the first day of my life

ooc; Okay, this is a sort of introductory post to a random character that
popped into my head earlier. So, not much really happens in it, but you get an idea
about this guy's personality and such. It's nothing spectacular, but y'know. I'll probably
do a follow up drabble to it, but this is all that I managed to get for it now. Hope it's
alright.

It was Oliver’s first day of work and, oh my god, he was so nervous. He’d be anticipating this day for the past forty-eight hours after he got a telephone call from the manager to inform him that he was to be coming into work on the Monday. Oh, if only you’d seen the young lad’s reaction. Hearing it over the phone was nothing in comparison to such an amazing visual expression of joy. It wasn’t as if the job was a life-changing thing for him. It was hardly something that he could say was something he wanted to pursue and make his life revolve around. Goodness, no. It was a job at Starbucks, for crying out loud. He didn’t want to be making coffee for the rest of his life, nor did he want to be cleaning up other peoples’ messes that they left on the tables and such. But it was his first job.

That’s right. Oliver was a mere seventeen years old, having only turned this five weeks ago. He’d never managed to get a job anywhere else because they felt he was too young and, frankly, he didn’t seem the sort that would be particularly experienced with talking to customers and being of good service. No, typically he was.. well, a bit of a nervous wreck. Even when he was at home on his own, he always managed to find some way to knock over a glass full of cranberry juice or nudge a ceramic plate off a table until it met its untimely demise at the hands of the kitchen floor. And he wasn’t really the best at talking to people, either, especially people he didn’t really know. His words would fail him and he’d accidentally say something he wasn’t supposed to, sometimes even saying something that could be classed as insulting without really meaning it. There had been one than one occasion when he’d tried to compliment a woman on her appearance and then, by fault, ended up insulting her instead. The poor dear.

Wearing a pair of simple, black slacks, and a white t-shirt, the male reached out with his hand and pressed against the metal handle of the door, instantly being greeted by the overwhelming smell of coffee and food, and various chattering noises from the customers, most of which appeared to be students who were quickly getting a bit of a pick-me-up before heading off to class. Oliver glanced about nervously as he stepped slowly into the establishment, eyeing the staff wearily as he tried to figure out who might be showing him the ropes and whether or not any of them appeared to be the sort that he should generally avoid. He wasn’t really the sort to judge a book by its cover, but people that you get a bad vibe from were probably best to leave be on your first day.

Clearing his throat as he reached the counter, he eyed the girl standing behind it, looking at him as if she really didn’t want to be there. Heck, she looked like that typical grumpy teen with her eyes half-lidded as she looked him over, waiting impatiently for him to speak.
“Oh, um, I’m the.. um, new worker here..” Poor Oliver stumbled over his words as he struggled to get them past his lips, his heart racing like he’d just run a marathon. “I, um.. I’m meant to be starting today and, um..”

“Come with me.” she stated simply, her voice matching the tired monotony of her expression as she moved around from the counter, leaving her co-worker to deal with the steadily growing queue for cappuccinos and lattés. Oliver quickly followed after her, pausing every few seconds or so to allow a customer or another worker to walk passed. They steadily drew closer to a back room which was labelled with a small plaque that said ‘Staff Only’. Oliver had always thought of these rooms to be quite magical. No one but the staff knew what hid behind these doors, much like the staff room at school where every single student wanted so desperately to enter the magical world that teachers would retreat to during breaks and lunch to discuss their students and watch the football. There were always rumours floating about the school that there was a Jacuzzi in there, or that they had a pool table. And Oliver felt a certain excitement as they drew closer and closer to this room, expecting something amazing or mysterious. He may have been seventeen, but his imagination was as wild as the rest of them.

There was an almost disappointed groan as the door was opened to reveal quite a simple, small room with just a few chairs, a little television, a mini-fridge and a small table. It was nice in there, but not anything that he’d expected. He paused as he woman in front stopped directly where he was about to tread, a sort of stumbling motion ensuing as he had to quickly step to the side of her, nearly falling quite unevenly onto the side of his foot.
“Luke, get off your ass. You’ve got a new guy to train up.” And with that, the girl left the room, almost barging into poor Oliver as he stood silently, staring in front of him where he hadn’t actually noticed a person sitting before. He’d expected for this Luke to stand up, offer him a kind smile and then start guiding him around the place, but no.. he just remained sat there, gaze hidden behind a magazine which.. looked quite questionable for the distance that the younger male was standing at. His head tilted as he tried to figure out just what the magazine was, the mixture of the dimly lit room and his short-sightedness not particularly helping in this situation.

“Ar-are you reading porn?” the male stammered, staring at the twenty-five year old with quite wide eyes. Oliver wasn’t an innocent lad, and he had seen his fair share of magazines and such, but.. maybe not enough to not find this situation a little bit shocking. Green eyes flicked up to look at Oliver, taking in the quite small teen’s form, noting the air of nervousness and uncertainty that was enveloping him. And, at that, Luke smiled softly, a quite reassuring smile that almost surprised the teen.

“I’m guessing you’re Ollie then, right?” he inquired, head tilting a little as he closed the magazine and placed it to sit on a table beside him.

“Um, yeah. Well, Oliver, but Ollie’s okay, I guess..”

i'll be waiting here for you to call me

Ooc; This is a drabble in response to one that Cali wrote when Phoenix was in another country, working on a film and Oscar was forced to stay behind due to his own schedule. Oscar is mine and Phoenix is Cali's. I was listening to What If by Simple Plan and, also, Save You by Simple Plan. Hope it's good enough. :'D

He was barely concentrating on what he was doing, gaze seeming focused but a vacant feel swamping around his actions. Oscar was usually one to be exceptionally enthusiastic when it came to his work. He thrived behind the camera, enjoyed it to such an extent that it was very rare for the young man to be seen out and about without a camera bag on his shoulder or a small compact tucked into his pocket. But today was different. He didn’t seem as happy and smiley as he was usually when setting up his stranger fashion shoots, his more in-depth ideas that he managed to often come up with due to lack of sleep or spending a day on the set of one of Phee’s films and imagining all of the possibilities that films seemed to provide.

