Sweet Summer Child.

The men in the room suddenly realized that they didn’t want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.

[redzuigiberx]

Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

[allthis-andheaven-too]

The woman was relentless in her teasing and flirting. And he wasn’t sure if it was more of one than the other. Shaking his head a bit as he tapped on his knee again, Dr. Joseph had to chuckle a bit to dispel the awkwardness that hung between them, but it was more on his end than hers. She was very good at this, clearly it was a skill. Spinning around one last time, he hoped, for his sake at least, the doctor tried to give her a calm, soft, smile. “Well, I would like that. It’s always nice to keep in touch with patients after the fact. See how they are, but again, that is your choice,” he knew he sounded awkward, he was trying desperately not to, but it happened he was sure. “But I will take you up on that haircut of course, my hair is a bit odd at the best of times,” he laughed, running his hand through his hair, well, attempting to at least. He knew it, he just kept avoiding the barbershops, and salons. 

As for visits, that did make it interesting to say the least. It wasn’t that he didn’t get along with his co-workers, but they all didn’t get him and the conversation was always so work related, and stuck in the bubble which they inhabited. It would‘ve been nice to speak to someone new, or speak about something new. Maybe Miss Evans could provide that for a small time being while she was here recovering. “And I will come visit of course, you are my patient and I want to make sure you are good to go home,” Dr. Joseph smiled, his voice warm and professional. He couldn’t click off just yet, it was just how he was when he worked. Always polite, always kind, and always respectful. “Of course, I won’t just barge in, and I will not keep you up at night, you need your rest after your body has suffered a trauma like this, so that’s the best medicine I can offer to you, besides the mild cocktail they feed you for the pain,” he chuckled, pointing to the I.V. and the small amount of tubing that was still attached to her. 

[redzuigiberx]

Nodding along with the words that the doctor spoke, she couldn't help the gentle smirk that had crossed her lips. She had refused the automatic drip IV opting for one with a button that she had yet to press. Evan did not care for medicating her pain. Maybe because she felt that she deserved every single ache in her bones. Or maybe because she had always been this way, a little girl who scraped her knee and got back up without a second thought. It was easier to heal on her own she thought. Evan felt that way about most things, even when her parents had passed. She had held Drystan through the long nights, but she had never allowed herself to shed a single tear in front of the boy. Stitching her wounds up was a personal battle and she had never been interested in involving others. It was cleaner and easier on her own she felt. Evan did not need another human, and she did not need an IV either. At least that was what she believed to be true. Her family might disagree. "No such animal doc, I'm what you'd call an insomniac. I don't do sleep," That much was true about her, although whether it was a learned habit or a true medical issue was up for debate. "But I promise, I won't go doing any back handsprings down the hall, I'll stay in bed and rest. Scouts honor," The blonde promised with a wicked sort of smile, one that could assure someone that she very well might try and do a backflip just because that hadn't been the specific move she'd promised not to do.

Rest, she hated rested. Not only was it boring, but it left her alone in her head. Left her with the face of that woman glaring back at her. She recalled when Drystan had been born. She was young, but she had seen Marie's face. Marie had wept as she held her newborn baby, tears of love she promised the worried girl. That was a mother, Evan wasn't sure what the other woman could be classified as. A monster, perhaps. Even now she was falling into her thoughts too easily, into memories she'd rather shake. Maybe that really was her body demanding rest, demanding she close her eyes and drift off into the nightmarish world of her dreams for now. She was sure for the first time her eyes actually looked weary, her face showing her true intentions for a split second. "With your care I'm sure I'll be healthy in no time," She forced the words out, forced the coquettish smile back into those words and onto her face. She would not crack, Evan would not allow it.

[redzuigiberx]

Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

[allthis-andheaven-too]

His comment made her chuckle. No matter what she looked like, or how small she was, she was scrappy and could get one good hit in before even his lawyer had time to process anything. It would be a small price to pay to make sure her friend, her love, was taken care of in their unspoken ways. Like a weird street code, something between them. So it mattered to her to protect Ev, even if Ev didn’t need or want protecting. Shuffling on the floor a bit, stretching her thigh a bit as she wiggled on the floor, her eyes were glued on the hospital bed before her. It killed her being on the floor, and she was about to stand herself up, but when the man stood and offered his chair, coldly, the defiant part of Alaizabel, which honestly was just Alaizabel herself, remained seated. Ignoring his cold cut words, it made her feel a little more in control of herself, made her point to him known. She didn’t associate with him unless she was going to be told by Evan that he could be associated with. He was not her friend, he was not anything to her other than the unfortunate ass to have the balls to stick around as if he were wanted. 

But all her thoughts melted away when she heard the rough, croaking voice. It softened her eyes and made her jump up in one swift, cat-like motion. When she wasn’t focused on her own body, it was like Alaizabel had the grace of a tiny dancer. “Evan,” she whispered as she stepped closer, but not close enough, she knew she couldn’t overwhelm her friend, and she wouldn’t allow herself either. After everything she was being cold, odd, and Evan reprimanded her for it, telling her they were adults and that Alaizabel shouldn’t be punishing herself. But right now it wasn’t about Alaizabel and her brattiness, or her stubbornness, it was about Evan. Tears welled in her icy eyes as she covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a noise, a weak little noise. “You shouldn’t be standing up, you know that, please just lay back down, you can talk to us and tell us we’re stupid while you lay down,” the words were garbled and fast, spilling from the spaces between her fingers as she curled into herself like a sad puppy. Alaizabel forgot about the man, she wasn’t even registering him anymore. All her focus was on Evan.

[redzuigiberx]

The little woman was defiant and it annoyed him, made his hands tremble a little. That wasn't her fault however, she had no reason to respect him and he knew that. Lyle abhorred defiance as a personality trait however, not because he did not see the purpose for it. But because he had longed for it his entire life and had never had the freedom to experience it truly. The people who had that luxury often didn't recognize just what kind of luxury it was he felt. But all at once the woman melted into a girl, blubbering at the side of his now awake sister. It felt strange to even think the word sister, because it wasn't accurate in the familial sense. But he would contemplate that more later, speaking of he'd have to find a hotel. If this town even had those in supply, it was probably nothing but motels full of roaches and in need of a black light. The thought made him shudder. As the blonde settled into a seated position Lyle got a look at her face, slightly swollen and cut up but she was a DiSanno woman. Strong jawline and fierce blue eyes, a blonde picture of his grandmother, with the obvious willpower of his grandfather. She had never even met any of them but she was so much a part of the family, it made his lungs ache. "Car crashes happen all the time, I'm gonna be fine," She promised, eyes kind. Part of him broke as he saw the faces of the two coldest women he'd ever met smile so sweetly. It took little to no time for those eye to settle on him, he was after all the only stranger to her in the room. A stranger who had come from the same womb. "You...you were at the crash. You offered blood, kept saying you would be a match. Who are you?" The words were demanding and took him aback. She had been more aware then he could imagine for the pain, however shock was possible. It was likely she had felt nothing at the moment, watching the world from a dream.

But this was his moment, the big moment he'd been imagining since he was a little boy. He had always wondered what his big sister would be like, a lonely little boy staring coldly at the world around him. "I-I" The words didn't want to come out, he was a fucking writer and he couldn't think of the words. Austin would get a kick out of this, clearing his throat sharply Lyle forced himself to continue "My name is Lyle DeLuca, I'm your half brother. I-I was in the house when you arrived, and I followed after you...I saw, I wanted to help," He was struggling, this wasn't what he was good at. He wasn't good at offering help, he wasn't good at being kind. Lyle only knew how to hurt others so that he could breathe once more. "DeLuca," She spoke trying out the name, she had to know it if she had come to their home. "Yeah, you do look like a less hot version of me," She commented and all at once a pressure that he hadn't been aware of fell from his shoulders, he almost wanted to smile.

