, part ii ;

After speaking with Keyn about the mutts, he left to head to the mess hall. Most everyone else was on a loose schedule, but hunters and gatherers had a pretty big leeway.

Life in the compound was simple and easy compared to most others trying to survive on their own. Here they had security, safety and livelihood. What was left of the Capitol didn’t stand a chance against their growing numbers and they knew it, so they hid behind their city walls.

“What’s on the menu today, Viola?” Thorne asked as he walked up to the line. He quickly noted the dwindled food supplies. 

“Sorry, we got a herd of refugees in earlier this evening - most hadn’t eten in days. They tried to keep the children fed.” Viola spoke as she scraped up what she could onto a plate for him.

“We need to train more hunters.” He muttered angrily, but took his plate with a nod before sitting down in the mostly empty cafeteria.

A young, petite girl entered shortly after, catching sight of Throne. She made a beeline towards him, a smile playing upon her lips.

“Have a good hunt?” She asked as she sat next to him. Eefa managed to look radiant and fresh in the dark and dreary world they lived in. She wore a flowery sundress that was relatively white and untorn, her straight auburn hair tied up with a green butterfly clasp. Thorne couldn’t help staring, then dropping his gaze.

“Decent, yeah. But it seems it’s still not good enough.” He waved a hand towards his already empty plate. 

“I know, I treated some of the their children. I’m sorry.” She said apologetically. “They’re too weak to train right now, but soon you’ll have a whole team of hunters at your disposal. 

//////

They thought they had won. They assumed the Capitol was dying, struggling with it’s last breath. How wrong they were. 

Ash. Everywhere he looked, ash was falling, light but consitatnt, like before a blizzard. Thorne couldn’t hear a thing - he awoke to his entire room shaking and then being blown apart, ash and fire raining down upon him. A sharp ringing began to play in his ears and he rolled to the nearest wall, grasping his head as his hearing slowly returned to the sound of shrieks and screams. 

Nothing could have prepared them for this. There was no warning. There were no signs.

Grabbing what was left of his arsenal, Throne threw on what clothes he could quickly find and pushed forward through the partially decimated hallway. He checked every room for survivors, but finding none. Either they were dead, or gone. As he came upon Eefa’s door, his heart quickened and he found it difficult to peer inside. There was no one there. 

The next room on his list was Kid. He quickly slammed open the locked door with his boot and found the girl half-sprawled off her bed, her arm badly mangled and the complete right side of her body charred; half of her room completely gone. She was in the midst of attempting to no avail, to put on a torniquet on when their eyes met. 

“Th-thorne,” She let out a strangled sound as tears flooded her eyes - whether they were out of fear, sadness, or relief, he didn’t have time to decipher. He quickly went to her side and grabbed her, dragging her out to the hallway. He pulled the torn cloth that she’d ripped off her bed sheet tight around her arm and the blood almost instantly slowed to a trickle. He knew there was no way they could save her arm from the elbow down.

“I know this is going to hurt but we have to move,” he said. She just bit her lip and nodded firmly, following after his lead after he handed her a crossbow. He wasn’t quite sure what the enemy was yet, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Sparrow hobbled after him, trying to keep her whimpering and grunts of pain to a minimum as pain seared through her right side.

“Do you know what hit us?” He asked as they maneuvered through the ravaged building, gingerly stepping over fresh corpses and falling debris. A haunting vision of what they had just been doing hours before. 

“No, sir.” She said through gritted teeth, her knuckles white as they held the crossbow tight to her chest. “I woke up to screaming pain. Everything was kinda hazy after that.”

It must be something big to have caused such destruction on this wide of a scale. What had they built? Were they just biding their time, did they have this weapon the entire time? No, Thorne thought, they would have used it at the end. 

By the time they reached the front doors of the building that held one section of the population, they had  gathered a handful of other survivors. 

The group let out a sound of dismay as their eyes fell upon the complete devestation before them. Their humble home was reduced to rubble. They were lucky only in the fact that the radius seemed to have ended just at the edge of their building. Many others weren’t so lucky. 

Thorne caught a glimpse of the beast through the fire and smoke as it moved through the rubble and debri, seemingly searching for anyone left to kill. It was monstrious, to say the least. 50 foot tall, at least, with what seemed to be metal armor imbedded into it’s black, charred flesh. There seemed to be some sort of compartments on it’s arms, a few them were empty. Bombs, probably. It spit fire out suddenly, and there was a distant scream. 

