garrettkelton:
Garrett sighed as he pulled his car up to curb, around the corner from his apartment building. It was dark out and the afternoon and evening had since come and gone since he had left earlier to deal with work. The meeting outside of Marcus’ old club had gone about as well as could’ve been expected, it was a marvel he didn’t get stuck in the web of yellow tape, the police had condemned the area since Marcus’ death. Being back there had brought back memories he hadn’t thought of in quite some time…memories of Marcus, other memories too.
15 years ago…
There was a hot shower of rain that stuck to his skin, the asphalt was slick beneath his feet as he followed after her. Her short dirty blonde hair was damp from summer rain, the dainty silver ring that clung to her bottom lip glinted enticingly with a bead of water. The material of her tank top was nearly sheer where she stood before him, the white fabric clinging to every hard line of her body.
“Come with me.” It was plea as it fell from her lips, there was terribly hopeful crease of her brows as she stared back at him - hope that he knew he could never be deserving of.
“I can’t…you know I can’t.” Garrett uttered demurely, almost hoping if he denied her quietly, she wouldn’t have to endure the pain of his rejection. Then came the icy scoff, the wounded sound dripping from her lips as she put distance between them, desperate to evade the source of her pain. He wouldn’t blame her; he couldn’t.
She smudged the heavy-handed eyeliner that circled her tired green eyes with a back of her hand, the weak sniffle the followed nearly broke his crumbling resolve. Her smile followed, bitter and despondent, disguising the wobble of her chin. He had always hated seeing her cry.
“I-” His voice failed him as it turned soft with emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge. They were two powered kids…in a world that hated people like them, it wouldn’t be long until they were either dead or behind bars. They didn’t get a happy ending. She should’ve known better.
“Have a good life, Garrett.” She said finally, the words that unforgivingly chipped away blood red chunks of his heart like a sculptor’s chisel.
Shaking his head in an attempt to banish the foul memory, Garrett swallowed thickly, grimacing at the uncomfortable lump in his throat. Being even outside the club poked at old wounds, some ancient and scarred over, others still fresh and weeping. Marcus had been an asshole, yet still a part of him mourned the loss of the closest thing to a constant in his life. Garrett owed a lot to Marcus. Regardless of his memories apparently eager to haunt him, the meeting went well enough, he was just glad to be home. Exiting his car, Garrett rounded the corner to the his apartment building.
He briefly thought back on his little alley cat likely awaiting him upstairs, her little stomach probably full to the point of aching. Peeking into the laundry room, Garrett was pleased to pull Amanda’s clothes, still warm from the drier, he had chucked them in before heading out earlier. The litany of stains discoloring the clothes told him they could probably use another cycle through the washing machine, but as things were, it was obvious their owner was just eager to have her clothes back. Tucking the bundle under his arm, Garrett made the short trip up the stairs to his apartment.
Jimmying the key in the lock, the telekinetic lazily pushed the door open with a inclination of his power. Stepping through the threshold, he eased the door shut behind him, turning the lock out of habit with his mind. The gentle chatter of some cartoon playing on the television caught his attention as he slunk over towards the couch, finding the young heater he had taken in curled into a ball on the cushions. It was clear she had fallen asleep, chuckling softly at her choice of program playing on the screen, Garrett figured he very well couldn’t keep her on the couch. Which meant there was only one other spot he could leave her…his bedroom. In any other circumstance, he figured it might have been suspicious, him carrying a girl to his bed, but in this case, he didn’t mean her any harm.
The telekinetic let out a sigh, quietly praying she wouldn’t freak out come morning. Bending over with a groan, he ignored the ache in his lower back as he swept the sleeping weight of the young woman into his arms. Carrying her the distance towards his bedroom, he was sure to keep his hand tucked beneath the back of her knees, despite the way his borrowed shirt rode up revealing more surprisingly soft skin than he was expecting. And damn it if it wasn’t distracting watching as his denim shirt inched up higher and higher to expose her pale legs. Shaking off the admittedly foul thought that floated through his mind, Garrett shimmied open his bedroom door. Tugging back the comforter and loose sheet covering his bed, he was quick to slip her diminutive frame beneath the blankets.