[redzuigiberx]

Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

[redzuigiberx]

allthis-andheaven-too:

Hearing her words brought a paint to his chest that made it tighten and clench up. It must’ve been hard for her, so very hard, to have survived this knowing that in something so similar to this, they didn’t survive. He suddenly worried about survivor’s guilt with Miss Evans, and that was a legitimate concern. He’d make a note later for someone to consult a therapist to her, if she would have one. Dr. Joseph knew of people too stubborn to take help, and he knew of people who would deny that they needed it. And she looked the type of person who would deny it, that she was fine and okay, but that was a mask she seemed to wear well. Watching her as she spoke, Dr. Joseph nodded as she mentioned how he needn’t be so formal with her. But it not only was a trick of the trade, but also his upbringing. His mother, his lovely mother, taught him to always be polite, to always be formal. It made it easier, because it never offended anyone. But if she wanted him to be a little less formal, than he can do that for her.

But then she had continued, and Dr. Joseph tried with everything he had to keep it down, but he could feel the blush creep onto his cheeks, his face growing hot. He tried to dry cough, do anything he could to keep him composure. But the awkward laughter came bubbling up his throat. It took his be surprise, like she pulled the rug from under his feet, but with a quick shake of his head, and a push to his glasses, Dr. Joseph found his tongue. “Well, Evan, I would suggest not slitting your hand open in the future, but I’ll come by to see you before you are discharged.” He wondered if that seemed to formal, and the worry caused his cheeks to flush once more. The last thing he needed was for her to assume he was being unprofessional, or much too forward to her…”That is, so we can make sure, and I can make sure, you are in full or close to full health to make it home,” Dr. Joseph added, hopefully making it seem like it was solely professional his need to see her. Giving another awkward cough, the doctor turned his back and wheeled over to the computer once more to type a few more notes. “Uh, anything else you want to disclose? Or any questions at all for me, Evan?” he said, with a slight nervous waiver in his voice. The longer he stared at the screen the better he felt about it all, and the faster he could collect his composure. 

It certainly wasn't her favorite hobby, to be analyzed the way that this man was surely taking her apart in his mind. Figuring different ways to help her, trying to see under all the layers that she had so carefully collected and placed. Maybe that blonde idiot should have left her on the side of the road to rot. That was cruel, the boy was nice, a sad little rich boy. With the face of the woman who had caused all of this. But she couldn't blame him for that, and maybe that was why she had told him he could crash in her apartment. How everyone was going to fit? She was in the hospital broken, that wasn't her issue. It was a fun excuse that Evan fully planned on taking advantage of for as long as she could. "I look forward to it, doc," The blonde spoke easily, eyes following up and down the man, tracing invisible lines across his body with her gaze alone. "Maybe you can even stop by the salon once I can do my job again and I'll give you a trim," She teased softly, his hair was wild despite the work setting, it looked good on him, however it also looked like it could eat a comb. "Not that unruly doesn't look good on you, I have a hard time believing that anything doesn't look good on you, doc" That teasing tone still lived in her voice however Evan meant the words that she spoke, she could imagine a sleek cut on him, but this almost sex hair look worked. "You can just admit it though, you'll want to visit me because I'm incredibly charming and the night shift gets lonely," This bravado, it felt like home. It was so easy to be this quick witted and almost brash woman with the way that she joked and flirted with anything that moved. It was easier now that Drystan was older, now that he knew every smile and batted eyelash at a man didn't mean that he was going to get a new father figure. That had been a stressful time period, trying to hide all of her boyfriends from those knowing blue eyes.

"I'd offer to disclose my number but maybe I'll leave that for my next visit. Keep the mystery alive y'know?" with every word she spoke laughter chased her syllables. It was difficult to tell whether she was being serious or not, even Evan couldn't tell from time to time if she actually meant the words that she said. But she often didn't waste the time to stop and think, life was too short for that. It was more fun to use big and enchanting words and just see where that took her. And if that did lead to her giving her number to the handsome, foreign doctor, she wouldn't mind that. "Besides, I'm pretty easy for you to find for the time being, no cell phone required," The blonde surmised. She had been asking a couple of the nurses that she hated a little bit less just how much longer she would be trapped here and none of them had been able to give her a solid answer. But if this treat were around more often it wouldn't be as borig at least.

[redzuigiberx]

Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

[allthis-andheaven-too]

She watched with tired eyes as the man who called himself Evan’s brother took a seat. It was then that she realized how exhausted she was, the adrenaline finally leaving her system, the worry uncoiling itself from her bones. It was like she was suffering from a tough withdrawl, and she knew what that felt like. Not wanting to look weak walking, Aliazabel sat on the floor, crossing her legs and placing her elbow on her knees. She was spent, shaking a bit, and all she wanted was Evan to wake up fully, to make herself seem better enough so everyone, even this idiotic looking stranger, could relax. She could only imagine how Drystan was feeling. He had lost his parents in a crash, and never saw them mumbling for him…At least this was a small blessing in disguise that he could be here with his sister and watch her come to. It was rough, but it was the best thing for him. She was digesting everything finally. The fact she had no makeup on, the fact her hair was a mess, the fact the cut wasn’t fully healed, the fact her legs were shaking, and the fact her breath was rattling in her lungs. She knew it was a stupid thought, but she couldn’t have Evan leave her. She couldn’t. Drystan would fall into the system, Alaizabel couldn’t adopt him, hell, she couldn’t adopt herself with the state of her life. 

“You can meet her, but let’s see if she wants to meet you. She’s going to want him, not you, and maybe not even me…” It hurt her to say that, but she knew it to be true. Evan would want to know her little brother was okay, that he wasn’t allowed to worry over her. She would wake up, and try to hit him for worrying, but Drystan would catch her hand and silently take care of her. It was a love she knew once, an unconditional, sweet, encompassing love. And she missed it…But Edgar was long gone, and bitterly she couldn’t blame him…Snapping back to reality, Alaizabel looked at the blonde with sharp, icy eyes. “If you even upset her, even a bit, I will knock you out in anyway I can…” she muttered, her hair falling over her eyes as she shuffled a bit, the hard linoleum floor becoming uncomfortable for her small ass. 

[redzuigiberx]

Who was this little gutter rat telling him what he could and couldn't do? She looked like with a bath and a hair brush she'd be gorgeous, he wasn't sure if it was the colorblindness confusing him or if her eyes were really just that blue. But that curiosity was held back by her threats, his lip curled and his brow furrowed. His grandfather used to tell him that he looked like Billy Idol when he sneered, but rock had never been his taste so Lyle had never seen it. "You're the size of a seven year old and my lawyer would have you in court before you even found a stepping stool to reach my face," The blonde growled, although it didn't come out as threatening, he was too tired to really square his shoulders and get aggressive and that showed in his tone. Tired or not however, Lyle DeLuca was no push over. There was a reason he had shoved his way into a publishers office with a fake name in a city where no one knew who he was. It would have been so easy to get it done in Atlanta where people knew his family name. But that hadn't been what he wanted, he couldn't stand the thought of owing anything to his family. "Let's leave her choices up to her," he wanted to snap, but that weariness still hung in his voice. What else was supposed to be there after helping haul the body of a woman who had come from the same cold hell that he had? Asking the EMT's frantically if there was anything he could do, if the woman needed any blood, any organs. They were siblings after all. That had been a first for him, Lyle didn't do frantic and he didn't do charity. The closest he came to charity was Roy stealing from his plate when the three friends went out for meals.

With a sigh however the blonde stood, tucking his phone in his pocket. The girl was too thin for the floor to be comfortable and he was well aware of that.  He didn’t do charity, but he was raised with all the manners of a southern gentleman. Wandering over to the window the man casually leaned against the sill, glass cool through his shirt. "Sit," It was the only word he cared to offer as he turned his gaze out to the parking lot below, wondering dimly if he would be able to find his car in the lot from above. "Ev," the boy was speaking again and that caught Lyle's attention. Turning to look at the siblings, at his sibling, at whatever she was. "Hey," came a croaked response, he didn't imagine her voice to sound like that, he couldn't have begun to imagine her at all in all honesty. But her eyes were open and it softened his heart in an odd way to see that despite looking so much like their mother, she did not have the same blue eyes. "No fighting children, Drys help me up," So she was the type to push herself, he could tell that much as she grunted, hanging onto the brunet's arm trying to hoist herself up.