Today, Oscar wasn’t up to the usual standard that he held for himself when it came to his photography, but it took one of his regular models to bring it fully to his attention. The girl was dressed in such a flamboyant red dress, her hair fiery and make-up looking so fierce and perfect, but she so easily showed that sympathetic expression between each frame as a small sigh would pass over Oscar’s lips, the male’s gaze frequently flicking to look over to the empty door frame. All he could see through it was a small portion of the living room, not the person that he could so often look to to bring a smile to his face. Phoenix was almost like his inspiration. He helped keep him going and helped just let those ideas fit so easily into place, but without him there.. he was lost. And he looked it, clicking away with his camera but not being as directive as normal, not trying to think of weird and wonderful poses that could just add that little bit more.

“Oscar?” the girl’s voice was soft, comforting in a way but not what he needed to stop that aching feeling in his chest.
“Hmm? Yeah, Michelle?”
“Sweetie, you’ve been looking over at that wall for the past couple of minutes.. are you okay?” The wall that she spoke of was one to the side of the studio area, the one where Oscar usually sat working on editing photos on his laptop or fiddling about with his camera equipment. The original, plain white paint was littered with years’ worth of photographs, but not fashion portraits, nor truly professional images. They were all little captures from years of his life, little things that could remind him of how much he’d grown as a person and how there was one person that had always been there for him. A great portion of that wall was covered with images of a younger Oscar and a younger Phoenix, most of which were taken nearer the beginning of their relationship when they’d had all the time in the world to be together. The male’s heart would always flutter when he looked at that wall, seeing the highlights of the years he had spent with his loved one, but now it just sent a gentle pang through his system.

“Um.. yeah, I’m fine. I, um, I think we’ll just leave it at that today, Michelle. Thanks.” The twenty-seven-year old nodded softly at the model before turning and tugging his camera up over his head and then placing it down on the table in front of him. He could look through the product of his day later - now he just wanted to focus on getting Michelle cleaned up and sending her on her way. He just needed to be alone for a while.. well, no, that’s a lie. He didn’t need to be alone. He needed to be with Phoenix, he needed to be close to him. He needed to be able to curl up in his arms and go to sleep to the sound of his breathing. He needed to spend more than the limited one hour talking with him on the phone and instead be able to hear him talking face to face with him. He needed that uplifting feeling that Phee always sent rushing through his body by his mere presence. But he couldn’t have that.

Phee had been away for a good few weeks now, working on a film that he had been unable to film within range of their home, a film that the younger male had seemed so excited about before. Their telephone conversations had been so light-hearted at the beginning, but seemed to so quickly melt into something quite heart-wrenching, something that made Oscar miss Phoenix even more to the point where he felt almost ill. He couldn’t tell Phee enough just how much he was missing him, nor could he express it in any other way. The phone limited their contact so much, alongside the difference in time zones. When it was lunchtime for Phee, it would be time for Oscar to go to sleep so they were truly limited to that one hour a day.

The moment that Michelle left, he got changed into his pyjamas and settled down on the sofa in the living room, a small pot of ice cream held in his hand. It was becoming a sort of three ‘o’ clock in the afternoon tradition for him now, to sit in his pyjamas with some mint ice cream in the silence of the apartment, only able to hear the occasional car outside the open window. If he had the choice, he would have happily called Phoenix there and then and just begged him to come home, but he knew he couldn’t. Phee would probably be in the middle of shooting now, and he didn’t want to interrupt anything, no matter how desperately he wanted to just hear his love’s voice. It was always Phoenix that called, because the brunette would always worry about disrupting a scene by calling. He knew that they could sometimes overrun with filming, as had been experienced the other night when he had nearly fallen asleep before Phee’s call, and so he didn’t call him, even when he felt so desperate like now.

Gently touching his feet against the carpeted floor, Oscar slipped himself from the sofa, leaving the tub of ice cream and its spoon on the table. Padding softly into his studio once more, the male’s gaze fell back upon the various printed images upon his wall, the smallest of smiles twitching onto his lips as he gazed at the various faces that the red-head pulled in each photo. His goofy grins and wonderful expressions that could just so easily make Oscar giggle like a school-girl. The male reached out and touched against the glossy paper that each image was inked upon, the tips of his fingers oh-so gently stroking against the curly locks permanently printed upon the page. It wasn’t the same, but it brought comfort.. managed to drag a smile onto his lips as he thought just how soft Phee’s hair felt between his fingers and how tender his touch was. He just missed him so much and there was so much around him that reminded him of the man he loved, but nothing could amount to the real thing.

Two hours later, Oscar lay curled up beneath the covers on their bed, his soft breaths sounding so content, his expression sharing a sense of ease that sleep seemed to cast over him. His dreams may not have been real, but they felt it and it was almost as if Phee were there with him, curled up beside him and snuggling close. The disappointment of waking up alone would surely follow, but for now his features told how he was thinking of so much more comfortable moments than lying by himself in a rather cold bed, the corners of his lips curved partly. The wall in his studio was no longer as full as it had been, various photographs having been taken down over the course of an hour. Now, there was barely a gap left upon the pale wall at the head of the bed. Each space covered with one image or another; from the photographs taken when they had first moved into the apartment to their occasional trips to the shops in search of rubber ducks. It made such a difference for Oscar because, now, even though Phee wasn’t there to curl up with, it was almost like he was in the room, looking after him by simply watching over him with those caring eyes.

lately i've been hard to reach

A steady stream of water poured from the faucet, trickling quite strongly out into the open air and down into a cool, clear glass. The sound was soothing as liquids pushed through pipes beneath the metal sink, creating that pressurised fizz like the elongated sound of a bottle of soft drink being opened for the first time.. that almost pleasurable sound that always seemed to remind the young girl stood, a majority of her body covered in cotton pyjamas and a pair of soft slippers, at the sink of the beach or hanging out with a small group of friends. There were always little things that made Taylor smile; like how little baby James’ confused expression managed to mimic his father’s perfectly, or the little gurgling noises that Danny made whenever he saw his Uncle Louis [who seemed to have softened to the idea of his brother being a dad].

