scout hampton

Books To Reality | Graceton

emberreed

He was certain, as his lips effortlessly and instinctively glided across hers in a passionate and achingly emotion laced kiss, that there had never been a moment quite like this in his life; and that there wouldn’t be one that came close in comparison again. Maybe it was the thought processes of a love sick teenager, maybe other people would simply brand him as delusional or caught up in the excitement of it all. But Tris wasn’t anything if not level headed, he was rational even in the worst of times, therefore he understood that this was far more than raging hormones, it was real; it was pure and this truly was a once in a lifetime experience. He was lucky really; highly fortunate to have found someone with whom he shared a deep set connection, someone he had grown to adore not just physically, but emotionally, intellectually and everything else in between. The fact of the matter was that he was in love with her, even if he felt as if he was still falling. So, he let the kiss consume him, his every nerve ending, every single fragment of his consciousness, being taken over by the warmth and pressure of her body against his as he held her tightly in his arms, the sensation of her lips against his own; the irresistible aroma of her perfume intertwined with an intangible natural scent. Tightening his arms almost protectively around her considerably smaller frame, his taut chest rising and falling against hers, he sighed subtly as her lips parted beneath his own in response to the caress of his tongue to her lower; him taking her guidance to then slip his tongue into the warm confines of her mouth, him expertly and tauntingly massaging her identical muscle with his. It was intoxicating, she was intoxicating and he didn’t want it to end, he was more than sure he could spend the rest of the night, maybe even the week kissing her and it’d never be enough, he’d still long for her just as much as he had before they’d touched like this.

Brow creased slightly in emotion, his eyes firmly shut the action casting alluring shadows atop his heavily defined cheekbones, he moaned into the kiss in pleasure; the sound small, deep and illustrious, sending vibrations through his throat that emanated into her mouth. He wanted her to know how much he wanted this, how much he’d in a sense, always wanted this; he wanted for her to have no doubt within the back of her mind in regards to how he saw her, or how he thought of her. Of course, the chances of her being able to sense that he was in love were slim, but he hoped that at least a flicker of his feelings towards her were being communicated during the silent act; the kiss burning with a fiery passion as well as a slow burning sense of adoration. Nothing else mattered in that very moment no matter how selfish that could seem to most. He wasn’t worried about Noah, about how this could affect their dynamic, he spared no thought for any time that lay ahead after their lips parted and they had no choice but to detach themselves from each other; he just enjoyed the moment, drowning in everything that was Scout, knowing that if he was never blessed with such an experience again, he could at least commit it to memory. They say that all good things must come to an end and after a few more elongated moments of acts of affection, it rang true for Tris and Scout, him reluctantly pulling his lips away from hers, his teeth grazing her lower lip slowly as if to imprint his touch upon her skin. He didn’t move too far away, his features still mere inches from her own and his arms firmly around her waist as he attempted to regain composure; to slow his breathing that had helplessly grown elevated during their kiss. Slowly, as if he were afraid it would all be part of his imagination, he allowed for his eyelids to flutter open; his striking blue orbs locking against her features before he whispered “I… Mm… Wow. That was…” Him pressing his lips together to stifle a chuckle that threatened to arise, him finding amusement in his own speechless state; knowing that, it was her and her touch that had caused it.

#p: btr #yours was great #mine however is not

She was questioning how she had managed to go so long without this type of kiss. Scout kissed a lot of boys, some boys she didn’t even know the name of, but nothing compared to this. She wondered if the reason she hadn’t experienced this type of emotionally-crippling-body-numbing kiss before was because she was meant to experience it with Tris. She was never the type to believe in fate, never the type to think about what was meant to be; she didn’t believe in destiny or serendipity. She couldn’t allow herself to, because then she wondered why it was that her parents died – what they had ever done to deserve such a short life. But perhaps it was different, perhaps she was allowed to think about destiny and fate and serendipity with Tris because it made her happy. Maybe Scout had punished herself for long enough and he was her reprieve, her break from everything, the air she inhaled when she broke the surface of the tumultuous waves that had crashed down around her for the past four years.

