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 Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2014 10:49 pm
Friday
Finn was her friend. He was a good friend. He didn't ask questions. He came when she called.
Her eyes were wide as his finger dragged down her lips.
Get on with it. Hurry up. I hate this. Kill me.
She accepted his mouth but it felt like a mouth. The hand on her side felt like a hand. Her nails clawed into his hair and it felt like hair. There was awkwardness that hung in the air wherein both acknowledged that neither was particularly interested in the movement, merely the bodily functions. Awareness killed sensuality.
The kiss was rough, and she let it go on for a second too long. Her mouth broke free for a moment as she quickly leaned away to tear off her shirt.
I want this. I want this. I want this.
If she said it enough times, it would be true.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 12:52 am
Dreams
In the infirmary, Chel dreamt.
A white room, pristine. There were no walls, no floor. Just a void of white. She sat naked, on the rim of a fountain where she dipped her feet in the water. Her hair was blonde. It didn't seem strange, her nakedness. A strange sort of primal peace resided over the room.
Tenebrae sat on the other side of the fountain, his figure obscured in a gray sort of haze. Chel knew it was him. Tenebrae moved, footsteps like water, to sit by her side. His hand gently touched hers.
“You dyed your hair blue.” A small hand came to rake through blue and green, like it was playing in water. Nevada wondered why she never dyed her hair...
Chel turns to the sound of the voice. "Oh Nevada darlin' .... you're beautiful." Her mouth was agape, unable to comprehend Nevada's serene peace. She'd said the words a thousand times when she was living. She never wanted Nevada to feel ugly.
No one ever asked her how she felt. She had broken up with Nevada in the thrums of war- why did she get any say on how she felt about her death? She never got to say that she treated Nevada so wrong and that that little angel deserved a hell of a lot more than sex every night with not so much as a word in the morning. She never got to say that Nevada had always been more beautiful than any girl on the island- eye included. How they'd actually had a pretty good thing going and that scared her more than anything.
”It makes you seem alien like. From a different world.” Her hand dropped away, as she smiled at Chelsea. “Are you from a different world Chelsea?”
It took Chel a moment to register what she was saying. "I am now, Brownie." Her lip twitched. "You up and left me 'fore I said goodbye." Chel never got time to mourn. No one allowed her anything for Nevada. The fountain cracked and the water driveled free, pouring along the ground and forming rivers. Nevada stands, facing the fields that grow from the rivers. Flowers begin to bloom, color erupting from every crevice to sing Nevada's triumphant arrival. Yet the room still feels empty, and Chel feels tinier still.
It is a sunny day, and she beckons her close, holds her close. Chel can feel her skin on Nevada's once more. She says nothing. She wants Nevada back. She wants Nevada to come home.
“Rejection hurts.” She stated, lacing her hands through Chelsea's. “And it makes you feel empty on the inside. You aren't empty, you've got a lot of love. It's just different you know, some aren't use to it.”
She bursts in to tears, her face contorting in ugly shapes. She allows herself to cry for the first time since Monday. Hot shame melds her to Nevada, two bodies temporarily sharing one space. She allows herself to admit that she hates herself in the form of water creating oceans out of tears. She hates every inch of her skin. She hates the wrinkle of her nose when she laughs and when she cries. She hates the brain that won't allow her more than average. She hates that every time she sees a needle she wants to scream. She hates piercings and tattoos because she wants them. She hates every blonde hair on her head and wants to rip them out one by one. She hides under false confidence to keep herself from harshing everyone's mood. She hates ******** any human with a pulse to keep herself from believing she's ********. She is ********. Never once has someone said they wanted to live their life with her. She'd never gotten to imagine a wedding dress because there had never been need to. She hated the way Finn said darling and she hated the term "Hallowlesbians." She hated the way her tears were making Nevada's shoulder wet.
Nevada pats her head, once, twice.
Nevada paused, “Some are still lingering.”
She misses Nevada.
She should have never let Nevada go.
She regrets Nevada.
She wants her Brownie back.
God she was beautiful.
Would Nevada let her join? Would she get a pretty white dress too, or would it be stained green? Blue? What color would she get? She opens her mouth to plead for transcendence, but Nevada speaks first.
It was quiet, Nevada's fingers gently touching a very red string compared to her white dress. “Some of us are tied by fate, to remember, to forget, to lose, to gain.” She smiled again at Chelsea, closing the eye that wasn't bandaged. Tenebrae stirs by the fountain, but it is too late.
"Then how come all of mine are cut?" Chel screams suddenly. Strings erupt from every angle of her body, all colors and patterns; they twist around her neck and they choke her, chain her. Her body sags contorts like the Vitruvian Man; she is forced into a position; she is a puppet. The strings connect to nothing but reach for the sky anyways, they pull and tug her in every direction even though she begs and begs for it to stop. Some ends lay frayed, others sharp and clean. Others still seemed to stretch on forever, but always ended within sight. They end, they end. The strings tether her to the ground. She doesn't have pretty wings like Nevada.
She can feel the hot, wet stream of tears on her face, but her hands are tied.