“Get to the underground tunnels. NOW.” Thorne turned and half-whispered to the group behind him, and they immediatly obeyed. Rounding the half-destroyed building, they headed straight for the entrance to one of the underground tunnels that lead to the main central area beneath them. 

capitol wasteland ;

Thorne pulled his hand free from the freshly made corpse, his fingers glistening in the full moonlight. The still beating heart in his hand oozed the dark crimson liquid as it pumped, seemingly for an abnormally long time, in his hand before slowly coming to a stop as the glowing blue light in the corpse’s eyes faded. 

Disdain etched across his features as he placed his prize in a small pouch at his hip. He grabbed an already bloody hankerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his hands as clean as he could get them. He could never really get all of it. He always found remnents of blood in the wrinkles, and inbedded in under his fingernails. Stuffing the cloth back into his vet pocket, he picked up his kit and moved on.

The ground was littered with the dead, most having been dead for many cycles now. He was lucky to find a straggler admist the ruble, especially so close to the Capitol. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Most people, hell, most any living thing knew  better than to stay this close to the Capitol. It made for slim pickings, but at least he was still alive.

The sudden sond of a rock skittering across the road as if kicked, brought his crossbow up, ready to fire into the startled, young face of a girl.

“Goddamnit, Kid.” He cursed as he dropped his weapon to his side. Kid, who’s real name was Sparrow, stood frozen, eyes wide with fright. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It wasn’t even that she was a terrible gatherer, it was that she was too good. He hadn’t heard her until she was nearly behind him. It unnerved him.

“S-sorry!” She stammered as she finally stumbled back, a delayed reaction, nearly dropping the armful of supplies she’d managed to gather. 

“C’mon.” He muttered after collecting his wits, turning on his heel and heading back the way he came. Sparrow silently followed after, weaving around broken bodies and deteriorated streets without so much as a peep. 

As they came upon the entrance to their small but capable camp, Brael (Bray-el) lifted his hand in the three finger salute as they passed over the gateway. Dim electronic light lit the pathways you could choose from, heading off in various directions. He gave Kid a nod as they parted ways, he was off to the meat station, her, the supplies station. 

“Three hearts?” Keyn (Key-in), their resident doctor and the oldest of their group, asked with a lifted eyebrow. “That’s quite the catch for one night.” He spoke as he separated the hearts, weighing and examining them.

“The muttations seem to be more disorientated than usual, wandering away from their packs, standing still for hours at a time. I’m not sure what it means, though.” Thorne replied with a scowl, though it seemed the only facial expression he knew. He picked at the dried blood beneath his fingernails and along his weathered hands. 

“All technology fails over time. These mutts were not meant to exist this long. Quite surprised they’ve gone on this long to be honest.” 

“Well, broken mutts ain’t no problem in my book.” 

Keyn finished his examination of the hearts and pushed them into a small tray to be picked up by the local runner.

unrealistic expectations;

i brush fingers along the glistening spine of the one that i love
as he breathes softly in sleep, head nestled against my damp thigh.
i whisper all the little secrets burrowed in my head,
into his disinterested ear.
      or is it?
just little things that i’ve accumulated over the years -
but mostly, these things are how much i adore him.
i whisper all the little things he does that makes my love grow,
with each passing morning as i awake entangled in his arms.
‘you are mine,’ i murmur as my fingers brush damp strands from his cheek,
       our bodies shimmering in the aftermath of our lovemaking
and his lip twitches in a knowing smile.

peace.

these thoughts simmer on in a growing heat — burning through my veins. a low, steaming heat that burns at the touch, leaving one to inhale & curse sharply before attempting to nurse the pain away.

i try to stop it, but to no avail. it lingers, singeing every part of me. leaving traces of its existence in its wake. with every beat of my heart, the blood finds it. it reminds me, again & again. here i am, waiting to enfold you.

sometimes it’s all i can do to clutch my cheset & sob for mercy. i did not ask for such a wild heart, and such a weak mind — the two clashing & contradicting each other on a whim. 

and so i beg. mercy on a frail mind & a battered heart. 

my soul for an ounce of peace.

old poem.

there are stys in my eye
drifting through loopholes
through locked keyholes with a grin.

i am everywhere you go
scraping along walls leaving
abcess behind.

your scent is intoxicating;
a catch in my throat - choke.
death won’t take me. yet.

she isn’t real.
i trace miles of empty sea
salt eroding my wounds like stone;
i can’t make her real.

a snippet from one of my nanowrimo novels.