But, for some reason, today was one of those days where she couldn’t really keep that smile of hers going. Taylor’s eyes gazed dreamily at the water as it steadily began to fill the glass, hand extended, waiting for the right moment to turn the tap and cease that cascade of liquid from flowing into the sink. She’d felt like this for the past few weeks now, a sort of.. reluctance in how she used to act and the things she used to do before she got pregnant. It was no secret to most that Taylor enjoyed sex. She relished in the feeling of being that close to someone, having such a power over them but then being at the mercy of their ideas and desires. She enjoyed sharing someone else’s body heat, hearing breathy moans in her ear, and getting entirely lost in the moment. But, ever since the twins were born.. it wasn’t the same in her mind. Well, not entirely.

The play of muscles underneath skin, the sweat gathering as motions strengthen, the tight sensation of hands grasping at her form.. all of these things still played in her head, made her feel so god damn horny that it was almost unbearable. But then, other things would slip into her head; her stretch marks, the slight bit of baby weight that she still had to lose, the more tired droop to her eyes. They weren’t sexy. They weren’t nice to look at. They weren’t something you’d see and think, “Ho’damn, that is hot.” These little things almost always made her want to cry out in frustration as she stared at herself in the mirror, staring at these faults that she wished so badly would have disappeared by the next time that she woke up. But, every time that she went to the bathroom to get dressed, there they were again.. staring back at her almost the exact same as they had been for the past three months.

There was a soft squeak as the tap finally came to a stop, her hand guiding the simple glass to her lips as she took a couple of sips from it, eyes closing themselves briefly. It was pretty early in the morning, though not early enough so that there was no possibility of someone wandering around the household. Taylor still lived with Luke and Felicity, though since the end of school and the birth of the twins, Thad had also joined them. It was only meant to be for a while whilst the pair got used to parenthood, and it was a comfy arrangement with two babysitters on standby if either of the teens needed to get away for a little while. Of course, this always brought up the possibility of one not being as alone as one thought.

Luke had been awake for the past half an hour as he had work pretty soon, his natural body clock, for once, allowing him to be awake at about the right time. Despite the television being on, the twenty-six year old heard the soft, gentle shuffling of slippers against the light wooden floor of the kitchen, his interest perking up as he contemplated just who this mystery person was that was lurking about downstairs when most of the household remained asleep. And that was when Taylor crossed his vision as the young male padded over towards the cooking area of the house, eyes wandering over the quite baggy blue pyjamas that the girl was wearing.

“What’re you still wearing your maternity PJs for?” It was a simple inquiry that the lad made, only to be followed by a quirky little jump from the girl in front of him, her back more-so in his vision than anything else. “I’d have thought you’d have gotten yourself into that fitted nightdress of your’s by now.” His smile was friendly, and as much as she wanted to return that curling of the lips, she felt almost as if she couldn’t, like it was nothing short of a lie.

“I guess..” For a moment or two, the girl faltered as she began to turn around to face him, wondering whether or not to continue her blatant lie of an excuse.. or tell the older male just why it was that she felt the need to hide her body underneath a large amount of material. “I guess I, um.. I just don’t.. I mean..” It was a strange thing to hear Taylor Harts uncertain of what she was saying. It was quite rare for her not to say what was on her mind, what was bothering her, what she felt needed to be said. But, over the period of months, these little insecurities had welled up inside her chest, hitting her now at a pace that she couldn’t quite retaliate to.

Her eyes closed shut once more as her hand held the glass of water close to her chest, the other arm folded across her torso as if holding something close to her heart. Which, in a way, she was. She didn’t want to tell Luke about how she didn’t feel that sexy any more, or how she felt bad about the fact that she’d suddenly run cold on the subject of sex. It wasn’t as if Thad had really brought it up, nor had he really tried to instigate much with her, which she had known would happen anyway. He cared about her, worried over her.. oh, and those adorable little faces that he’d make when he started panicking over the tiniest of things. There had been, really, only one instance where the elder teen had attempted to start things up again.. but he was left with a million and one excuses, and a girl who was just content laying curled up against him under the covers.

Luke’s head tilted a little to the side as he watched the eighteen-year-old stumble over her own words, an almost brotherly concern written across his features. He had a vague idea what was working over in her mind as he’d briefly spoken to Felicity about the things that’d happen after the pregnancy, outside of the more in-depth details that Luke wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know about. And he was beginning to understand why that more fragile form of Taylor was standing before him, fingers fiddling with the cotton of her pyjamas. After living with both Felicity and Frankie for a majority of his life, and then having Taylor move in a year ago, Luke knew certain signs for things, like when to back off or when to sit and talk. Fairly confident that he knew what was bothering her, he had a small idea of what to say. Taking a small step towards her, the male smiled.

“You know, a couple of years ago, I had this sort of thing with this guy. It was a bit of a surprise at first because it all happened so quickly and it was one of those things that you really don’t expect to happen, you know?” Luke paused briefly as the girl before him listened quite intently to his words, nodding softly in recognition to his question before he started to speak once more. “Over the time that we had this thing, I started to fall in love with him in a way that I really never had done before. He was.. just so perfect to me, and special. It became way more than I thought it would in my little world. I mean, we only had sex the one time before I had to leave, but there were so many things that pulled us together.”

The male knew where he was going with his story, his soft smile extending a little the more he thought of how well it fit into the situation, his body moving over towards a stool by the island countertop in the centre of the kitchen.
“There was one little problem though..” Taylor’s glass was placed down upon the counter as she herself sat down opposite her friend’s brother, eyes remaining entirely focused on his as she listened, not wanting to miss any of what it was that he was trying to tell her. “He couldn’t understand the fact that he was perfect to me.”