[redzuigiberx]

Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

[allthis-andheaven-too]

Dr. Joseph watched her gingerly as she wiggled her fingers. At least the tendons weren’t damaged in the impact. Making a quick swivel towards the computer, he typed out another couple notes, swiveling back with a smile. She was a car girl it seemed, and the only crack in her happy demeanor was when she mentioned the unfortunate state of her car after the crash. He could understand that, he loved his prized Aston Martin, and for more of a nerdy reason than anything, but he still loved it. Shaking his head, chuckling at her comments, the doctor tapped his fingers against his knee, a tick he had since a child. He was always jittery, but he learned to focus all that anxious energy into tapping and rapping his foot, and his fingers. “Well, I’m no car doctor, but I am sure if there is a will, there is a way,” he chuckled. If he knew a mechanic he would suggest one after the consultation, but he couldn’t wrack his brain enough to remember a shop or a name. Rolling closer to her, snagging the flashlight on the wall on his was, Dr. Joseph pumped the leaver on the chair to get him a little higher towards Miss Evans. 

Clicking it quickly, Dr. Joseph smiled, placing a hand on her chin, “May I?” he asked politely before tilting her face towards him slowly. He hated being so close, and she was quite lovely despite the scratches, cuts, and swelling…And that thought was reassured when he could see the color of her eyes. “Follow the light, Miss Evans, let’s see how scrambled that brain of yours really is…” he said softly. He did his routine up, down, left, right, then focused on each eye. “Well, professionally, I can say that you are only mildly scrambled, not enough to make a nice fluffy breakfast, but just enough that you need to rest while you’re here, and when you’re finally released.” Dr. Joseph laughed, releasing her chin quickly and kicking himself back to the computer to make a note and bring up her CAT scans and MRI. “And from here, I can see that you are in fact correct insofar that your organs seemed to survive your accident,” he said, scooting over and tapping on the screen to show her. Looking at her with soft eyes, the flush gone from his cheeks, Dr. Joseph laughed again, “Let me reiterate, that you are quite the lucky woman to have only been carried away with a minor concussion, a broken wrist, and broken and bruised ribs. You could have punctured a lung, ruptured an organ, or suffered from eternal bleeding,” his tone becoming more serious as he listed the possible outcomes of her injuries. He sometimes felt that people could be so blind to the frailty of human life…Just how fleeting health could be…

[redzuigiberx]

Evan wasn't interested in being scolded, she wasn't interested in being told how dangerous the accident had been. She had never been very good at taking criticism, constructive or not. It was tedious, she could recognize her own mistakes. She spent enough time berating herself for them she knew all the details of her fuck ups. And if deep in her heart she wished that she had not been so lucky, that would stay between her and those lonesome moments on the beach. But her vague irritation subsided as she forced it back down her throat, she didn’t want to play that sort of game at the moment."You can call me Evan doc, no use for formalities," the blonde surmised as she observed his every twitchy move. The man had not stopped thrumming with some kind of energy, always flicking at his pen or tapping his foot. Something Marie would have tugged at her blonde locks for as a small child. She was no psychologist, as much as she may joke that a hair dresser might as well be one, but she could spot a tick a mile away. She had enough of them after all, what with her disturbingly clean home, hands raw from the chemicals from time to time. But there was nothing that could clear her mind better than a clear home at the end of the day. "My parents died in a car accident doc, I get it," The words didn't carry a cruel tone, but she did want to leave the warnings behind her. They made it difficult to play her little games. Maybe dying in a car accident would have been cruel to Drystan however, another mother gone twisted in a heap of metal. She didn't want to say that she was happy to be alive, because she wasn't. However she was content in the most secret and selfish of ways that she could remain at her little brother's side. Allowing her eyes to drift down to the house keys he had left on her bedside table, an accident that didn't matter as he was always right behind Lai to visit. The little Imperial Army key chain that she had bought him once they'd gotten the keys to their apartment catching the sunlight. She would have haunted the boy to keep him safe if it had come to that.

"I promise from now on, I'll drive with both hands on the wheel," the blonde teased, eyes flickering back up to the man, still wondering distantly how hard it would be to mold him like pliable clay through her experienced hands, to deconstruct that professional mask. "The only time you'll get to see my charming face once I'm discharged is if I slice my hand open at work. Which is a pity, because I'm not clumsy and my face is just too charming to miss out on," It was so easy to turn the charm on, to shed that pained skin like a snake for the time being. Evan could not recall when she learned this talent, to trade between differing masks depending on the situation. Maybe she got it from that woman, with her ice blonde hair and eyes so cold they were almost silver. To her she was a monster, but maybe she'd had other children to whom this woman wore the mask of a loving mother. She wasn't jealous, however the curiosity weighed heavily on her heart in a way that made guilt seep into her heart.

[redzuigiberx]

Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

[redzuigiberx]

allthis-andheaven-too:

Alaizabel was stuck watching Evan on that hospital bed, her vision blurring with the tears welling in her eyes. She could faintly sense Drys float past her to Evan immediately, Alaizabel grounded in her spot with shock, and worry, her muscles clenching up again. Her body vibrated, Alaizabel trying to understand the emotion that clung to her tendons and bones. She could faintly hear Drys speaking to someone, and reality swooped in like a rush of air to her lungs, making her dizzy and angry. Her head whipped about, icy eyes glaring at the man as he spoke. Alaizabel couldn’t deny it as he explained who he was, the familial ties were evident in their faces, the strong jaws, and the eyes. His were more like the sky, cloudy and greyed, while her friend’s were more like the ocean, vibrant and striking. But now, they were closed, and she was looking at the face of a man who mirrored the battered face of her friend. She could feel her brows knit together, her face screwed up with anger and fear. Where did this man get off on saying he was following her, where did this concern even come from when this man was never apart of her life to begin with until tonight. He had gall, he had nerve. And as Drys clung to Evan, Alaizabel stepped closer to the man who stood in his clearly expensive clothes, and his hurt stormy eyes. 

“I don’t think you qualify as her brother if all you did or do is share a fucking mother,” she hissed, the words coming like venom off her tongue. It was harsh, but the truth was blatant in her attempt, “But thank you, for riding here with her…” she corrected, shifting her shoulders back from an attack position. She wanted to lay into this man, but now was not the time and place for it. Alaizabel needed to keep her cool as she took one deep breathe in, and one breathe out, placing her hand on her face, only to realize there was still blood on her palm. A little streak was left behind, but that was no matter to her at the moment. She needed to remind herself that now, more than ever, she needed to keep it together. Drys was her brother, Alaizabel was just the misfit best friend who hurt Evan immensely at one point in their lives. She had no more sway than the man near her in this room, that all lay on Drys as she watched him glare and the blonde man. It was icy, it was cold, it matched her own stare on most days…and that terrified her. “And, no, she didn’t tell us…She tends to think leaving things out is the best way to protect us…” Alaizabels voice was quiet as she gnawed on her lip, the ring tapping against her teeth as she fiddled with her hair, chipping black nails fading into her dyed black hair.

It was immediate, the clench of his jaw, the clicking of bones that had been broken in the brawls of a bored young man in prep school. This little woman was challenging him and it took every inch of will power within Lyle’s body not to raise his jaw and look down his nose at her. He was still holding back in this camped hospital room, although nothing could stop the blonde from narrowing his eyes for just a moment. The weight of those eyes on him still lingered, how could a kid that quiet have such a presence he wondered. She was right however, that was her brother. But Lyle was her blood brother, he had that on his side, although he wasn’t sure as to why he was tallying points. But he didn’t know her favorite color, or her allergies, or what made her laugh. That kid probably did, he even knew what to do in this situation, taking the in and out woman’s hand as she mumbled his name. She wasn’t calling for Lyle, but she didn’t know that Lyle even existed. And he had to respect that. He probably could have done something to find her. But would it really have been different if he had? Would they have become tight knit siblings, attached at the hip? Would he have been on her other side? Would he have been able to convince her that Maris wasn’t worth her time? “I’m her brother, I didn’t say I was family. There is a difference that I recognize. Our mo-her birth mother…I know what she’s like. Especially to someone who isn’t used to her..someone who was,” He let the words fall away as the teenager finally broke his gaze, pulling a chair over to sit at his sister’s side. He was her family. It looked nice and that irritated him, jaw still tight Lyle shoved his hands in his pockets. Doing everything within his power to not seem petulant or childish as he watched a child with jealousy in his heart. What little family he had…Nicoletta, he could only imagine if something happened to the bubbly girl. He would be beside himself. 