She looked quite small in his bed, he thought, pretty cute too. Abandoning her pile of clothes on the other side of the bed, he figured he had done as much as he could to make her comfortable for the night. Pausing in the doorway, it occurred to him how fucking creepy it was for him to be watching a barely legal girl sleeping in his bed, yet still he couldn’t quite help the sudden and unexplainable fondness he felt for her. Easing the door nearly closed, he figured the least he could do was give her some privacy.
Stalking off back into the living room, Garrett sank into the couch with a groan that belayed his age. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table despite the array of take out boxes that littered the surface. Plucking the television remote from between the crevice of two couch cushions, he figured it was late, he was tired, and he could use a little distraction.
Amanda undid the bottom few buttons on her borrowed garment, relaxing back into the couch cushions as she rubbed at her protruding food ‘baby.’ Ooh, she was so full. Amanda couldn’t remember a time she’d eaten so well; she’d continued eating long after the food had lost its warmth.
Looking around at the empty cartons that she’d finished off, she felt like an utter slob. The young woman was grateful that her unexplained savior had been called away. She didn’t want him to see her pigging out like that… but then, why did she care what he thought of her at all?
Whatever had inspired him to come swooping in, gallant knight style, would wear off soon enough. He’d be walking past her on the street again in no time (patting himself on the back about his ‘good deed,’ just like all those holiday yuppies that threw the homeless coins during the holidays) without a glance or word to her. So, why did she care whether he saw her stuffing her face like a pig? She shouldn’t.
After luxuriating in her mini food-coma for a few minutes, Amanda forced herself to stand up from the comfortable couch. She rearranged the cartons, putting the empty ones on the right half of table and closed up the ones that did still contain food & moving those to the left side, before realizing she didn’t know where he put his trash. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to explore the place, she set out to find his kitchen trash-bin. It didn’t take long, because the apartment wasn’t actually that big (though in Amanda’s eyes any residence was practically a palace,) she did open a door to what appeared to bedroom before finding the kitchen. Making a mental note to snoop later, she returned to main seating area to gather the cartons into her arms. She tossed the empty boxes in before making a pit stop by the kitchen’s sink to wash off any meal residue from her hands.
With that task done, Amanda was left with a couple choices. One, she could leave. Granted she’d have to locate her clothing somehow, despite having no clue where they were, but it was not an insurmountable issue. Two, she could watch TV as he had suggested. Or three, she could snoop around the apartment. Would it be rude to abuse the trust he placed in her (by leaving her alone in his apartment) and snoop? Probably. But he clearly wasn’t volunteering information about himself either. Besides, ‘snooping’ would even make the top ten of bad shit she’d done in her 18 years. She deserved to know at least something about the man who kept appearing in her life, didn’t she?
Unfortunately, her snooping didn’t turn much of anything. It was almost as though he was a secret, even to himself. Disappointed as she was, Amanda was glad she’d tried; she would have regretted it if she hadn’t made use of the opportunity. It also left with only two options: stay or go. She’d be an absolute fool to leave a warm, dry apartment.
Flopping back down upon the sofa, Amanda decided to all do what she assumed all teenagers would do when they had the time to relax in front of the television. She laid out on her side, remote in hand, and channel-surfed. Most of the content was either too depressing (aka the news,) too confusing (aka the shows with continuing storylines,) or just beyond her (aka the programs that used big words that she had no chance of understand.) Then she’d stumbled upon a run of the old-time-y cartoons. These were the cartoons from the 70s and 80s, occasionally awkward moments breaking the current standards of political correctness aside, Amanda couldn’t resist smiling at the simplicity. Ah, cartoons…
The next thing Amanda knew she was blinking sleep from her eyes and pushing herself up into a seated position. What the-?
Last thing she could remember Elmer Fudd was being sabotaged by Bugs Bunny, and now? Amanda was sitting in a bed, (A BED!) tucked in and everything! Throwing off the blankets with a swish, the young heater was relieved to find that she was still wearing the shirt she’d borrowed from Garrett.
Garrett.
Right. She’d been on his couch, watching his TV, when she fell asleep. Maybe he’d moved her when he got home? But, if that was so, then his bed. Why would he put her in his bed? All that would have gotten him was her taking up his bed. Where had he slept?
Heading out on bare feet, she wandered into the main living space, cautiously, “Uh, Garrett?”