“He was always debating about whether or not what we were doing was right, he had his own insecurities within himself about so much of the stuff that we did and his own feelings towards himself. No matter what I said or did, they kept creeping back.”

“What happened?” the teen inquired, her voice quite soft as if she were a child trying to ask a question at the end of a book, an innocent taste to her words.

“There’s a lot to it, but.. after a while, those insecurities about who he was, how he was different to what he thought was normal, and everything.. he started to accept them. He accepted that he had a few different things about him, and that he wasn’t fitting into everyone’s specific model for a person. He started to open up and, after a while, started to understand that he was perfect to me in so many ways, despite these little flaws he felt he had.” Luke’s smile, once more, softened as Taylor was staring down now into her glass of water, her index finger running smoothly down the side before reaching the cool countertop beneath. Her mind whirred as she tried to take in the story that he’d just told her, a slight glisten attempting to cast over her eyes as her teeth softly bit into her lower lip.

“Tay, to Thad, you are.. perfect. He loves you and probably always will, despite the little flaws that you think you have. I mean, the guy near enough stalked you before you started dating. Something horrible to you can be something amazing to someone else. You shouldn’t close yourself up because you’re worried about how he’ll take the changes. Trust me. Accepting yourself as you are is so much better than trying to hide yourself away.” The smile that had remained upon Luke’s features as he spoke was still curled upon his lips whilst he looked over to the girl that had been drawn to look down at the counter in an attempt to hide the tears that were trying to force themselves down her cheeks, a deep mixture of happiness and sad raging around in her emotions.

She didn’t really know what she was feeling, but she felt an uplifting sensation in her chest as she thought about what the twenty-six year old was saying. It was true that everyone had their flaws, and that there were so many people out there that accepted them. He was right in saying that it was probably better for everyone to accept the way that they are instead of just dragging themselves down with it. And he was right that Thad loved her, which was true despite the amount of trouble she’d put him through since they’d first staRted dating very little over a year ago. He might have been a bit oblivious, at times, but.. she didn’t love anyone else more than she loved him and her two little boys. She might have changed a good deal now that she was a mother, but there were some things that she needed to get back and some things that she needed to accept, and some things that well and truly needed to get sorted out.

Her smile steadily extended to a grin as the young girl stood from her chair and walked around the counter, her arms wrapping around Luke’s neck in a thankful hug, her eyes squeezing shut briefly before she drew back from him. And then, she took off, her legs carrying her out of the kitchen and away from the male she’d just hugged, leaving him with his own little grin and an overwhelming temptation to speak out loud to the contents of the kitchen about how fucking amazing he was.

It took less than a minute for her to get upstairs, stepping on tip-toes in an attempt to not wake anyone else in the house up. She stepped even more carefully as she passed the room that the twins were now asleep in, and drew closer to her own room. Slowly, she began to open the door, cringing as the softest of squeaks sounded from the hinges, her eyes darting over to the young man asleep in her bed. Thad didn’t so much as stir, which Taylor couldn’t help but find rather adorable as she stared over at her boyfriend, seeing his body half stretched out over her side of the bed, quite a large majority of the duvet cover now lying across the floor. Smiling, she wandered over towards their bed, taking a hold of the duvet and pulling it up so that it was back over the sleeping male. It took her just a few moments before she crawled onto the bed beside him, slipping beneath the covers and resting quietly by his side.

The girl paused for a moment as her eyes glanced over the plain grey t-shirt Thad was wearing, flitting softly over his form as she softly bit into her lower lip, that smile of her’s extending once more before she turned a little more onto her side to press a gentle kiss against his shoulder. And then another.. and then another. Slowly, one of her legs slide over Thad’s torso, her kisses trailing from his shoulder and to his neck, then finally his lips as she now lay with legs either side of him, her front pressing softly to his, fingers gently toying with the collar of his shirt.

“Thad, sweetie.. it’s time to wake up.”

C-Box

This is here just for when the invisionfree boards aren't working so that we can still talk. -nods-

thenightgoesonasimfadingaway.

ooc; This is part of the story arc that Brett came up with for Frankie and Yates. Frankie belongs to Brett and Yates is my own character. This will be the third part of the arc. Hope you like it.

His fingers shook as they looped around the neck of the near-empty bottle, trembling violently so the flattening liquid inside sloshed against the green glass. His eyes were glazed as he simply stared at the carpet before him, arms pressed against his torso so that his hands hung down between his legs. The male's chest rose and fell at a steady pace, one that could claim to be a sign of relaxation, though other things signalled that he was far from relaxed. The air was thick with a blanket of smoke, a contaminated grey with mixtures of white that had been expelled past his lips since he had arrived back home with the kids after walking them from school. But, it hadn't really felt like home.. not for a long time, not without Frankie there. It just wasn't the same and it seemed like it never would be, not after the news that he had received that morning.

Letters were something that Yates had looked forward to when they had first got a house of their own. He'd enjoyed the simplicity of something being addressed solely to him, like he held some kind of importance, even if the letter was simply some kind of advertisement or a bill. Since Frankie had left to be in the National Guard, it had turned into something more like a dread. Each time he worried that there would be something about his wife contained in one of those envelopes, informing him of her death or her disappearance. He panicked each time he saw something that looked mildly official, simply staring at the lettering of their address until his curiosity over-powered that worry and dread. He couldn't count the number of times that he had breathed a sigh of relief as he found it to be some kind of bank statement, though the numbers were hardly something to relax about.

It had been rather early in the morning that he had noticed that man standing outside of his door, wearing a uniform that made Yates' blood run cold. He was walking back from dropping Luke off at school and Felicity at a day care so that he could go to work, his shoulders hunched and gaze downcast until he reached a couple of houses before his own. He'd just stood there, staring blankly at this man, feet rooted to the spot. There were so many reasons that he could have been there, but all of them just linked back to the most important woman in his life, the woman he just couldn't live his life without. His hands had shook in his pockets, clutching against the material as he tried to ready himself for whatever this man had to say, though he remained stuck to that same piece of concrete, terror screaming through his widened eyes. He couldn't handle this, no, he really couldn't. He'd been so worried, so paranoid about each letter and each knock on the door. What if this guy brought the news that could shatter his world into a million more pieces? It wasn't like Lucas to be so terrified of simply talking to someone, but you could hardly say that it was just any person.