Mimicking the boy, Lyle took his seat in the far corner of the room. Making sure to keep his distance, but taking up space nonetheless. Was it a challenge to him, refusing to back down? Wanting to demand that he mattered to? Was he just a spoiled little rich boy grasping at straws, at the closest to a family that he would ever get. A face that looked like his that wasn’t soaked in cruelty. “I’ll stay out of your way, but I’m staying until she’s awake. I want to…meet her,” he was careful to avert his eyes as he admitted that, feeling the momentary glare from the boy. Did the boy think that Lyle was here to steal the woman away? Could he? Would he? He wanted to tell them that she had lucked out, that she never should have bothered with the mother that was calling him, phone on silent but the screen lit up on the table beside him ‘Mother’ was her title. She was likely furious that Lyle had left, enraged that he no longer lived under her thumb. He had an inheritance of his own, he had a career of his own. He was no longer her little slave. And this was truly his first act of rebellion.

[redzuigiberx]

Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

[redzuigiberx]

allthis-andheaven-too:

Dr. Joseph blinked, his smile never wavering, but his cheeks flushing a bit at her comment. He never quite understood what a ‘snack’ meant whilst referring to people, but with the way this woman said it, it did send a shiver down his spine. She would be quite the handful, he felt, as he closed the door behind him and wheeled an office chair behind him. Situating himself behind the computer in the room, Dr. Joseph typed quickly and logged himself in, pulling up his file ready to make comments and adjustments. A quiet but embarrassed chuckle left his scruffy lips, his beard a little haphazardly groomed for the day. “I do not think anyone is speaking ill about you Miss Evans, but I have to say I’m doing quite well this morning, but clearly not as chipper as yourself,” he said, tilting his head up to see through the glasses and onto the screen, typing quickly that she seemed unusually aware for a post trauma accident patient. Whipping around, and looking over his glasses, the English doctor smiled once more, legs crossing and one hand placed neatly on his knee, khaki pants pressed and cleaned. “Tell me, Miss Evans, any pain in chest past the broken and bruised ribs? Any difficulty moving your fingers on the effected wrist?” He asked, his turquoise eyes bright and weary. 

He needed his tea, and that was the only thing he wanted to think about. But the woman in front of him, with her pained yet sweet smile distracted him a bit. She was pretty, blonde, and seemingly full of pep. He could only imagine her fully healthy. Probably a right stunner and a man-eater. He watched her carefully, examining the cuts on her face that were beginning to heal, the bruising and swelling that discolored her healthy complexion. She looked sunkissed, and freckled, but he wasn’t all too sure with the state of her poor face. “You, my dear, are quite lucky to be alive, a wreck like that could’ve cut your life short,” he said frankly, knowing she must have heard it at least a couple times from the people who must be visiting her. The smell of roses lingered in the air, mingling with the sterility of the hospital room she was in. Light came in ribbons through the window, speckled with dust in the air. Dr. Joseph felt terrible for her, but he was a doctor after all, and most, if not all of them always felt for their patients. It was a blessing and curse to be compassionate, but for him it was a burden. He’d be thinking of poor Maris Eloa Evans all afternoon while he mulled over her file later in the privacy of his office, with that poor mug of tea that was getting painfully cold…

Oh? This was new, she was used to men crumbling into little lion cubs before her and her flirting. The acted all macho and tough, trying to seem like the manly man of her dreams. But she knew that they were preening for her attention, for her to bat her eyelashes at them a couple times. For her to lose a couple layers. They were just little kittens. And that was easy, it was just so easy when people gave in and just played into Evan's games. But he wasn't falling into place so easily. Granted, she wasn't that full of herself. She knew that no man would swoon for all of her bruises and she could clearly see that he was on the clock. One of the few doctors who seemed to care more about the patient than his script pad. She knew that she was lucky to have a doctor like that. But Evan was not in the mood or mindset to pay attention to the things that made her lucky in that moment. She wanted to play, she wanted to kick aside the storm in her mind. Lightning licking at the edges of her skin. That hurt far worse than any car accident ever could. Wiggling her fingers as a show, certain nails cracked. She would need to fix this manicure, as if that were a truly important factor in her life at this moment. "All my fingers are still in working order, and I'm sore and stiff but all my insides are still there," she assured with an impish grin. She wasn't chipper, but she was going to have a good time whether this doctor chose to play along with her or not. She wasn't about to show any of her cards to this man, her smirk was her poker face and it hadn’t failed her yet. "Lucky? My car is my baby, it's my life partner. I'm more concerned about her, I'm concussed but she's totaled," It was the first time that her lips became down turned, a pout in the name of her Mustang. It was true, that had been the first thing she'd asked about when she'd fully came to. But those were just her priorities. Skewed between her anxieties and depressive acts, it suited her just fine.

"My brother gets to keep his sister, but now how can I pass a car down to him that will steal every girl in his high school?" The blonde continued, acting as if her love for her car was anything but the purely selfish wishes of a twenty year old who had felt that she'd made it all those years ago. Because for what other reason would she have bought a car in New York? "Honestly though doc, my brain feels like it was scrambled," It was the first time she had been medically forthcoming since being admitted. With no fondness for the nurses Evan was perfectly fine admitting that she only liked to play along when she could see something in it for herself. And if she could crack this doctor mask this pretty, pretty man was wearing, well that was surely something in it for her.

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Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

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allthis-andheaven-too:

Alaizabel could feel the ice in her veins turn to fire as the haughty voice on the other end of the line gave her a sarcastic rebuttal. All but snatching the keys from Drystan’s hands as he reached for his set of house keys, Alaizabel stopped out of the threshold in a fury only matched to God himself. Drys tagged along, locking the apartment haphazardly as he looked over at the tiny woman who was clenching her keys so tightly, her knuckled were bone white, and a small amount of blood pooled in her palm. “I don’t need your fucking sarcasm, I need to know where she is!” She barked over him, nearly missing when her called himself her brother. Drys looked sullen, brows eternally furrowed as she made her way down the hall and to the stairs. Whomever this Lyle character was, he wasn’t funny in the slightest… Brother? What brother could he have been to Evan, she knew Evan…Didn’t she? The buzzing in her head only got worse as the man spoke again, saying that Evan was waking up. A literal flood of relief washed over her as she felt her body release muscles she didn’t even know she was clenching. Not even talking to the man on the phone anymore, Alaizabel looked behind her shoulder to Drys, “Get the helmet on, she’s awake,” she muttered, hanging up the line and shoving the phone in her back pocket. Running out the front door of the complex, and ratty looking pair hopped on the bike, and what a site that was. Drys was a clear foot and some change taller than the raggedy woman who revved the engine of her bike and sped off, a burned rubber smell hitting her nose as she bounced over a curb and into the street.