There was absolutely no doubt that Tris was, in a way, saving her from everything. Both he and Noah and their infuriatingly surprising entrance into her life pulled her from that world of literature that she hid herself away in. What she had once considered a gift was now looking like a burden and each moment she spent with Tris, each moment she stayed in his presence or longed to be around him, Scout became increasingly aware of how wonderful reality could be. He was the first person in a long time who was able to make her remember how things could be if you let them be. The emotion with which he kissed her was mind numbing and even though her thoughts were flying, they were doing so in a way that was led by emotion and not logic. She was feeling and thinking because of those feelings and that was exhilarating. Scout wound her arms around his neck a bit more, welcoming his tongue with hers easily and without nerves or apprehension. It felt so seamless as their tongues moved together, as their lips remained locked and their breaths held in pause to contribute to the head spinning action.

The end of the kiss felt like the world was fast forwarding to the preset, as if that kiss had suspended them in a moment and the world had continued to turn around them. She inhaled shakily, her eyes still closed, and didn’t pull away as his teeth grazed against her lip. She actually followed the action slightly in longing. Her hands were shaking, actually her entire body was trembling slightly from the buildup of adrenaline and lack of oxygen. She could feel his gaze on her, but her eyes remained closed even as he spoke. It was difficult for her to find words; she was absolutely speechless for the second or third time that night. After a few seconds ticked by, Scout opened her eyes and looked at him. She was still clinging to him as if the idea of letting him go actually terrified her because she wouldn’t be able to hug him like she was now – she wouldn’t be able to feel the warmth of his body against hers.

“That was a kiss worthy of a story,” Scout finally managed in a whisper, wondering if the meaning would convey itself properly to Tris. Few things in life were worth being documented, especially in her life. Scout didn’t keep a diary, everything she felt would be placed into poetry or a story… this was going to do just that. “I won’t lie, I’ve been waiting a while for that.”

Text || Scout

Tris: I refuse to believe that, Scout. I have every faith in the notion that your writing is incredible. I don't need to have read it, I don't need to have been shown pages and pages of your work. I can just feel it, it sounds cheesy and cliche, maybe even unrealistic, but I just /know/ you are talented.

Tris: Then I'm not really sure what his intentions were, maybe he just wanted to assess what kind of guy I am. To see if I'm good enough to be in your company.

Tris: How do you know? You haven't... You haven't heard one of my pieces, I could be the worst composer in the world, I could just be some average piano player who can do nothing but sing songs and play classical pieces written by someone else. You were meant to do this! If you love it Scout, if you really love writing as much as I think you do, you'd chase that dream instead of resigning yourself to a career path you don't really want; to a life without the passion and excitement of doing what you adore. So you figure it out, you have time, you don't have to make a decision right now. /We'll/ figure it out, I'll help you... There are a lot of writers out there, do you think that they are just stuck in an unrealistic literary world too? What makes them and you different? Aside from the fact that I know you are so much more talented than most of the authors out there. But you don't know you're going to fail until you try, just like I don't. You shouldn't change anything...

Scout: Tris... I'm just so tired of hearing how much my parents would be disappointed in my inability to grow up and take responsibility in something other than disappearing into a world full of fictional characters and dramatic plots. I'm so tired of hearing Bell repeatedly tell me that what I want to do with my life isn't acceptable or realistic and I'm tired of the guidance counselor shoving brochures at me for universities where he thinks I can find my feet in a stable career while still exploring my love and passion for writing. Maybe you're so much stronger than me, able to face those obstacles. They just keep chipping at pieces of me.. telling me that while I might just be good enough, I won't be able to make a career out of it. Novelists don't get very far unless they're the exception to rules and I've never been an exception to rules... except for yours and you know... I kind of feel like being that exception is all I really need to be happy. I don't need to be an exception to the world of literature and publishing to be happy and I'm learning that now. Then again maybe I'm just fooling myself. Regardless, throwing this manuscript in the fire - this book that I finished writing three years ago.. a year after my parents died... this book that is filled with self loathing and frustrated teenage girl orphan-y angst... it's not going to hinder me or stop me from loving writing, it's just... me putting childish notions to rest.