“Everything is a trial, everything happens for a reason...” She held her hand out for Chelsea, “Do you want me to comfort you still?” Nevada's hands cup her cheeks. Her hands are cold.
Chel is silent.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 7:16 pm
FridayThere was a moment, when the kiss broke off, when she pulled away from his hands, that he thought about changing his mind. But he had already told her yes, and there was a stubborn part of him that couldn't and wouldn't back down now. In fact, he had no idea why any part of him would be balking at all. (He knew why, he just refused to acknowledge it). She didn't want him, not really at least, and he could tell. It didn't stop his own fingers from unbuttoning his shirt, revealing toned muscles and scars beneath (but she had seen those before). As long as she wanted to keep going, he would keep going. Just this one time. Just this once, because he wasn't going to make a liar out of himself. Shirt was hurriedly discarded, the belt soon followed. Jeans next, socks. He was on his knees and he was grabbing for her, pulling her closer, kissing her neck, working his way further down. His mouth was experienced, and so was his tongue. He didn't need a mantra to convince himself that he wanted her. He simply needed to flick the switch, the one that turned off that part of him that had wanted to say no, the one that illuminated his ability to give no ********, the one that told him that this was going to be great because he would make it ******** great, even if she didn't feel the same way as he did by the end of it. He hadn't made any promises, after all.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 7:35 pm
Friday
She let him; there was an allowance of consent. Her knees bumped against his clumsily and she shivered as his hands slid to places they weren't supposed to. Good, good. It was starting to kick in, come on. Come on kick in already you stupid ******** head rose, eyes on the ceiling while her nails raked down his back. Gravity was her pawn as she pulled him downwards, her back finding its familiar place in her sheets as her hands frantically tried to figure out where they were comfortable staying. Almost demanding, she pulled his head back up to her face to kiss him again. She couldn't let her eyes be open for even a moment. Finn was stagnant, but warm- so warm and comfortable. Jack had been hard, rough. Nevada was sweet, naive, gentle. The list went on and on. So many different people had touched her and all of them had been both a blur and completely different.
She was smiling, uncouthly trying to fool herself (Finn wasn't fooled, he was too smart for that) into believing this. Believing that she could return to a previous life. She was a whore.
She was a whore.
In Finn's frame she saw Jack. She saw Nevada. It blotted out her light and all she saw was him above her. He was beautiful. He was a goddamn work of art.
It was then that Chel started crying.
Like a little b***h.
Her hands snaked to cup his cheeks between them, her thumb moving across his face. "Finn-" She wasn't sure where she was going with her sentence, the word just escaped her. Her voice cracked as she hiccuped a massive sob that shook her entire body.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 9:54 pm
Dreams
One bye one, Nevada was weaving different colored strings together, tying them back together as if they hadn't been cut. She offered her creation to Chelsea. "They aren't cut, not yet." She waited for Chelsea to take it, "Fate is not so easy to unravel." She kept waiting. She would always wait. "You are not so easy to unravel Chelsea."
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:00 pm
Dreams
She was laying with Chelsea in the field of flowers, the field that Chelsea had given her. She plucks a flower, places it in the woman's blue hair, lacing them through. Tenebrae sits beside them. He is watching, waiting. Occasionally he puts a flower in Nevada's hand. Sometimes he removes one from Chel's hair.
Chel wonders why she was wasting time on something she'd remove from her hair anyways. She thought more logically these days.
"You can't join me here." Chel opens her mouth to protest. Nevada says softly, "Not that I would mind, but this is not a place for you."
She wonders if there is a place for her.
Nevada looks up at the sky, but saw the void. She had no part in this world, and the only reason she was here? Chelsea had made this for her. "It'd be soft pink. Your dress." She laughs, and rolls Chelsea over and over. "But you don't want dresses Chelsea." Chel kisses her. It feels nice, for a time.
She thinks of Jack. A pit settles in her stomach. Lightning cracks the sky into a rumble of thunder. The dream is falling apart.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:27 pm
There were thoughts that Finn wouldn't allow himself to have at that moment. There were actions that he wouldn't allow himself the pleasure of committing. Usually, when he was with a woman, almost always when he was with a woman, there was nothing gentle about it. He was not something warm and soft to take comfort in. He was cold. He did this for himself. He needed the pain, needed his partner to hurt, would even sometimes let them hurt him in return. Masochist. Sadist. Whatever they wanted to call him. He guessed he was both. But Chel wasn't just some drunken girl he picked up in the bar. Chel wasn't some one night stand that he would never see again. In a way, Chel was a lot like Fini, in that he didn't feel the need to hurt her, not unless she wanted him to, but in another way, Chel was not like Fini at all, because he felt like Chel was already in enough pain. She could smile, she could pretend, she could go through the motions (he could too). But he'd done this enough times. He knew when something was off. He knew. But he thought that she would at least have the ******** decency to hold it in until he was ******** finished with her. Hell, he'd barely even gotten a chance to start. "Oh, ********>." His jaw clenched, twitched, and before he knew it there were hands on his face, hands that he instinctively pulled away from. "No." He said. "<********> no, you aren't pulling me into whatever drama bullshit you've got going on, Chelsea. No!" The only time a girl got to cry when he was with her, is when he caused that ******** pain, when he hit them too hard, when he took things too far.