The only hospital she knew had the helipad wasn’t too far from them, and as the boy gripped her waist tightly, she took a second to place her left hand on his arm and squeeze lightly, a solemn little sign that it would be fine. She leaned to turn, bobbing and weaving through cars with an excellent precision. She had no fear of crashing, not now when Evan needed her so badly, needed them. It felt like an eternity, but in five minutes flat they made it into the hospital parking lot, Alaizabel pulling into the closest spot she could before shutting off the bike and following Drystan down. He was gangly but quick, the helmet off his head and respectfully clipped onto the seat of the bike before he was off, with long stride, to the Emergency room entrance. She needed to jog to keep up with the boy, her raspy voice barking out orders the sullen boy refused to utter. “MARIS ELOA EVANS, HER ROOM, NOW, THIS IS HER BROTHER AND I’M HER SISTER!” Alaizabel all but commanded as she kept her pace behind the boy, who eerily seemed to know where his sister was before the shocked and scared nurse could scurry towards the room. With a start Drys opened the door, letting Alaizabel duck under his arm and bolt in. “Evan!” she breathed, her ratty Nirvana tank top falling from her shoulder, her immense dragon tattoo visible and dark against her pale skin, her black bra peeking out, making her look more disheveled and windswept than she cared to look. Her icy eyes were welling, her friend looked like a bloody, bruised, and swollen mess. “What did you fucking do…what did you fucking…do…” the last word a garbled mess in her throat. 

He wasn't sure what to do, he had never felt this way before. He had never been so totally unaware of himself as a person before another human being before. He was supposed to be the little ice prince, nose turned up at the world. He was supposed to walk over others, not be desperate to impose a good impression. Not even on his very first date was he this concerned, a girl name Angela with a smarmy face. "Hi," was all he could squeak out. This was not him, it had been him on the phone. He had no pretenses there, he was able to drop away that innate need to be the most impressive for the need to be the biggest ass hole. But now that bleary eyes were fluttering open and closed, paying him no mind as she lived in a waking dream. Maybe this really was for the best. He could grab his keys and put the pedal to the metal and be gone before whoever was on the other side of the phone could show up, 795 horsepower carrying him away. He could let the all live their dreamy lives together in this town, the type of town you see on a post card. He could go back to his apartment in New Orleans. Go back to writing, to trying to never see the light of day. Tortured artist surely beat this situation he had landed himself in. Why had he even followed this woman? Because he remembered what it was like to have Maris spit in the face of your love and adoration? Why would she want his sympathy? He had known she existed for years, and yet he had not gone to find her. Why? Because he had been taught that she was the living example of failure? Or because part of him was jealous of this fallen angel that had achieved freedom, she had escaped those massive gates. She had probably grown up to have a perfect life in this perfect little post card town. Although, he chased, if that were the case why would she have looked for her birth mother in the first place? If the life that she had here was that perfect. However Lyle didn't have time to chase his thoughts in more circles as a pretty little thing darted into the room.

Immediately backtracking on that thought as he recognized the words between the sobs. This woman, this stranger, his sister. Lyle couldn't help but feel out of place, the room suddenly taken over by emotion. He recalled his grandfather's hospital room, draped in silence often just the pair of them. This was...strange, this felt kind, and it felt lonely. "Who are you?" A quiet voice spoke, the teenage boy had almost gone unnoticed, lurking at the side of her bed, holding a limp hand protectively. They were simple words, but coming form the gangly teenager Lyle knew that they were a threat. He could lay the kid out, but this...he had to be the sibling. She had a real brother. Roughly rubbing at his eyes Lyle stood with a sigh, "I'm Lyle DeLuca, I'm her younger brother," This sounded like a fucking soap opera. "I-I don't know if she told you where she was going today...she drove to my parent's home. I think she wanted to see our mother, her birth mother...and, it didn't go well. I won't overstep her, she can tell you that in her time," He wanted to stand firm in that way, he didn't know her and he didn't want her to hate him already. But he could feel the eerie teenager's eyes boring into him "She was upset, she left crying. I tried to follow after her on the highway and she just...lost control," It was a simple story to tell, and he spun words for a living but these were difficult words to tell.

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Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

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allthis-andheaven-too:

It had already been a long morning for the doctor, his tortoise shell glasses hanging on the tip of his nose. He was milling through patient files, after patient files, the crows feet on his eyes more exaggerated than most days as he squinted at the pages before him. He could never quite understand why they made the print so tiny, and why they bothered thinking it was an effective way to get all the information on there. It looked like ink splatters on a page, and that’s when Dr. Joseph knew he needed to put the file down, and make himself a cup of English Breakfast. Standing from his leather office chair, the doctor gingerly walked towards his small teapot, an oddity to the southern hospital workers he had as co-workers. They were all about their coffee, and Dr. Joseph couldn’t be bothered with the black, tar-like, concoction. He was mindlessly watching his tea steep as he heard a light knocking on the door to his office, his head turning slowly as his turquoise eyes landed on the young, round-faced nurse in the doorway. A light smile touched his tired face as he nodded, “Hello dear, what can I help with?” his English accent heavy and noticeable. The nurse looked upset, but it didn’t bother him much, he figured her morning was just as long as his, and young ones were more prone to getting cranky. “Dr. Joseph, the inpatient Maris Evans’ consultation is about ready. I have her file here, and I’ll walk you to her room,” the young nurse grumbled out.

Looking back at his pot sullenly, Dr. Joseph let out an inaudible sigh, “I’ll be back to you later, my darling cup…” he mumbled softly. Walking towards the nurse, a hand creeping up to his unruly hair, the doctor tried to pat it down to be presentable to the patient. Taking her file, he flipped the cover open to familiarize himself with her. Caucasian, female, twenty-eight years of age, recent victim of a vehicle collision, broken wrist, broken and bruised ribs, mild to moderate concussing, and facial cuts and lacerations to the left side of her body from glass. The doctor shook his head lightly as he followed the nurse aimlessly down the hall, skimming more of the file. He’d have to get a urine sample to see if there was any damage done to her internal organs, that or see if they had even done that the night of the accident. Making it to the room finally, the nurse cracked the door open before stopping, as if she needed a minute. Turning around to the doctor, she looked a bit annoyed. “She’s a hassle doctor, she has been saying no to anything we need done, and its like she doesn’t want our help,” she nurse hissed as Dr. Joseph let out a small chuckle, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but I thank you for the concern, now run along, I’m sure I can handle it from here,” he said softly as he watched her leave. Opening the door, glasses still on the tip of his nose, Dr. Joseph walked in with a smile. “Well, hello there Miss. Evans, I’m Dr. Joseph, how are we feeling this fine Southern morning,” he said with a soft tone to his voice, accent thick like the humidity outside. 

"Well aren't you just a snack?" The words were out of her mouth before her thoughts could even begin to process them, as was the wolfish smirk. She was a sight for sore eyes, a face that only a mother could love, hilarious. That wasn’t a phrase that she could say she was fond of at the moment. But that wouldn't stop her from acting like she was her usual self, sky high heels, false eyelashes, and cast free. Despite the cuts and hospital gown. This was how Evan coped, she loved to clean, and she could clean up her mind by sweeping it all under the rug in the face of a pretty man, in the face of her family, in the face of the world. Because at the end of the day no one had the time for her to be broken, she didn't think. She didn’t have time to be broken, so why would anyone else be able to spare the time for her? It was basic logic. That left the nights she would sneak off to the beach to be her moments of solace, her moments to air her dirty laundry to the ocean. But the woman who would dig her bare feet into the midnight sand as she wept with only the sky as company was not here at the moment, oh no Evan had shoved her deep under the rug. Flirting was easier, and this doctor and his accent were far easier on her mind. Maybe it would be a fun game to play nice for the handsome face and make all the nurses seem insane. "I'm feeling great doc, I could run a marathon," she surmised smoothly, a sticky sweet smile curling across bare lips where lipstick usually sat. Maybe that would be step one to healing, step one to compartmentalizing the car crash that was still happening in her head. To clean herself up, to look more like herself. She'd have to ask Lai to gather up as much of the makeup in her apartment as her little arms could carry.

Watching the man with sharp blue eyes, except they weren't very sharp at the moment were they? The vibrant blue was duller than usual, out of focus almost. The knot on her head was to blame, the steering wheel was to blame. At least it wasn't her nose that had taken the hit. At least that pony wasn’t bruised onto her face. Small victories would lead her out of her dark cloud, probably. "And how are you doc? Did the nurses warn you that I'm difficult, because I promise I'm just the sweetest belle," Evan assured nodding her head sagely, a smirk cracking across her face like a whip, sitting so naturally there one would think that she was born with it. The movement of her head hurt like a mother fucker though, it felt like her brain should be bleeding out of her nose. A grimace flickered across her face for just a moment, but she was resolute to not drop her act, she had to keep herself together in some way shape or form. She had to pick up the pieces that had shattered on that highway. "I really hope you don't believe the rumors," soft laughter chased after her oddly accented words. The accent she'd picked up after her years in New York softened by the southern twang that she'd grown up with in this town. Maybe that was her big mistake, coming back to this town.