The uniformed man turned away from the rather worn door as he made his way to leave, aiming to perhaps leave the letter in the letter box or perhaps a number to call so the news could be explained to him. However, it only took moments for his eyes to lock with Yates', the man's expression instantly changing to a solemn look. The news he brought was written in his eyes, explaining that he was not there to inform Yates of his wife's return home or that she was safe and sound. There was a silence that hung in the air between the two strangers, only disrupted by the sound of cars on the road and the chattering neighbours that Yates had never really taken the time to get to know.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but your wife has gone missing."

It was the strangest sensation to hear those words as they fell so seemingly easily from that man's lips, the rehearsed tone only making it sound even more like the younger male's frequent nightmares. Denial hit as strongly as the silence held between the pair after the news was declared - Yates didn't make a sound. He just continued to stare, in much the same horror as he had upon first seeing this man at his doorstep. He hadn't wanted to invite him in, nor act as if everything was okay until he knew what had happened to his Francesca, his other half. So, they just stood there outside, in the cold November air whilst the words screeched relentlessly at him, ignoring his thoughts of hope. 'No, she can't be missing.' 'This isn't really happening.' 'Frankie wouldn't go missing.. she promised that she'd come home.' But it was useless.

Yates hadn't cried. He hadn't poured out his soul, fallen to the ground and begged for his wife to be found. Not even after the other man had left. He hadn't called Jason and told him of what had happened. He didn't tell anybody, not at the time. It would be like confirming that she had gone, confirming that it was even more likely that he would never see her again, that he'd never hear her voice. He'd never be able to hold her close to him, watch her smile, or kiss her. They wouldn't be able to watch their kids grow up together, interrogate Luke about his first girlfriend or laugh when Felicity came out of her room after her first attempt at putting make-up on. Yates couldn't admit that to himself, yet. He refused to allow himself to believe that those chances had risen so much more, that Frankie could be dead out there and there was nothing that he could do about it. Nothing.

Those glazed eyes continued to stare down at the dusty carpet in front of him, a mixture of anger and sadness boiling within him. He shouldn't have let her go. He should have begged her to stay. He should have held her back, clung to her so tightly that she couldn't leave. He'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried. But it had all been thrown back in his face, every word that had passed his lips and pleaded for her to stay seemed to only drive her further away. He could remember those final words that they had exchanged and he cursed his very existence each time that he thought about what he had said. What they had both said. But nothing could take it back.

"Yates, I can't alright. So just drop it."
"I can't. I can't do this without you, Francesca."

The male abruptly stood up from where he was seated on the otherwise empty couch, settling his beer bottle down on the table beside him. The only thing that seemed to mildly settle him was watching his children sleep, their peaceful expressions the only thing that was able to make him smile. Slowly, he padded his way to their daughter's room, his hands pressing against the walls to guide him through the darkened house. Felicity's night light had been left on, enlightening her gorgeous little face as she lay asleep in her small bed. The moment that Yates laid eyes on her, the smallest of smiles twitched onto his lips, his legs carrying him over to her to tuck her in and to press a small kiss to her soft forehead. She reminded him so much of her mother that it was painful at times. The child's gentle breathing was soothing, in a way, a sound that he could listen to all day and it would just relax him. After kissing his daughter on the forehead one more time, Yates moved onto his son's room, to check that the boy was asleep rather than sitting up like a lot of nine year olds did, according to some of the other parents at the PTA, a group that he had found himself despising ever since he was forced to participate in Frankie's place.

Much like his sister, though, Luke was fast asleep, his limbs stretched out over his mattress whilst his head rested just below his pillow. Yates managed a small laugh as he attempted to straighten his son out of his, what looked like, very awkward position and pulled the duvet cover over him. He was glad that they had chosen to have Luke there, and he'd grown to love him like a proper father. The situation that he had been born into wasn't the best and Yates and Frankie had thought it best to part with him. But it had seemed like the best decision in the world when they got him back. Neither of them would ever have changed their decision, even though that was the reason that Frankie had joined the National Guard in the first place. 'To make ends meet.' It was what she'd had to do to keep them afloat. Yates stood there for several moments, just watching his son sleeping before lightly ruffling his hair, tucking the duvet around him a bit more and exiting the room.

"Don't you think that I miss all of you, and the life that we have? I do, but I have a higher calling right now-"
"Then you aren't the woman I thought you were."
"What?"
"The woman that I married thought that nothing was a higher calling than her family."

It was horrible to slip into the cold bed at night, but that day was probably even more difficult than it had ever been. He hated the fact that there was no one to reach out to in the night, that Francesca wasn't there to stay close to. The soft sheets beneath him were no comfort. They weren't as soft as her hair, or as warm. Yates frowned as he drew the cover up over his chest, the back of his head pressing into the lone pillow. He hated the fact that he'd started to think of everything like this, it made him seem simply pathetic in his eyes. He'd started to relate everything to her since she had gone. The smallest of things reminded him of her though he knew he was simply burying himself further under the stresses that his life had now thrown at him. Frankie had been there for him so much since they had first met, but now she wasn't there.. he just didn't know what to do.

"What are you doing, Francesca?!"
"Since I am not the woman you want me to be, I'm leaving. Oh, and while I'm gone, maybe you can find the one you lost!"

Though his eyes were tired, he couldn't get to sleep, not with so many words and thoughts buzzing about in his head. His mind was replaying so many scenarios, things that had led up to her joining the National Guard, times at their old school, problems they had gone through but dealt with and came out shining in the end. He missed those seemingly careless days when it was like they hadn't had a worry in the world but, in reality, everything was slowly creeping up on them like a dark cloud. His head tilted slightly to look at the contents of his bedside table, ignoring those thin, foil strips and instead watching the picture that had sat by his bed for months now. Frankie had always loved that picture, even though Yates was pulling one of the strangest faces he could think of at the time. She'd always said that it was an expression that summed him up perfectly, every time that they sat and looked at it together. She looked so beautiful in that picture, and happy. It was a wonder that she had chosen to share her life with him, in Yates' opinion, and he could never deny that he was thankful.