“We’re here.” She said, and he groaned, slowly leaning over and pushing on Enid’s shoulder, who turned to look at him. He just gestured his hand towards the hotel before stumbling out. Caleigh averted her gaze from Enid’s as he slipped out as well, following the boys towards their room. She stayed behind, lingering by the van before finally following after the others; but instead of going inside, she leaned against the wall and lit up another cigarette. Soon afterward, Enid slipped out and joined her. He flashed Caleigh an unsettling grin (at least it was to her), before moving to lean against the pole that happened to be just across from her. She lowered her gaze, moving to ash her cigarette on the cement below.

“You don’t trust me.”

Caleigh shook her head.

“I frighten you.” 

She nodded, her body slightly jerking from a twitch in her back.

“And yet.. you can’t help but to be attracted to that fear, that growing unease in your stomach.” Enid continued to grin in that unsettling way as he stepped closer with each word until he was leaning over her, one arm resting against the wall beside her head. Caleigh couldn’t help but to look up or else her head would be resting upon his chest. Her wide blue eyes reluctantly found his, and her body seemingly turned to ice at the intensity of his stare and how dead and empty his gaze was.

“What are you?” She stammered through chattering teeth. She was suddenly so cold, although it wasn’t near cold enough for that yet. Enid laughed, low and rumbling in his chest as he dipped his head forward, their noses nearly touching. He raised his cigarette to her features, the burning cherry barely illuminating her face and warming it with its intense heat. 

“I’m what you fear most, turtle-dove.” He whispered. 

Despite the crippling fear that was burning through Caleigh’s brain, she suddenly wanted nothing more than to kiss him. She needed to conquer and tame him; to make him her own once and for all. She had to fight her fears and overcome them, to be better than him. But she could barely breath, let alone make such a bold move against the towering dark presence pressing against her very soul. Tears began to well up in her shimmering gaze as her hand came up, curling into his shirt and tearing it slightly with the force of it.

“Spare me.” She pleaded. She wasn’t even sure what she was pleading for, but she knew she had to beg for her life. Enid only grinned wider, showing off those pearly whites that seemed oddly sharp, terrifyingly so, even. The phrase “my, what big teeth you have” popped into her head and she fought not to laugh at how absurd it was. But the sentence repeated itself, echoing over and over as their bodies nearly touched; their collective breathes washing over each other’s features. Neither moved, and Caleigh felt her heart racing, and every instinct told her to run, run, run. With trembling lips parting, Caleigh felt herself tipping her head up, closing that so small space between them, their lips barely touching before the door to the hotel room opened and Dior stepped out. Letting out a gasp, Caleigh jerked her head back, blinked, and turned to look at Dior.

“What’s goin’ on guys?” He asked. Callie turned to try to stammer an excuse as to why she was kissing Enid, and nearly cried out when she saw Enid leaning against the pole, gazing across at her with a small smile, flicking his cigarette out into the parking lot. 

“I..I..” She tried to say something, but words wouldn’t come. She felt sick with fear and that growing unease. Had she imagined the whole thing? She brushed her fingers over her lips as she gazed across at Enid who seemed completely unaware of what had just transpired, her cigarette having already burnt down to the filter. “Hah, nothin’, just standin’ around.” She finally managed to spit out, flashing her old friend a reassuring smile. 

Flicking her cigarette butt over the railing in front of the room, she turned to duck into the room. Ian smiled at her as he flipped through the tv channels. She hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning against it. She tried to calm her racing heart, closing her eyes and swallowing heavily. She turned towards the sink to splash cold water on her face, drawing her long hair back over her shoulders. Drying her features off, she barely took time to look in the mirror before turning to head back into the room with a small, shaky laugh. She was just losing it from lack of sleep, that’s all, she assured herself. She hadn’t noticed the scatter of grey ashes that had accumulated on the side of her neck and along the shoulder of her black shirt as she flicked off the bathroom light.

sibyl’s store.