No that’s not it…For God’s sake, this isn’t about me?! I’m trying to protect you from winding up like me. You don’t see the potential you have, because the people criticizing you are too fucking stupid to realize how fantastic it is. You’re giving up dreams that you could accomplish, and that’s a huge mistake. I’d..never dream of hurting you…physically or mentally…this is just something you cannot do.

Like winding up like you would be so horrible? Come on, Zane, you really think you're protecting me from the worst possible scenario? Ending up working in a bookstore for the rest of my life isn't the worst possible scenario. Having everything I've ever loved and worked hard turn out to be a failure? That's the worst possible scenario. I'm not giving up dreams, I'm just being more realistic. I know.. unless it involves throwing a book at me.

#tris #jifhewipfbwpigwofwoifnq MY. HEART.

Text || Scout

Tris: Or maybe it should be, maybe it's what you were meant to do with your life. I'm not a huge believer in fate or destiny, but you have a talent when it comes to words and I do believe, that you were always meant to be a writer; that your words were meant to be enjoyed by others and that they still are.

Tris: Well, he succeeds, he severely tests my patience. Well, he's not going to scare me away from you if that's his intention, is he? I'm pretty sure that's an impossibility. I guessed as much, I kind of put the dynamic you have with him and his occupation together.

Tris: But that just means you get to prove them wrong when you /do/ succeed. I have everyone who should support me against my goal Scout, but that just makes me even more determined to show them that I can make a life out of what I love doing. It's not different, I'm not any more talented than you are, hell I'm pretty sure in the real world, in the world that lies outside of the music room, I'm average; I'm just one of many substandard composers. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop creating music. Every story has been told by someone else, I'm pretty sure there's only so many existing plots in the world, that most successful authors are just writing something that someone else has already written, just with different words. But guess what? That's okay because it's how you tell the story and what originality you bring to it that counts. It's the words you choose, the way in which you explore the story line that gets people hooked. You're making something new each time you write, for no other piece of writing could ever be identical to it. You have so much talent Scout, you have such a beautiful way with words. I believe you can do this, I just... I know you can succeed at it, for every single time I make a joke about you becoming this famous author, there's sincerity behind my words. I don't want you to throw that all away, I don't want for you to go through life pushing aside what you love. I don't want to have to watch you waste your gift. To deny the world of your work would be a great crime against literature, Scout. Please don't do this, don't throw away your dream. That isn't you, the girl I... She wouldn't do that. She'd tell them to fuck off and keep chasing that dream regardless of how much they disapproved of her doing so.

Scout: My words will not be enjoyed by anyone.. They're not as great as you think they are.

Scout: No, I don't think he has any real intention of scaring you off. It would devastate me and successfully ruin my relationship with him so... he'd rather fling himself off a cliff.

Scout: Yeah, but all those people telling you those things are idiots and just plain wrong. I don't know, Tris... Maybe I wasn't ever meant to write or be a writer or be published. I can't just chase a dream. School's ending in six or so months and I have no idea what I'm going to do. I've been foolishly stuck in this literary world of.. never having to grow up and maybe they're all right: maybe it's a crutch for me to hide from everything painful, you know? I love writing... I love writing more than anything in this world... but I can't take the idea of failure, complete and total failure, in it. I wouldn't be wasting a talent or a gift, because I'd still write... I just would do it... differently.

No, I won’t drop it, because this shit it your life. It’s going to be my life listening to you moan and groan a few weeks down the line when you realize how fucking stupid you’re being. You worked so hard on it, and now you’re throwing it away. I don’t care what the reason is, it’s not worth ruining this, and I won’t let you do it.