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Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

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allthis-andheaven-too:

She was sitting there, alone, curled up on the pristine white couch that belonged to her oldest and dearest friend. If anyone saw here there, with her grungy little outfit, they’d think she was very well capable of sullying the material. But she had just showered, cleaned her piercings, and was completely bored out of her wits. The only thing messy about her was her half dried hair, cut oddly, and blacker than ink. It was curling and beginning to stand on end when she attempted to reach for the remote on the ground, her chipped nail polish looking just as odd against the clean carpet. She couldn’t judge her friend, not one bit. She liked wide open, clean, pristine rooms. The more open it felt, the better. But if Evan wanted open she might as well have lived outside…With her thin fingers wrapped around the remote, Alaizabel began flicking through the channels aimlessly, wondering if starting her bottle of Jack would be a wise idea. She did want to wait for Evan to come home, wanting to ask her friend if she could help her find a job in the meantime…Alaizabel knew she didn’t mind her crashing, but she figured the responsible thing would have been helping with expenses and groceries. She had been riding on the left over cash she snatched from Jeffery, and it nearly wasn’t enough to get her by another month or so. Her eyes were glazing over as she clicked the button mindlessly. Reality TV, News, MTV, News, HGTV…Alaizabel froze, as if an icy, thick, liquid was flowing through her veins. She clicked back, watching the picture on the screen with terrified eyes. No one in this area would drive a screaming beast like that but Evan…

Alaizabel all but fell off the couch, knocking down pillows and the remote with her. She felt it in her chest, that constricting feeling she had when she knew something terrible was happening. Her mind was buzzing, buzzing like the cicadas outside the windows. It grew louder and louder with each terrified motion of her body as she scrambled to figure out where she placed her phone. Not the coffee table, not the couch…There, on the floor with her shoes. She didn’t even realize she was holding the phone to her face as she heard the ringing in her ear. All she wanted, more than anything in that moment, was to hear her idiotically protective friends voice say ‘hello’. Alaizabel’s throat was caving in it almost felt like as she knelt there, her knees shaking, her palms sweaty. Let it be a coincidence…But when she heard a man say ‘hello’ Alaizabel almost lost her balance, the palm pressed against Evan’s hard wood floor slipping. “You’ve reached Maris Evan’s phone, this is Lyle DeLuca, a nurse gave me the phone while she is…incapacitated,” a deep voice, with a light drawl. It made her want to vomit. She couldn’t find words…But she needed to speak. Clearing her voice with a feeble cough, Alaizabel opened her mouth, her tongue oddly dry. “Who the fuck are you Lyle, and which fucking hospital is she at…” she all but snarled into the phone. If anyone should be there, it should be her…But she heard footsteps behind her, and she was reminded instantly she wasn’t alone. 

Drystan had come out of his room, bare feet padding along the floor as he rubbed his cheek in confusion. Alaizabel whipped around, getting to her feet with a newfound cat-like reflex as she felt her anxiety pouring out of her and into the tallest sixteen year-old she had ever met. His cool blues fell onto her icy ones as he furrowed his brow, jeans tattered and shirt a bit too big. “Drys, we need to fucking go…Now, your sister is in the hospital.” She barked, the boy going from a perplexed confusion, to a concerned one as he scooped his shoes from the floor. “Get the fucking helmet too, I cannot afford to get chewed out by the fucking cops…YOU, on the phone fucking answer! Where is she!” her voice was raspy now, desperation clinging to every syllable as she shoved her tiny feet into her tiny boots, Drys handing her the keys to her bike.  

Could he say he was startled? It wasn't a shock that anyone who cared about this woman would be surprised to say the least to hear a total stranger answer her phone. But as Austin liked to say Lyle was a goddamned southern Belle. Graceful and easily offended. He sneered, not much caring that the voice on the other end of the phone couldn't see the curling of his lip, that it had no actual effect. The feeling of not belonging still lived in his bones for now, however something familiar was eking in. Rage. It felt at home in his tongue as he clicked it primly, disapprovingly. He was used to having to impress others however, you did not survive blue bloods without that ability. He'd have to hold back, rein himself in for now. But...worried or not where the fuck did this disorganized voice get off yelling at him?! He never wanted to be like his parents, to honestly believe that fortune made him better than others but in this two bit town his first guess was to equate fortune to education. And education, now that allowed him to feel better than others and sudden yelling and graceless cursing allowed the poet to find a high horse. "Is there more than one in this town?" He drawled out, almost shocked, but mostly dry. It wasn’t the time for this and Lyle knew that, but it was word vomit that he could not hold back. "The only one with a helicopter pad, I don't know the street," Lyle was trying to be helpful in spite of his previous words, in his own haughty way. Hackles raised he was on the defense all at once, not used to being yelled at by strangers, in a strange town, next to a strange woman. Who was making sounds in her sleep, perhaps he was waking her up with his speaking. Perhaps the little voice on the phone was loud enough to have roused her, he would prefer that. Lyle was used to finding scapegoats. But he had more questions to answer, and the question posed was a good one. "I'm...her brother," It took everything in him to say that as a statement and not a question. It was fact, but as this Little One spoke she summoned a sibling. She had a family elsewhere, all at once Lyle felt as if he should leave. He was not needed, he should go back to his life. The life that was going to kill him. He belonged there.

A croak across the room stole his attention however, eyes fluttering open and closed. This was it. He needed to get out, this woman needed family and he was a shell of a sibling. She was not his sister no matter what blood stated. But Lyle was frozen, and selfishly he thought to himself that blood kept him tied to Maris, why should it not also bind these two? But the blood of the covenant would say otherwise. "Drys? Lai?" The strange voice spoke, rougher than usual he might have assumed. She didn't look concerned upon seeing him, assuming that he was staff perhaps? That was a hollow sort of pain, but he could expect no more. "You'd better hurry, she's woken up and is asking for someone more familiar," The man mumbled, voice sounding almost lonely. A feeling he would never admit to.

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Deja Vu Patient (9:37 AM)

What was she supposed to feel after such an accident? Could she be expected to feel anything? It was all...it was just a lot. She had built this woman up in her mind, maybe all abandoned children did that. They built up the mother they would never know to be a Madonna. She owed Marie an apology, she was the Madonna and that foul, rich, cunt was the whore. But that didn't mean that Evan felt like she really had a place in the world, if anything it pushed her further into the void. The only thing grounding her were the constant visits from Lai and Drystan. Big blues pained, worried, and that ached in a way that Evan didn’t like to contemplate. This was her fault, she should have done literally anything different. Maybe drove faster, done more than a broken wrist, more than broken ribs. They would have been free from their worry then. They could have moved on, become healthy happy people without the ocean that was Maris Evan's pulling them down. They likely wouldn't agree, but as she sat alone in her thoughts that didn't matter. Aside from those two she had a third guest, the same eyes that had cast her out. But they were broken in a way that she could understand. He was just a lonely kid lashing out, which rubbed the other two lonely kids the wrong way. She felt like a worn out mother who couldn't bring herself to care, the most she could do was shoo Lai and Lyle from her hospital room when they got into it. Drystan had yet to start a fight, but she could see hatred in his eyes.

Casting a blank stare at the white roses that Drystan had silently placed alongside her bed Evan sighed, and it ached. She wasn’t sure which ached more, her ribs or the smell of her childhood home in the roses. There was not a way that she could move that didn't remind her that she was broken for the time being, that should would not be able to work. For now she relished being on her own, she needed to heal in more ways than one and silence helped. Which the nurses weren't fond of, as it made Evan a rather uncooperative patient. Only willing to bend to their whims when the other's were around, if only to avoid even more guilt. She'd rather stay broken in all reality, maybe this was what she deserved in the end. To be alone, although her door cracked open, she could overhear a nurse whispering warnings. Rolling her eyes the blonde smirked softly. Fresh meat. She was depressed and weak at the moment, but she was still a firecracker.