His fingers gingerly stroked down the side of the frame, his gaze focusing on its contents. He lightly bit his lip as he remembered those last words that they had shared, the words shouted between them that never should have been spoken. He shouldn't have said it and Yates knew that from the moment that he had blurted it out, the harshest words that he could think of at the time. They were lies, of course. It had been a sentence that had made him so angry at himself, made him develop a deeper kind of self-loathing that he never thought existed. Even as he thought about it, his fingers curled around the metal frame, skin pressing hard into the sharp pattern. Why had he said that to her? God, just what was his problem?

"Fine! It's not as though I loved you, or anything!"

He gripped that picture tighter against his palm as the words crossed his mind, pain mingled with anger just bellowing out in his head. The sound of shattering glass soon filtered through the room, a metal clatter as the frame hit the floor beside the wall at the opposite end of the room. A soft pant escaped past Yates' lips as he sat up in his bed, breathing heavily, the corners of his eyes dampened as he stared at where the picture had hit. Slowly, his eyelids closed over his irises, holding back those several thousand tears that just wanted to tumble down his cheeks. But he wasn't going to let them escape, he couldn't allow himself to show such a strong sign of weakness, not whilst he was the only one there for his kids. Luke and Felicity needed him more than anything, now, and he wasn't about to let anyone know just how much he was breaking up. How quickly he felt himself splitting at the seams. He'd been fixed so many times, but that one last tug could easily pull him to pieces.

whatiwantwillalwaysstaythesame.

ooc; This is MATURE. Do not read if you are squeamish [o_O] about sex scenes or if you have the attention span of a grape...It's a rather long drabble. Also realise that this is my first attempt at something like this, so I apologize if it's not accurate or it, well, sucks. ._. I have skipped a few parts out, mainly because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing them or because I just don't know how to write them without making it ruin that type of mood being set. o_OExcuse any soppiness. ¬_¬

There she was. Sitting alone in the dark, her skin illuminated by the moonlight brushing in through the window, a gentle breeze stroking against the glass that was the only thing that stood to protect her from the cold of Winter. Her eyes were set upon the closed door that stood mere feet away from her, watching and waiting as if it would miraculously come to life, the painted wood just suddenly moving from its hinges. But, no. She was waiting for someone to arrive from /behind/ that door, to greet her in the room that was not her own. The female may not have belonged in that dorm of Saint Delacroix, but she had frequented there, visiting, on occasions, a boy that had been the object of her affections for so many months now. Damien Alexander, the fifth year that had captured her heart almost from the moment that she met him.

That time felt so long ago, when they had stood in the kitchens, making those sweet little pancakes that was now one of her favourite memories. It had been that morning that she had first met him, that morning that she had first been allowed in, allowed to view the male in a light that most others hadn‘t been privileged to see. Since then, they had spent so much time together, their feelings deepening and growing as time grew on. They had endured sad times and enjoyed happy times, suffered tears and strain but fought through with a love that couldn’t so easily perish. The pair had been through a lot, and had made it past the days of hurt and were now able to just.. cherish their moments together.

As the girl sat upon Damien’s bed, her heart pounded furiously against her chest, panic and worry being an obvious emotion flitting about in her mind. What was she doing? What if it was a mistake? Oh god. Skye was rooted to the spot on that soft mattress of his, her fingertips clasping hold of the duvet beneath her. She really had no idea what had drawn her to do this, to actually be settled there, waiting for Damien to arrive which he shortly would. Oh, what if he didn’t want this yet?

What was really making her panic so? What was it that was causing her nerves to suddenly be so strong? It was the prospect of what could happen that evening.. or what couldn’t, more to the point. The girl’s gaze briefly flitted over to look outside at that moon that seemed to be hanging so low in the sky, the clouds closing in around the orb’s edges but unable to block out that small amount of light. The small amount of light that was stroking against her near-bare back, slightly shadowing the curves of her breasts that were only being held in a black-lace bra, one much like the one that she had worn that day so many weeks ago at the beginning of October. Over her long, slender legs, she wore thin, black stockings that ended with a lace finish about mid-way up her thigh. Just above her underwear, there rested a thick band of material that held against her hips, small attachments leading down to clip onto the rims of those thigh-length tights.

That was why she was nervous. That was why her heart was pounding so strongly in her chest. She was waiting for him.. and offering herself to him for the first time. Skye just didn’t know what to expect, whether he would accept the situation or choose to discard it. He could just walk away from her, thinking her stupid to even think such a thing was going to happen between them. Oh, so many outcomes were rushing through her mind, pumping worries and doubts continually through her bloodstream.

It hadn’t been too long ago that they had actually discussed the matter, spoken about whether they would be able to take their relationship to the next step as it were. Oh, that conversation had been priceless. So many nervous laughs and deep red blushes had been exchanged between the pair, it was almost like were a couple of eleven year olds that were just learning about the whole story of ‘where babies come from’. But, it had been that conversation that had led her to be where she was now. Resting upon his bed in, practically, the same outfit that had led their relationship to develop from friendship. But that conversation hadn’t been the most.. conclusive. It seemed that both had merely dropped hints about what they really wanted, and how much they wanted this to happen.

That was probably what was fuelling a lot more of Skye’s nerves about the evening, more so than the idea of, well, having sex. She didn’t entirely know what he wanted or whether he had meant that this is where he thought their relationship was leading in the near future. He could have meant something completely different and she was oblivious to the fact that he just didn’t want that from her.
Oh god, what was she going to do?