He hadn't caused this. There was not a single thing gratifying about it. "It's s**t like this that is going to make me go full ******** homo, I hope you know that."
There wasn't even a trace of humor in his voice when he said it.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:37 pm
Friday
Her hands fell over her face, trying to cover it up, wipe it away. "I swear I-" Hiccup. "I never done this before." Another heavy breath rocked her body. She tried to stop it, she really did. Finn didn't deserve this. Finn didn't need to be dragged in, he was right. She was a ******** lately. He was right, he was right, he was right.
She shouldn't have used him like this.
Like anything.
Finn was a good friend.
"M'sorry," was all she could crack out. Her hands couldn't pick if they wanted to wipe the tears away, or if they wanted to ring the sheets, or if they wanted to grab Finn and finish it.
It meant nothing to Finn, she knew that. The apology, the sex.
It meant nothing to any of them anymore.
And now they were awkwardly stuck in this position.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:44 pm
FridayHe should have left when he'd had the chance, before anything had even happened. He'd thought about it. He should have just ******** done it. But no, now he was stuck here, at least, until he could put all of his clothes back on and get the hell out of Dodge. "Shut. Up." He growled, pushing himself away from her, landing on his back, rolling, sitting up, feet hitting the floor. "Shut your ******** mouth." The temptation to tell her "or I'll shut it for you" was there. It was. But he couldn't bring himself to say it to her. Besides the fact that she could probably kick his a**. Stupid better weapon bond bullshit. Underwear first. Jeans. He was so ******** done with this. Gathering up his belt, socks, shirt, he walked out of the room. He came back a few seconds later with a bottle of water he'd gotten out of the fridge, which he oh so graciously chucked at her head. "Drink that. And for the love of everything stop crying it's ******** disgusting."
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:49 pm
Friday
Disgusting was a good word.
As Finn dressed himself, she didn't know where to put herself. Stop him? Of course not. Finn was in control. Jack was in control. Nevada tied the strings. She just stayed there, in the same position he'd left her.
The bottle hit her in the stomach, jarring her upwards even if she didn't want to. It racked another round of sobs from her. Frustrated with a bottlecap for the first time in her life, she said, "Can you just-" Her breath stuttered as her sobs caught up to her. "Leave?" She didn't want Finn to see her like this. She didn't want anyone to see her like this.
Really she would have stopped crying if he wasn't there. It wasn't even an overwhelming feeling, it was just the hot shame of doing something so despicable as having an emotion other than lust.
"I'm all of the ab-ab-above so just leave." She knew Finn would. She wouldn't admit to wanting needing his company, but she wouldn't make him stay.
Finn is a good friend.
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Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 10:58 pm
Dreams
Her finger draws over Chelsea's nose.
"You're taking steps back Chelsea."
"Falling back into old patterns."
"Falling back into easy partners."
"Falling back to what's safe."
"Falling back on what you know."
She is quiet.
"You deserve to be better to yourself."
"No," she whispers, a voice tinier than sound allows for.
"You deserve love."
She would clutch her face, and kiss away the tears if she could, but it is too late.
"You'll be loved Chelsea. I know it. I'm watching."
The color is gone, the fields are dead. The sky shatters and the winds howl. The dream is over. She wakes up in the infirmary with a smile on her face. She is crying.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 6:58 pm
FridayShe couldn't have stopped him if she'd tried, though a small part of him wished that she would try, just so that he might have an excuse to--- No, he wouldn't think like that right now. Not the time, not the place. Right now he just wanted to leave, and luckily enough, Chelsea was asking him to do the same. "Gladly." He couldn't have been ******** paid to stay. "Have a great ******** night Chelsea." But not a great night ********, because she'd ruined that. And then he was gone.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 7:08 pm
Saturday
Puffy eyes scan the hallway for any sight of him. She hides behind sunglasses. It seems unreliable to just leave it sitting in front of his door. Hunters were dicks.
She entrusts the package to Ripley.
Ripley is a good friend.
She was saving it for Finn's birthday, but it feels like he needs it more now. Anything to earn his attention back. She can't stand being hated.
Finn is a good friend.
One xbox, one bottle, a second bottle for luck. Three hundred dollars for games and the subsequent runic process. She doesn't even know what kind of games he likes. Her extra money from the zombie mission is utterly obliterated. She just knows that bribing people to be your friend is better than not having friends.
She wonders if Finn and Ripley will play together.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 7:11 pm
Saturday
It dawns on her that Finn can't be a booty call for her anymore.
It's a huge loss.
Damn.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 7:52 pm
Saturday
She calls Chris, but it goes to voicemail. She would text, but she wants to hear another human's voice that doesn't make her want to vomit. She needs her cousin.
"Hey Chris. Come over tonight. We'll find something to do. I'm just bored as ********>." They'll probably play Mario Kart. She only owns the one game. No money for other games. "Or I can come hang with you. I don't care. Give me somethin' to do." Then her voice hits a shrill pitch. "HUGS AND KISSES FOREVER MOON OF MY LIFE ST-" The voicemail cuts off there.
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