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Future Reunion (6:54 PM)

Of course he had heard the squabble at the front door of his parent’s home, standing just out of sight, listening as always. Although it could hardly be called a squabble. It was more of a mother culling her own young.That slap across this stranger’s face still rung in his ears. They had more in common then he cared to admit in that moment. He was familiar with Maris DeLuca's temper. But perhaps that showed in his willingness to lie to an EMT, saying that he was her brother as they pulled her ragdoll body from the destroyed mustang. He knew what that rejection felt like and he very nearly wanted to pick up the pieces. But...he technically was her brother. Everyone knew about the DiSanno shame, it had very nearly cost Maris her future. She had been promised to his father long before she had become a coquettish and idyllic teenage girl, long before she had become the icy cunt that she was now. Once as a boy while helping his grandfather clean out their attic he'd found an old diary written in a teenage girl’s hand, wistfully expressing a want to love this unborn child. Part of him wanted to believe that it was a mistake, that Maris had never been a loving person. But perhaps if circumstances had been different this woman would have truly been his sibling, and they would have had a loving mother. Together.

But he didn't know her, and he did not know if she had one somewhere. Watching the news sick to her stomach as she saw her child's car totaled. He wondered if they had called any family for her, what they might say when they saw the platinum blonde awkwardly sitting in the far corner of the room. He'd held his grandfather's hand in the hospital as he'd passed, they had told him it would make it easier for the man. But he doubted that would work this time, but was there anything that Lyle did not doubt? He did not doubt art, beauty, and poetry. He did not doubt Lamborghini, he did not doubt the power of a black card. He did not doubt that the iPhone in his hand that very much did not belong to him was vibrating Little One was calling. Did she have a kid?! She was older than him, but he couldn't tell a kid that he'd never met that their mom was passed out and bandaged up, that he didn't know what was coming next. But he also couldn't not tell them that, "Hello?" he croaked out, clearing his throat southern drawl soft as he attempted to speak as if he had some sort of courage "You've reached Maris Evan's phone, this is Lyle DeLuca, a nurse gave me the phone while she is...incapacitated," it was an awkward finish, left hanging uncomfortably in the air, nestled alongside the steady beeping of machinery. This wasn’t him, but at that moment, he was lost in himself and in this town. 

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But I Love It (9:14 PM)

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allthisandheavan-too:

Alaistair stiffened. He didn’t expect this kind of reaction to come out of the kid, and it was slowly turning his annoyance into aggitation. Part of him wanted to leave, see if someone else will have him for the night. Icy eyes landed on the kid, never mind trying to avoid his snappy words now. His face was hard, and he didn’t know if he came across as too cold or uncaring, but he didn’t seem to care anymore. He didn’t like how Lyle was just assuming, making judgement calls on his character as if he really knew Alaistair. He didn’t. If anyone knew the confusing rocker, it was Mike, and even Mike could see that this was a difficult choice for Alaistair to make. And not because he was indecisive or cruel, but because he really honestly cared…and it confused him, a lot. Running a hand along his chin, he sighed, as if the sigh was supposed to make it easier to release his annoyance.

“Think what you will, and make the jokes you want, but you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” he muttered, a sharp edge to his voice. Now he defintely needed Jack, a bit of support in this losing battle. It wasn’t going to get better, the kid was scorned and jealous, and that he knew how to deal with in a woman. But a man seemed like a whole different challenge that he was not ready for. Alaistair didn’t know why it made him so anxious, and maybe he and Mike needed to talk about it. Mike would know, it was his kid brother that was doing this to him after all. “Anything else to say, or will you just keep chastising me cause I can’t make a choice…” he snipped, cocking a brow attempting to give the air of not giving a fuck, and hoping to whomever that it was working.

His jaw was clenched all at once, rage felt like vomit burning at his throat. It itched at his palms, fingers wanting to bash against Alistair's beautiful face. Bash, and bash, until he felt the satisfying crack of bone he'd become so familiar with. It was the worst side of him, the part that he hated, wanted to cut away like a tumor. He was used to his rage, used to the anger issues that had all but ruined his life on so many occasions, but he wasn't used to violent urges regarding the man before him. His fingers began to shake and he wanted to fidget with them but the blonde simply balled them up into tight fists, grinding his teeth hard enough for his jaw to crack. It was just supposed to be a stupid joke, and now he was the ass hole. He was the idiot of the situation, not the ass hole who had taken him to bed without thought for the feelings of the other person. "No, I clearly don't. Sorry to assume you had a sense of humor, Ali," he ground the words out sharply, using the nickname he hated so much. "There was never an option of a choice and we both know it, you fucked your best friend's little brother out of pity, or maybe because I was the closest hole," The words were pouring out the way they had denied him when it came to paper.

"But that's just the big bad rock star life, huh? Too good for anyone, too good for shitty jokes, too good for the feelings of the people around you?" He was losing control of himself and he could feel it, shaking with the inferno in his gut. Not sure if Alaistair understood the exact danger that lurked on the other side of the room.

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Whirlwind (4:16 PM)

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allthisandheavan-too:

Chuckling a bit, enjoying the way the innocence just rolled off the boy, Jean-Luc nodded the apology away, looking at the boy with earnest eyes. “Well, my French is from a small part of France, and maybe it’s just how we were taught,” he said, finally finding his English tongue. He didn’t want to impose on speaking French all the time, assuming they were fluent like him. Maybe they spoke a sub-classed French, from Belgium, or even Haiti. They had the complexion for either. But then again he didn’t want to assume, again. Running a hand through his hair, Jean smiled apologetically. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of you time, I just haven’t met a French speaking person in a while. Felt like home a little,” he rattled on, knowing how stupid he seemed. And honestly he didn’t mean to take up so much of their time. It was quite rude of him, and he could hear his mother screeching in the back of his head.

Nodding a bit, looking like a fool, he shuffled on his feet. Now that he made the conversation it would just be rude of him to walk away, but he wanted to for some reason. Usually he was smoother than this, and it was becoming increasingly annoying to him that he was so awkward around the woman and the boy. Trying not to look annoyed, not wanting to give off the air of being rude, Jean-Luc smiled sweetly. “Have you been here for long?” he asked awkwardly, adding to the conversation more rather than allowing her to talk. It made him look stupider, and he turned in sapphire eyes elsewhere, looking at the boys shoes instead. They were cute shoes, cuter than any shoe he had as a child by far.

It was a relief to hear English again all at once, it wasn't her first language easier, but required a lot less translating on her part. "Please don't think twice about it," the model spoke with the sort of sweet smile she'd offer a camera. It was that very same sweet smile that garnered her the name Princess Kitty, little girls tittered that she looked like a Disney princess. It was oddly flattering, even though she was of the school that the classical tales were far better than the current remakes. "I'm sure Claude feels the same, he's was raised in Haiti speaking nothing but French," She surmised with a small shrug, a hand gently squeezing the boys shoulder as he pouted. "Because it's better," Was his accented and surly reply, soft enough to be lost between the sounds of the grocery store. Her smile faltered for a split second, Claude didn't want to come to states, he was happier in Haiti. Maybe they should have tried harder to make it work. She had wanted to stay for her son, to try and figure something out between herself and Manny but she knew better. Kitty had a kind heart but she understood that Claude would be better off with two parents who loved him, even if they couldn't love one another. Maybe even two sets of parents someday.

"Not very long, a few months," The brunette surmised, having to think back to the tabloids and their gossip about her divorce. It was easiest to date her life by the months marked on those glossy pages than by her own memory every now and again. Which was only slightly depressing, she didn't like to reflect on that portion of her life very much. "And how about you? To be missing home you've either been here for too long or not long enough," Kitty said with a bright laugh.