Then I won't fucking bitch at you about it! Jesus Christ.. if that's what you're worried about, don't worry, Zaniel.. you're off the fucking hook! What are you going to do? Legitimately assault me and take the fucking manuscript?

Text || Scout

Tris: You don't think I know that? I'm quite aware of what makes you the person you are and no, writing isn't all you are; but you can't say it's not a part of you.

Tris: I'm pretty sure he despises me.

Tris: You sound so much like your cousin right now it's insane. Wait, is that what this is about? Has she been onto you again but your career and you're just going to let her win? You're just going to give up, just like that because of one person's opinion? If we're playing that game maybe I should just run home now and pick up every song I've written, every musical score I've penned and throw them into the fire. Not a single member of my family believes I'll ever make it as a composer, I'm pretty sure everyone I meet is certain that it's never going to happen for me unless I buy my way into the industry. So, do you think I should just give up? Do you think I should throw away something I've dedicated years to, something I love all to chase something more realistic?

Scout: It is a part of me, but maybe it shouldn't be the biggest part that dictates what I do with my life.

Scout: No, he doesn't despise you. He's just Zane. He likes to get on everyone's nerves and... if you're connected to me, he's going to try extra hard. His mom runs that bookshop I've told you about. I practically grew up there with him.

Scout: Maybe it is. She's not the only one saying it. But Tris that's completely and entirely different. Your talent exceeds mine and you have a higher chance of doing something with it than I do. My stories are old and tired and have been told a thousand times over. You make something /new/ each time you write music. I'm just using different words to tell the same stories.

Not going to happen sunshine. C’mon, why?

Zane. Can you drop it, please? It's my decision and it's final.

Text || Scout

Tris: And it isn't like committing suicide? I know how much writing means to you, I know that it's a part of you and throwing it into the fire, all that hard work being burnt to ash, it'll be like throwing a part of who you are in there along with it. I can't let you do that...

Tris: Feel free to do what you want with Zaniel, the guy can be a real ass.

Tris: I know for a fact that was a lie, even through text. Come on, this is me you're talking to, you can confide in me; what's wrong? What changed, Scout?

Scout: Writing isn't /all/ I am, Tris.. I mean, I wouldn't /literally/ be throwing myself into the fire or anything like that.. I'd continue on.

Scout: Oh.. don't I know it? 15 years of dealing with that little asshole is enough to last a lifetime.

Scout: I'm just chasing a pipe dream, Tris. I won't get anywhere with it. It's time to put all that behind me.. focus on something more.. realistic. So manuscript meet fire.

Text || Scout

Tris: I know what you're about to do and I just want to understand why and for you to hear me out. Please?

Tris: Scout... Why are you going to throw away the one thing you've worked so hard on? The one thing that I know, means an awful lot to you.

Scout: You just made it sound like I'm about to commit suicide. I'm going to kill Zaniel. Seriously slaughter him..into tiny bitty pieces and then scatter them all over the world so he can't be reassembled.

Scout: It's not a big deal, really.

Mm…no. Why are you throwing it in anyway?

Also a personal reason. Seriously, Cobain, butt out.

I’ll be damned if that book goes in this fire. Please.

Zaniel. Go away. Go... be annoying elsewhere.

Oh..but I will.

Zane, it's my choice what I throw into that fire and this is what's going in.

I will wrestle your small body to the ground and pry that manuscript out of your lady fingers Scout Hope Hampton.

You will do absolutely no such thing.

You’re what. No. No no. NO. No Scout.

You know the whole concept of a burning boat is that I get to choose what to throw into it, right?

I act my age, thank you. I’m just having fun. Live a little Scouttt. Your book? Which one? You own a shit ton.

I live a lot, thanks. No, Zaney, my book.

Womp, womp, womp, wa, womp. All you ever do is belittle my maturity level Scoutie. So that means you’re not good and ready now? So lemme just take care of it until you are, yeah? What the hell is it anyway?

It's the easiest thing to belittle. You act less like a 20 year old and more like a 16 year old. No, you aren't gonna take care of it. It's my book.