 The store, which was hidden in a corner lot of the mall, somewhat separated from the rest (the store next to and across from it were empty), was not your usual store in the mall. As you wandered down the hallway towards it, you’d notice it was darker, cooler. A fluorescent light flickering above your head as you turn towards the store, although you cannot see inside as the windows seemed to be covered in dark purple curtains. Above the doorway, it read “Sibyl’s Sanctuary” in swirling letters. As you walked past the arched doorway, your senses would be overloaded with a multitude of different sights, sounds, and aromas and even taste. The walls were so dark they were almost black, although it seemed to be of a purple hue. The floor was dark hardwood, and seemed oddly worn and smooth. The large dome ceiling seemed out of place and one would absently wonder how a place like this got built inside of a bland shopping mall. From the ccenter of the ceiling would dangle a rather large black chandelier, purple candles adoring its hundreds of sockets made just for them. All the candles were lit, the dark purple wax dripping down to an unseen spot from the front of the store.

 The room was definitely darker, and smoky. The scent was an earthy, dark smell, and the taste was… intriguing, to say the least. As your eyes adjusted, you would come to notice the cluttered space (though the disarray was all in it’s perfect place, it felt like)  - everything seemed old and used, some of the bookcases that lined the walls seemed ancient and the books that inhabited the shelves even more so. The tables and shelves filling the room were covered with all sorts of … interesting objects. Jars filled with questionable items, skeletons framed in a large box, books with titles of spells and witchcraft littered the store. There were vials of liquid, perfumes, incense, empty large jars that filled the large wooden cabinet against one wall; crystals dangling from the ceiling on fishing wire, and most curiously was the large bare tree that was settled in the center of the store, a table cut out to circle it’s base, the branches holding still more crystals, orbs, and other miscellaneous items. Here you would notice that the dark wax dripped upon the tree, giving the dark bark a faint splash of color. 

There were hints of religion of all kinds in the symbolic symbols that were scattered about the room, some being rather sacrilegious.  The walls were covered in paintings and statues, some terrifying and others gorgeous. Of course, there were silly things as well, and there was an obvious shift from the front of the store, to the back; where there were mood rings and horoscope booklets, leather bracelets and hippie jewelry. Magic sets and trick cards, etc. And, at the very back of the room, was a large oak desk. Beside the desk was a small table which seemed to always be stocked with random sweets and treats, and a large tea pot with porcelain cups. Beyond that, there was another arched doorway, covered by thick curtains.

Sibyl sat behind the desk nestled into the corner of her small shop, her legs crossed as she was reading a large, leather book. Her somewhat tattered black dress hugged her form as she shifted forward, the white lace tracing the neckline of her low collared dress brought attention to her cleavage. She’d raise her almost hypnotic gaze towards the entrance as the faint jingle of silver bells alerted her of newcomers. She’d give a warm grin as she slowly got to her feet, brushing a stray strand of hair back into her pile of dreaded hair tied atop of her head as she headed towards the front.

are you sure?

old drabble of h/d.

he felt light, barely wavering in and out of consciousness, his thoughts drifting away. he jerked, trying to get his hand to move towards the silvery strand, to rip them to shreds. anything but to have them exposed. eyes wide, he felt himself panting, rage and fear building up inside of him at a tremendous pace. still, the strands floated on, floating carelessly through the air and drifting into the bowl before him.

laughter surrounded him, and he twitched this way and that to find it’s owner. to the left, barely out of eye sight, was a figure, everything black and blurry as the boy had lost his glasses, but the hair always gave it away. always. his jaw wouldn’t respond to the commands he would give it; every word he wanted to scream was forced back into his throat, unheard. he was shaking now, every part of him begging and screaming to be released from this spell.

“stop struggling potter, it’s useless,” came the sniveling voice from somewhere beside him. he winced visably, the sound enough to cause another wave of anger. the figure walked closer, standing by the bowl in front of them. “would you like to take a trip, potter?”

—-

their eyes meet across the hall, as they had often done the past few weeks. they hesitated, locked and stared for much longer than both cared for. the dark haired boy jerked his head away, finding his food suddenly rather interesting. fade to black.

a flurry of robes, fists, blood. the dark haired boy had the other pinned to the ground, hands wrapped about his throat, blood blurring his vision to where all he could see was red. the blond haired boy made some sort of sound, a faint whimper at best, and the other suddenly released him; a terrifying thought that he might actually kill him came through his mind when he was suddenly hit with a fist square in the cheek. fade to black.

a muffled yell, the feel of cold stone and the hot body against his back. “fuck you, potter,” came the voice, cold and snide. there was a moment’s silence before a faint, “do it, then” came from the dark haired boy, stunning them both. fade to black.

the air whipping through their hair, the two were speeding towards one goal; the snitch. they collided, their hands both catching the snitch at the same moment, their brooms, and them, crashing together. silence, eyes heated as they glared at each other. the blond haired boy pulled him near, lips meeting the other’s roughly before releasing the snitch and pulling away. fade to black.