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A.D. Miller; In The Pool; At Seven (6:03 PM)

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allthisandheavan-too:

Looking in the direction of the pair of idiots, even Austin became hopeful that maybe, just maybe, something would happen to shorten this affair. But by the looks of it, that wasn’t the case. With no gravelings in sight, it would be hard to imagine this boy in any sort of mortal danger. Sighing a bit, Austin shrugged, letting his partner know he was as discontented as she looked. And for good reason too. He was growing too bored of this party, and honestly he would have been alright with any of these sorry excuses for humans dying right here and now. Looking at his watch, it seemed close enough to the time, or so he hoped for whomever this person was to die already. But he knew they would have to find them first, saving their souls and all. It was a tricky business, but rules were rules and he needed to follow them to move on. Quota and all.

Looking at the pool area again, Austin wondered who would it be that that fell to their deaths around the pool, maybe.  He couldn’t remember if it was in, around, near…He just knew there wasa  pool, and there would be death, and someone would be touching a soul and moving on. “Do you think it’s a woman? There’s a drunk woman in the pool,” he muttered, half pointing her out, not wanting to draw too much attention to her just in case it was her. She was clinging to an inter tube for dear life, one hand clutched around her beer her eyes as glassy as the water of the pool. He hoped there was a graveling somewhere, anywhere.

Turning her sights to the sloppy young woman as she shouted and giggled, none of her words making much of any sense, but she was having a damn good time. Part of Marnie aches watching the scene, she wasn't the biggest fan of reaping such young children for...being young. Of course the girl was being foolish, she was all but inviting death into the pool with her, but she was just a baby. But Marnie would never allow her mothering heart to step into the ring with her when it came to things like this. Death came to all, old and young. She'd even carried a few babies off into the void, kissing their heads and singing softly to them as she did. Locking herself away every time. "Deaths are getting so boring these days, they used to be so creative," She commented dully, not allowing her thoughts to burst into conversations where they did not belong. Fiddling slightly with her sunglasses the ginger searched around for the little monsters, the gravelings. Smiling in a slight sense of victory as she spotted the thing inspecting the water before diving in. Surprisingly good swimmers.

"You've found our girl, red," She spoke in a teasing voice, glancing up at her fellow ginger, a mischievous grin across her lips. "Someone will have to get her, and I'm not getting in that pool in a white dress, seems like you're up Austin," She cooed, voice lowering in tones just a bit, sounding flirtatious in the most laughable manner that Marnie could muster up, holding back the giggles that wanted to burst forth.

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Sting Like A Bee (7:16 AM)

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allthisandheavan-too:

It wasn’t much to take in, and he knew the tasks already. He had seen movies and televisions shows on them, and horror stories from other classmates who had done them during school instead of after like him. Maverick was sure he had this. Besides, what was the worse she could dish out to him? Telling him some extreme Starbucks order that he could only half remember when he got chocked up on the line with a million angry New Yorker’s behind him? No sweat, he hoped. Nodding briskly, icy eyes sharp and ready for the worst Maverick asserted what little dominance he had. “I am sure I won’t let you down, Miss Hunt,” he said with a slightly tern voice. He didn’t know when you stand, or if he should wait on her…or if he was supposed to jump into work just then and there.

“Thank you again, for accepting the internship,” he said earnestly, going for the appreciative route, nodding a little. “I will take full advantage of what you’re willing to teach me,” he added, shuffling to the edge of his seat a bit, becoming a little stir crazy. “May I start my tasks? Any coffee this morning, papers or files to run?” Maybe it was better to just start, show her he was ready and willing to just dive in head first into the world of being a slightly, to sit paid intern in New York City. Thankfully his fathers weren’t poor or struggling…and he wondered if he had his sister if they’d struggle. Shaking his head a bit, trying to get the odd thoughts out of his head, Maverick focused on the directions that were about to be spewed on him.

He seemed unbothered by the tasks placed before him, she was less than appreciative. Tasha thrived off of the feeling of making others squirm beneath her manicured fingers. Astrid said that she was a sadist, to which Tasha rolled her green eyes. White people, leave it to them to think that they discover everything first. But she'd never say that to Astrid, oh no, she loved the odd and slightly absent minded woman. But that was far from her mind as she tapped that perfect manicure across the glass surface of her desk, silent in thought. Coffee? On his first day? That was easy, something that she didn't feel like bothering with. "No, no, I've had enough coffee for the day," she announced smoothly, always watching her appearance. She had a silent terror of the dentist's office and the last thing she wanted to do was take a stroll on in because she'd yellowed her perfect pearly whites with a bit too much coffee. She wanted to throw him a curveball, no, she wanted to hurl a curveball at him and send the boy reeling. See what he could do under pressure, it was too bad the next gala was months away. Soon enough she'd get to see if he squirmed around real pressure, but for the time being she'd had to make do.

Turning easily in her chair the brunette began tapping away on her keyboard, pulling up several images, prospective covers for the coming month. "Which do you think would be best, eye catching, but nothing too emotional, but not too cold, political and smart, but not on either side, or too moderate, and dumb enough for the average person to understand," It sounded like a ridiculous list, but it was a list they'd all gone through. Waiting silently Tasha turned her eyes on the boy before her, simply observing the cogs working.

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The First of Many (9:18 PM)

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He could feel the venom bubbling and foaming in his throat. There wasn’t a prayer she could have in this world that could save her from this fight she wanted to apparently start. But something stopped him cold in his tracks, the blood and the bubbles rushing away from his head. From red to white, his vision was clear, and his hands fell limp to his side. Turning around on his heel, Liam looked at the woman with confusion. This wasn’t right, but he knew somewhere deep in his gut he was right. The smell, it was the smell. He couldn’t have noticed it before, there was no way with all the damn candles, and decorations. But walking past her…there was no way to miss it. His face paled, ocean blue eyes looking at her with disbelief, even distrust. Was she not going to tell him…Was it even his? He snuffed that thought out before the anger bubbled back into his head as he looked at her, brows knitting with concern.

“Were you going to tell me?” he huffed out, voice immediately softer as if that were, or would, effect the baby at all. Pup, baby…pups? He couldn’t tell, too early he supposed. “I feel like I should have known, why wouldn’t you tell me, Maris” he almost hissed this time, hands shoved in his pockets now. Liam felt awkward, it was like he could feel the heat of the twinkling lights, the candles, and the warmth all around. He shuffled about a bit, stepping back from her, he was too close and he felt more than awkward, it was now uncomfortable. His eyes were on her stomach, curious, angry, upset, concerned. Pups, his maybe…hopefully? Is that what they were ready for? Could they be ready for it. He could be, but could she make it work? They? Would it ruin them, was she better off without him…”Maris, answer me at least,” he added, nose scruntching up and his voice gruff.

This wasn't what she had been expecting, not that she had planned this far at all. Maybe him snapping back, but that was just a theory of practice, nothing that she had concocted in her pretty blonde head hours prior. His behavior did a total one eighty, she'd never seen Liam behave like this. All at once his voice was softer and he almost looked betrayed, with a few strands of hope. Maybe doubt, she couldn't put a finger on it but it was beginning to make her slightly uncomfortable, more than slightly really. More so inflated by the way his eyes had become glued to her stomach. Automatically wrapping her thin arms around herself, as if she could break his gaze with that action alone. It didn't seem to help, sadly. "Wh-what are you talking about Liam?" She demanded quietly, temper dampened by her mate's odd behavior. She didn't trust the situation, not in the least. She wanted to back away into their room and quietly try to understand just what was going through this man's head.

But she was pinned under his gaze, in a way that she wasn't used to, in a way that terrified her. If there was anything that Maris could not stand it was being on lower footing than anyone and right now Liam seemed to know something that she didn't and she wanted to put a stop to it right this very second. "I don't hide anything from you Liam, you should know that," She forced the words out, her letters shaking at the edges. She wanted to sound demanding, as if she was commanding a pup to answer her, but she couldn't bring that force out of her throat. The only thing that she could summon at that point was a whimper of confusion, wanting to know what he was keeping from her.