Before her mind could really develop any more on this question, her gaze was drawn back to the door as the handle started to rattle slightly, signalling that someone was trying to get into the dorm. And that someone was Damien. The male slowly entered the blackened room with his eyes downcast to the ground, his initial entrance not leading him to look around at the containments of those four walls. One hand was resting in the pocket of his black work slacks whilst the other remained resting upon the door handle as he slowly moved to close it.

But, before that soft click was heard, Damien’s gaze rose to rest upon the form of his girlfriend, basking in the moonlight as she sat upon the bed. /His/ bed. Her expression, as he could tell, was a nervous one as she slowly stood herself up, the fingers of her hands fiddling with each other in front of her torso. Butterflies were tossing and turning in her stomach, causing an almost sickly feeling to settle itself within her. How on earth was he going to react?

To be honest, Damien truly hadn’t expected to come back up to the school from a work shift to this. And he showed this as his eyes widened a fraction, those pale hues of his darkening slightly before they drifted over her form. His own heart had started pounding upon the sight, even though it had, once more, fallen into that light feeling that Skye’s presence gave him. There had only been one time before that he had seen her like this and that had been one of the most embarrassing but amazing days of his life, and seeing it twice made no difference to the impact that it made upon him.

Slowly, the male shut the door behind him and took a few steps over towards her, much as she did with him until they met in the middle of the room. Though there was barely enough light in the room to see, he was able to see that small fluster that was gracing her cheeks and was sure that his own cheeks were starting to redden, though that didn’t really matter now. There they were, together, standing mere inches away from one another with their eyes locked [though Damien’s couldn’t help but wander that little bit more].

“You look..” He paused for a moment, attempting to think of the perfect way to describe it, but his mind failed him. There was nothing that could explain how beautiful she was to him, not only in appearance but her personality, as well. Her whole self was just too incredible for words. “I can’t describe how amazing you look.” A lop-sided smile slowly formed upon his lips as Skye’s gaze fell to the ground, a gentle laugh escaping her lips whilst that compliment caused her blush to deepen a shade. Those vivid blue eyes soon drifted back up to the male’s, her hand also rising from her side to rest against his torso before fiddling with the tip of his work tie.
“And you’re not looking too bad yourself..” Her voice was gentle, that nervous ring barely present as her fingertips stroked over the silk material, glad to hear a small chuckle come from the fifth year.

Skye was certainly feeling more comfortable, even though it was still a rather daunting moment for both of them. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do anything with her if he still didn’t feel entirely certain about it, she’d understand. He had lived with the fear of contact with other people for so long and he was then, just suddenly, able to be with her in a way that he probably wouldn’t have really considered before. The girl didn’t want him to suddenly feel pressured into delivering something into their relationship just because they had been dating for a few months now. She didn’t have the right to just turn up on his door step and expect him to sleep with her. No, he shouldn’t feel pushed into doing something.

“Damien, I-” Her words were interrupted, though. Her thoughts were stopped, as well, as she felt the boy’s soft lips press to her own, his fingers lightly tracing over her cheek and then through her hair. The pair held that kiss for several moments, Skye’s hands slipping to rest upon his torso whilst his free hand trailed down to her hip. As their lips parted, their foreheads rested against each other, their eyes once more locked.
“I love you so much, Skye Sanders,” Damien whispered gently to her, so quietly that he was unsure if she could hear it over the pounding of his heart. It took mere seconds for the girl’s response to come, her smile-curved lips forming four simple words. “I love you, too.”

It took only brief moments for Skye’s lips to once more be pressed against Damien’s, their kiss a passionate one as the girl’s arms went to wrap around his neck, his own wrapping around her bare waist, holding her strongly against him. He could feel the material of her bra pressing through his thin shirt, feeling her pushing so comfortably against him as their kiss continued, their lips feverishly attacking the other’s. The nerves that they had previously felt seemed to have vanished, now replaced with an excitement for the situation and a deep desire that they both shared.

Slowly, the girl’s arms slid from around his neck, her fingers once more fiddling with that tie of his, loosening it further until she was able to slip it from beneath his collar, allowing it to simply fall to the floor beside them. His own hands continued to rest at her hips, holding her body close to his as their lips remained pressed lightly together, eyes closed. Damien’s tongue slowly slid over her lower lip before being allowed to enter her mouth, the pair’s muscles stroking against one another whilst Skye’s fingertips started to blindly undo the buttons of his shirt.

Neither really knew what to expect, though their nerves were now deeply buried somewhere beneath that burning desire they both held. It was the first time that either of them had done this and, really, they were just allowing whatever happened to, just, happen. They didn’t have any real experience to go by, no previous practices that could guide them. It was just them, on there own, allowing their instinct to lead them further in their actions.

As the white material of his shirt fell to the floor, their legs slowly carried them towards the bed. Skye’s fingers dug partially into the front of his trousers, her thumbs holding against the hem to draw his body closer to her own, already able to feel that slight arousal that the boy held. Damien’s own hands were stroking delicately over her back, brushing over her shoulder blades and beneath the material of her bra where the clasp held it in place. His breathing grew heavier whilst their kiss briefly parted, his lips trailing along her jaw line and down to her neck. Skye’s head tilted more to one side to expose more of her neck to him, able to feel that warm breath stroking over her skin.

A soft murmur past the girl's lips, a gentle whisper to his ear before the back of her leg touched against the mattress of his bed, their movement ceasing as Skye slowly fell back to sit on upon the duvet. Damien remained standing, his glazed eyes gazing down upon the girl before him, his chest rising and falling steadily with the excitement burning inside of him. She leant forwards slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lower torso as her fingers started to unbutton his trousers. Her motions were slow, her knuckles lightly pressing inwards before tugging down until the male was merely standing there in his boxers. It was then that he leant down, capturing her lips in his own, his body pressing her further down against the bed. Now both were lying down.

---

It was almost a surreal feeling as their bodies moved gradually together, Damien hovering just above Skye with his lips gently kissing over her neck and collarbone. Her fingers laced through his hair, able to feel the sweat that now covered both of them also residing amongst the strands. Their breathing was quick, almost in unison to the beat of their bodies' actions, with soft murmurs frequenting past their lips.