“mmph,” a soft voice, faint rustling sounds, the quietest sound of a tongue slipping across dry flesh. a sharp intake of breath, the faintest glimmer of moonlight before everything was engulfed into darkness once more, a soft chuckle. “no peeking, potter.” fade to black.

light filtered through the numerous trees surrounding them, the dark haired boy tied up against the rough bark of a large tree; the other blond haired boy at his knees, his mouth in the process of teasing him mercilessly. fade to black.

soft, muffled cries escaped the dark haired boy’s throat, his body jerking up and down erratically. the blond haired boy was kneeling behind him, small pale hands digging into the other boy’s hips, nails pressing into the flesh painfully. fade to black.

—-

they were suddenly retched back into the real world, the tall figure beside him making faint rasping sounds as he stumbled away from him.

“this is disgusting, potter.” came the voice as he neared him after a moment to regain his composure, he could barely make out the face of the lucius as he bent near him, his face suddenly coming into a startling clear view. lucius grasped his shoulders, his eyes filled with a silent rage.

“how dare you uses the imperius curse on my son for your disgusting, filthy perverted desires?” he spat, each word leaving specks of spittle on his face. the boy winced, trying to turn his head away, at the same time he felt like laughing in the old man’s face. how very wrong he had it. “well, what do you have to say for yourself, you disgusting freak?” he hissed, waving his wand. the boy swallowed and released he could now speak.

“draco loves to suck my cock.” he spat, a twisted grin spreading on his face. lucius bellowed in rage, smacking him across the face. the boy let out a laugh, racious and broken, stunning the older man. a door slammed open suddenly behind them, a shout quickly following the sound.

“harry!” came the startled shout, full of everything his father dreaded; fear, love, adoration, compassion. lucius growled, turning to his sun. “get out, draco. this is between me and the boy.” the sound of footsteps neared the boy, he felt a hand rest atop of his head; the fingers lovingly tracing through the dark hair. an eerie calm came over him then, everything would be alright.

“how dare you-” lucius spat, a sudden movement, a bright flash and the figure went flying into the bookshelf behind him. draco dropped to his knees in front of the boy, suddenly coming into view. harry grinned, mirroring draco’s. he released the spell and then their lips met, fast and hard, tongues dancing together wildly before drawing apart.

“are you sure-” draco hesitated, his eyes softening as he gazed upon his lovers’ face. the boy nodded, his jaw set firmly. another kiss, softer, more affectionate and slow than the the one before. 

a groan and the rustle of books shook them from their kiss, draco turned, his wand pointed at his father. coming to his senses, harry turned and picked up his glasses and his wand, moving to stand in front of draco. they stood quietly for a moment, gazing at each other with smiles, their wands raising. 

lucius stumbled to his feet, dumbfounded by what they were doing. he stepped forward, a spell at the tip of his tongue when the boys shouted a spell at the same moment and dropping to the floor.

—-

“it’s agreed then?” came the voice from the blond haired boy as he caressed the bare skin of the boy next to him. a faint nod, a soft, “yes,” as their lips met to seal the promise they had made. “are you sure?” asked the blond haired boy, his eyes searching the other’s dark green eyes for answers he knew he’d never find. “yes.”

a sudden reverie.

The slender dynx sat behind the small desk weighted down by a mountain of books, a small space opened up in the middle so he could still do transactions and talk to his customers. It had been a fairly busy morning with all the elderly women coming in with their boxes of romance books to trade in for another box of them. He’d gotten to know many of them pretty well over the last few years. But now that it was nearly 2 PM, the traffic had dwindled to practically nothing, as it always did, so Ira decided to take his lunch break.

Although it seemed a bit pointless, he would flip over the “Back in 10 minutes – Out To Lunch” sign on the door before unpacking his simple sandwich and celery with peanut butter to idly chew on while he read what seemed to be a large stack of notebook paper stapled together along the edge. Here and there he would grab the red pen beside the stack and mark something out, or write a note in the margin.

A sudden loud bell ringing caused Ira to jump, the front door opening in spite of the sign. Frustrated, Ira turned to tell them that they were closed for another 5 minutes, when his eyes fell upon the girl who had barged in. His mouth snapped shut as his long, slender ears fell back against his skull. Now, Ira wasn’t exactly the normal type of guy, who neither fawned after women and desired for girlfriends, nor were his eyes drawn to such women to gaze at their assets. Maybe it was the unique blue shade of her hair, or her species itself – a seemingly mixture of rodent and feline, or maybe even her bright red eyes with odd symbols in place instead of pupils.

