#4gntstwll

[suredid]

@4gntstwll

"Why are you the way you are, dude?"

Darcy had never seen a hotel room so freakishly clean after three days of use. Like, so clean that the cleaning ladies were probably taking notes or something. It baffled Darcy that anyone could take such care when they had people to do that for them AND when it wasn't even their actual home.

Her room, which was conveniently connected by a little door, much like Sharon's was on the other side of Jasper's, was probably in need of FEMA with how much of a mess it was.

She briefly entertained the image of Jasper seeing the mess and fainting from shock but deep down she knew he'd handle it like he did everything.

With ridiculous resilience and internal screaming one could only see through the widening of his beautiful eyes.

She had pushed past him at this point, not even bothering to ask if she could come in, and tossed herself on to the nearest of the two beds, rumpling the tucked in comforter and carefully poised pillows with one hefty bounce.

"Are you ready for tomorrow's interviews?" that was not why she was there. Of course he was ready.

Sharon was too and Darcy was born ready, this was her bread and butter.

She tugged at the hem of her t-shirt that had risen over her belly when she flopped and began to fiddle with it while watching him, thumbs curling inward against the hem then pushing it outward again, over and over.

[suredid]

You can still hear the pop-thump of the drumbeat when he plucks your ipod, headphones and all, right out of your hands like some kind of nun catching you reading comic books slipped between the pages of your out-of-date textbook. It wouldn't surprise you if he managed to draw a yard stick out of no where to slap your knuckles when you try to snatch the ipod back.

(i saw you standing on the opposite shore, but by the time the first bombs fell we were already bored)

You show him your palms, like it's a magic trick. See? Nothing here and nothing there, now keep watching, don't look away-

"There is absolutely NOTHING scientific in that thing unless you count Chemical Calisthenics," your magic fails. He is too slick, dark eyes flashing like the lightning bursting behind the inky black of a night born storm. He knows you're going to try and fake him out and you know he knows but you try it anyway, like the fucking fool that you are.

Maybe because something about that look burns you to the bone and the last time someone was able to make you feel that way with a look ended up breaking your heart.

And YOU ended up breaking their nose, but you don't try that with someone who likely has a gun and no qualms about breaking your wrist if you try and wrestle your ipod away from him.

Darcy Lewis, The Fool, makes a poor effort to MAYBE reach for the ipod again and then the burn comes along and it's all memories of angry nuns and boys with blood gushing from their nose and the word the boy yelps, scathing and biting at you like a heated hound: bitch, bitch, bitch.

You drop your hands.

"If you delete a single song from there..." the threat feels empty but something catches in your throat when you mutter it. What will you do if you never get it back?

Get a new one? Download everything all over again?

He glances at the screen that gives away the name of the song still playing freely.

You think you see a hint of a smile when he turns away and it should really piss you off, shouldn't it? You even try to imagine him in the place of your ex, broken nose and calling you a bitch, but--

It doesn't work.

You spend most of the night staring up at the ceiling trying to conjure the anger you wanted to feel when you saw him almost smile and it never seems to come. It's just you and your foolish heart thrumming to the beat of a song you can still hear playing in your head.

(sometimes i can't believe it, i'm moving past the feeling again.)

@4gntstwll