His kisses trailed back over her jawline until his gaze met hers, his crystal eyes noting that look of discomfort of her features though those vivid blue hues continued to look up at him lovingly.
"You okay?" His voice was more like a pant, his body not ceasing its desired movements as he spoke. The reply he got, at first, was a mere nod, her eyes closing as she intook a deep breath.
"I'm fine..." she breathed, her eyelids flickering back open before closing once more as Damien's lips locked with hers in one of their many passionate kisses.

Finally, their bodies slowly came to a stop, their breathing strong and quick. Skye's bare chest now pressed against Damien's after allowing himself to relax against her, his forearms supporting his weight above her. He lightly nuzzled the side of his nose against hers, a small smile spreading over his lips as one did hers. It was hard to believe what had just happened between them, their minds still not entirely registering their actions though their bodies had grown increasingly tired.

---

Skye lay snuggled up against Damien's side, her cheek resting to his chest with one of her legs intertwined with his. Over her upper-body, she had put on Damien's work shirt, the buttons, all but one, remained undone. Her breathing was now slow, calm once more as her eyes closed, dreams filtering through her slumbering form. Damien's eyes remained open, not yet captured by the realms of sleep as Skye had been. His mind was filled with emotions, most as a result of the girl lying beside him. He'd never loved anyone like this, not to such a strong degree. Really, he'd never experienced feeling like this, not until her.

With her, he was free from that inner influence, but it wasn't just that. She was so special to him for so many other reasons. There was just.. so much about her that he loved. Her kind nature and loving smiles, her unpredictability. Damien certainly hadn't been expecting what had happened that evening to happen. He hadn't even realised that she was going to be in his dorm that evening - just waiting in the moonlight. A smile tugged on the corner of his lips, a sort of lop-sided grin that usually graced his features when he was around her, as he thought of how amazing she had looking sitting there. The male sighed contently before lightly kissing the top of Skye's head, his fingertips lightly running through her hair and then down to her waist, drawing her closer to his side as he allowed his eyes to close, allowing sleep to slowly engulf him.

forever.

ooc; I may delete this or change this at some point. I also haven't proof read it, so it may be rather repeatative and, well, crap.

Many months had now passed, days passing as swiftly as the birds flying up in the bluest of skies. Jay lay back upon a large double bed, his back pressed against the headboard. His attire was far more formal than that which he usually graced others to view, though, by now, his shirt had lost its previous pristine condition, swamped with creases around the hems that had now been pulled out from his dress pants. Around his collar was a loosened old tie, one which had been worn by his father at his wedding to Johnny’s mother. Upon his feet, he wore a pair of shiny black shoes, the laces tightly done up in hope of keeping their owner from tripping over and nearly landing flat on his face [which had, sadly, occurred earlier on in the day, causing a rather deep blush to cross over Johnny’s cheeks].

Soft, brown eyes glanced down to the deep crimson cover of the book resting upon his lap, his fingers brushing against the leather material whilst his thumb acted as a bookmark to the current page of interest. The book was battered and worn, the pages wrinkled and creased, showing that it had been in the young male’s possession for at least a year or two previous [or that some kind of fluid had been spilt on it frequently, which had happened on one or two occasions]. No matter, the book was one that Johnny would never exchange for a newer one, nor would he throw it away. It was something that he kept close to his heart, something that gave so many memories, ones of recent hours and ones of many months before. It was Johnny’s journal of sorts, though it only focused upon one aspect of his life. One aspect that he had, in fact, forgotten little over a year and a half ago.

It hadn’t been through fault of his own, but it was something that Johnny had felt an extreme form of remorse about. Memory loss was something that he had never really thought about until it had chosen him to be the next victim, locking away parts of his mind that he wanted so badly to access - his first year of dating Martha Smith, and his proposal to her, the girl of his dreams. It had been like an entire year had been stolen away from him, though he was able to remember small portions as the months went by.

Slipping his thumb over the page that it held in the small book, the cover folded backwards, revealing the detailed contents inside. The words were written neatly across the faint lines that ran across the pages, Johnny’s fluent writing style inked strongly against the white background. On one corner of the page rested a golden wedding ring, sitting there for only a brief time as the male wrote words of the day down using an pen that he had found in the bedside table. It had been an odd weight upon his finger, though one that he had been happy to accept as part of him earlier that day. Yes, his wedding day. Well, their wedding day. Something that the two of them had shared and, now that it had been written down, one that neither of them would forget. It was something that Johnny would be able to reminisce about, seeing his own words rather than relying upon something as fragile as the human mind.

A faint smile couldn’t help but cross Johnny’s lips as his gaze fell upon the gold metal, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the cool material, fiddling now with the shiny band between his fingers. After several moments, the male slipped the ring back onto his wedding finger, admiring how something so simple could signify so much, a lot like the book that lay before him. A book that held so many memories and moments, something that Johnny had sworn to fill with moments that he had cherished ever since that moment that he had realised just how heartbroken Martha was on that day that she realised that he had forgotten about her. It had been that day that he, too, had felt the pain of a broken heart, though not from loss of love. It was more that it was something wrong with him that had caused those hot tears to pass over Martha’s cheeks, tears that should have never been shed.

Allowing a soft sigh to pass across his lips, Jay closed the book before him after finishing his latest passage, setting the pen back down upon the table beside him. Eyelids briefly closed before slowly flickering back open again, only for his gaze to fall upon a figure dressed in white at his door way. The male’s smile extended, his legs sliding from upon the bed and taking his small weight, carrying him across the room to the young woman. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Jay rested his forehead against hers, his left hand rising to lightly stroke over her pale cheek. The woman’s hand raised also, resting upon the back of his neck, fingers stroking over the Chinese symbols, that matched her own name, that had been imprinted there several months before.

“I never thought that I’d ever find myself getting married to someone as amazing as you.” His words were soft, almost to the point of a whisper, his fingers running through her golden locks. “I love you so much, Mrs. Martha Farber.”