“Oh, so you are actually having lunch!” She laughed as she made her way to his desk, leaning on the edge as she gazed at his lunch, the stack of papers and then Ira’s face. “Sorry to just barge in like this but I’m sorta in a hurry, gotta buy my little brother a special book and I heard I might be able to find it here.”

“O-oh, it’s quite alright.” Ira finally managed to stutter, moving to sit back in his chair as he drew his makeshift book closer to him. The girl turned and disappeared into the rows of bookshelves that rose nearly to the ceiling of the small establishment.

He returned to his lunch, finishing up his celery, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate on editing his book. He found himself reading the same sentence over and over, trying to decipher what he was trying to express.

“Found it! Grabbed some books for myself, as well.” The girl dropped about five used books onto the table, causing him to jump faintly and sit back, pressing his glasses up his snout. As he reached for the books to open the cover and see how much they were marked as, the girl suddenly bent forward and snatched the stapled book out from under him. Ira let out a startled cry as he reached for it, but was too slow.

“Hey! Give that back!”

Reverie giggled as she jumped back, reading over the front. “Oh, your name’s Ira? That’s pretty.” She complimented as she opened the first page, her eyes flicking back and forth as she read. Ira felt his cheeks grow red and hot as she read his work, him scrambling around the desk to grab it from her. She tried to dodge his hands, but ended up backing into a shelf and causing a small landslide of books to fall. Ira snagged the stack of papers and stumbled back, ears pinned back as he frowned across at her.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, I just wanted to check it out!” She exclaimed, looking rather hurt. Ira just stared across at her, dumbstruck.

“I-It isn’t finished yet, you mustn’t just grab other people’s things… it’s rude.” He mumbled before moving back behind the desk to place the book into his messenger bag.

Reverie just shrugged and turned to pick up the books she’d knocked off the shelves, kneeling down. Ira stood watching for a moment, before moving to ring up her books. Adding the price together on his large calculator, he printed off the small receipt and placed it on top of her books before coming back around to help her. The hybrid flashed him a smile as she stacked the books up, him nervously  picking up the ones out of her reach and placing them up on the shelf where they belong.

“I’m Reverie, by the way. ‘Though you can call me Rev, if you want. Or, Rie. Whichever.” She offered as she began to hand him books as he placed them in their rightful spots. Ira turned to take another book from her, and found his gaze dropping to her form, as she bent forward, her lowcut shirt allowed him to get a great view of her cleavage, and Ira felt his cheeks growing hot once more, him nearly jerking the  book out of her grasp and quickly turning away.

Reverie noticed but only grinned, sitting back and handing him another book.

“So you’re writing a murder mystery?” She asked.

“S-something like that, yes.” He replied as he tried to not look at her as he took the books from her hands, before kneeling down as he moved to the next shelf.

“Well tell me about it!” She demanded cheerfully, her glistening crimson eyes wide and inviting as she smiled up at him. Ira was reluctant at first, but soon found himself explaining the intricate, maze-like plot that was his story, and long after the books had been put back – they sat there on the floor, talking. It was only when it had grown dark that Ira pulled himself out of the heated discussion they were having on which book-to-movie adaption was the worst.

“O-oh… it’s gotten pretty late.” He found himself reverting to his former self, stammering and unsure of himself.

“Huh, so it has.” Reverie turned to look out the window. The room had gotten dark – Ira saved money by not turning on the lights during the day like most places unless it was too overcast to see well. They were both slowly shrouded in darkness, followed quickly by silence. Ira planned on getting up to at least turn the lights on, but found himself frozen in place. The girl sitting in front of him was gazing at him with a rather intent look, almost as if she was impatiently waiting for him to do something…

Ira had seen this a hundred times, read about it in countless books, but it had never happened to him. Before he could decide what he should do, he found himself suddenly smothered by the girl, her arms flung around his neck as she pressed in against him, their lips meeting moments later in a flurry of confusion. Ira sat there, dumbfounded as the girl was half-straddling his lap, lips pressed firmly against his. Slowly, her crimson eyes peeked through her thick lashes as he sat there, wide-eyed and frozen.

Finally, Ira lifted his paws to grab her by the waist and gently pull her way, but as his fingers slid over the soft, warm fur (she was wearing one of those midriff shirts), he felt himself seize up once more. His thumbs slid along the curve of her waist, ruffling through the sleek fur as he gazed across at her. He felt her lips stretch into a small smile as she pressed in once more, taking his touches as a sign of shared desire.

Ira felt confused as his body grew hot, he felt lightheaded and almost dizzy. As if out of instinct, he pushed in against her mouth ever so gently, his ears folding back as his paws held her sides as if she were made of glass…

To Be Continued, Maybe.

fatal.

Something I wrote a few months ago when I couldn’t sleep…

There was nothing more soothing to Maddie than the ambience of a crowded late night diner. The silverware and plates scraping together, murmured and not so murmured conversations; rautious laugher, heated arguments, murmured words of passion all coming togther in unison to create the perfect symphony to the woman’s ears. Her unruly auburn hair fell over her features as her head rolled back, allowing her eyes to close, taking in the sounds around her. Her lips twitched, as if meaning to smile, but never quite getting there. Her fingers, cut loose from her black-knit gloves, gently caressed and played over the warm cup between her hands, the hot chocolate steaming up to create a most rousing, wonderful aroma. Madison was only in her late twenties (alright, lets be realistic - she’d be thirty next month), but her face seemed older than that somehow, the creases in her forehead, the wrinkles caused by constant frowning marring her otherwise smooth cheeks. Her lips seemed permanently chapped, the  bottom constantly being chewed and bitten on. The heavy dark circles  beneath her golden hazel eyes were becoming more and more apparent, unable to be hidden by concealer. Not that she’d used it in nearly over a year now. Her eyes seemed dull and void of life, even as they flicked from table to table, watching the customers with a look that seemed almost envious. 

Just as her hand moved to take another cigarette from her pack, the waitress approached, a deathly skinny gal that she’d come to know as Aggy; barely eighteen and a meth addict. “The usual, Maddie?” Her voice was quiet and submissive, much like the girl it belonged to.

“As always, m’dear.” Came the rich, throaty voice of the female slunched back in the booth, her form was hardly what anyone would call slender, but they’d be hard-pressed to call her fat, either. She filled out her black t-shirt with a sweater slung over, those dark blue jeans tucked into a pair of black pleather knee high boots, which would tap rthymically against the grimey, sticky floor beneath her. She’d resume procuring that slender stick from her pack, pressing the filter between her lips before lighting up the end. She inhaled deeply and without thought - she’d been smoking since she was about 13, nothing came more natural to her except the act of breathing and being cynical. Smoke filtered out of her mouth and nostrils, that cigarette resting idly between her lips. Her gaze was seated upon the table in with her hands were planted on, her thumbs brushing over the smooth plastic of the menu placed in front of her. Thoughts filtered through her brain like the smoke spilling from her mouth, but none seemed to stick or be noticed by the female. Whispered words and memories replaying in her mind as if on a scratched dvd, playing the same scene over and over and over and over until she felt like screaming. Sometimes her lip would twitch, a hand would clench, etc. 

Suddenly her vision was encompassed by a plate of smothered cheese fries, a healthy dollop of ranch settled on top. Her head would lift to offer a smile to Aggy.

“So, it’s day 8. You sure you gon’ be okay?” The waitress looked openly concerned, her brow knit into that knowing worried look. Maddie just smiled and waved a dismissive hand.

“It’ll come, it always does.” Another concerned glance, before the ringing annoouncing more customers drew Aggy away. Out of habit, the girl’s eyes rose to the door, watching as a rather large group of young men stumbled into the diner. Doning tight jeans, leather jackets, untied boots and greasy hair and the small gaggle of fangirls following after (starry-eyed and hoping to score, no doubt), it wasn’t hard for her to guess that the local venue had just closed. Her gaze caught that of one of the boys (men? she couldn’t really seem to call them that, even if they were legal adults) admist the crowd waiting to be seated. Their eyes caught, as if stuck in a rut for a mere second or more longer than normal, before drifting off once more. Maddie blinked slowly, as if coming out of a reverie, her lips parting in a small gasp that nearly dropped her cigarette into her lap. She turned her head to try and catch the male once more, but they were being ushered to the large booth off to the right, and she couldn’t find him admist the black-clad group around him. Shaking her head, she’d drop her gaze, her hand moving to start on the pile of fries before her. 

Closing her eyes, Maddie was transported back to her high school prom. It was mainly a blur of alcohol, drugs, sex and music. Somehow they’d convinced the principal to let them play, mainly because they’d given him a tape of their acoustic songs - none of which they planned to play that night. They’d only gotten a few songs in before they got pulled down, much to the disapproval of at least half the class. She’d vaguely recall the group of girls in the corner, cowering in their larger-than-life princess dresses while their boyfriends tried not to headbang to the songs blaring out of the speakers. 

The next thing Madison remembers is standing outside under the awning of the diner. She’s pulling her coat on, watching the rain start to drift down from the skies. She glances at her cellphone to catch the time - nearly 6 AM. She could see the greying of the horizon, the sun was coming. A cigarette stuffed into her mouth, she moved to light it when the door swung open behind her - her inhaling sharply and nearly coughed as the boy(man?) she’d noticed before walked through, shrugging on his patched and tattered jacket on. “Bum a smoke?” He asked in a smooth, quiet voice, his gaze never leaving the rainy horizon. She’d fumble for her pack, holding open the pack for him to take his pick. He’d nod in thanks, and she just stared mutely at him for a moment. Cigarette held tightly between her lips, she slowly withrew it with her yellowed fingers, a quiet ‘woosh’ as all that smoke-infiltrated air escaped her tarred and battered lungs. 

“That your band?” She asked finally, her shifting back and forth on her feet, feeling a surge of excitement and life trembling through her veins that she couldn’t remember feeling for years. Her pulse fluttered, her ears rang. A quiet laugh brought her out of her thoughts, her turning her head towards him.

“Are we that obvious?” He’d ask, smoke escaping his mumbling lips.

“A little.” She answered.

A hand drifted through his hair, brushing the long locks and tucking them back behind his ear. Large plastic glasses settled onto his nose. “Yeah, we aren’t much yet, but we’ll get there.” He reassured her, as if she’d ever doubted him. 

“From your lack of groupies, I suppose you’re not the lead singer.” She flashed a sort of smile, or something close to it. Maybe even a little chuckle.

“You’d suppose wrong,” he flashed her an identical smile, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Wow, color me surprised.” She laughed. 

Holy shit. She hadn’t laughed like that in god knows how long. She felt herself getting flushed. It was just the rain, she told herself; she found that she could sleep when it rained. It made her sane again.

He moved to speak again, some words she couldn’t hear as her phone began to ring from her pocket. She excused herself and walked off a few steps, JAREN flashing on the screen.

“Hey.”

“I’m at Freddy’s - yeah, of course, where else would I be?”

“N-no, of course not. You know I can’t sleep. I’ve tried!”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous- Yes, you are. I’ll be home soon.” 

There was a faint heave of shoulders before she stuffed the phone back into her pocket and turned back to head to her car, in her distress, she’d forgotten all about that man(boy?) she’d given a cigarette to and who’d made her feel more alive than she had in years. He stood there quietly, most of his cigarette gone. She halted in her steps, giving an awkward sort of shuffle of her feet.

“Insomnia?” He asked as she tried to think of something to say.

“Mmm.” She nodded, biting harshly upon her bottom lip. Her cigarette forgotten in her hand, the ashes growing before being knocked off as her hand bumped her hip.

“How long?” He dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his boot before shoving his hands into his jeans, thumbs protruding out.

“A little over a week, now.” The answer came as a matter-of-fact, it was jus something she was used to. He seemed stunned by that answer, eyebrows lifting, eyes widening to show off two beautiful silveryblue iris’. 

He gave a heartfelt “jesus christ” as he just gazed across at her for a moment. She was standing in the rain, droplets hanging in her wild, uncombed hair, clinging to her shoulders and arms. All she could do was shrug and give an apologetic smile, as if she’d given some of her burden to him by telling her dark secrets. 

“I come here when I can’t sleep. The noise helps.” She offered more than needed, feeling this sudden overwhelming need to purge her thoughts, her hurts, her desires, her loves, everything hidden in that heart to the manboy (she still hadn’t decided yet) slouched a few feet away from her. Her heart was bursting with it, her chest tightening, her fingers clenching. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rest of his group coming for the door. Her heart sank.

He must have heard it, too, as he turned his head faintly, then gave her another smile.

“Maybe I’ll see you around.”

All she could do was nod, before forcing her legs to move towards her car. She nearly crashed three times on the way home; her heart was racing, but yet she was suddenly so tired. She barely made it into the house before collapsing onto the couch. She slept the entire day.