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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 3, 2009 1:06:51 GMT -5
A beach party. How much fun could that be? Jason wasn’t even sure why he was going; all he was going to do was get drunk and get a farmer’s tan; his orange shirt was not leaving his body. Who would want to see his hideous scars? He didn’t even want to see them himself. Actually, he knew damn well why he was going to this get together. It was suppose to be the “big thing” before school started again and he hoped, he hoped oh so much, that Anabel would be there and maybe, just maybe he’d be able to talk to her. It was pathetic, after all this time, he was still sulking over her. Yes, his fasting had slowly come to a close and he was very slowly starting to regain some of his weight, but he was still addicted to alcohol and unless Ana had something to do with it, he doubted he’d quit anytime soon.
So, filled with an empty sort of hope, he half-heartedly pulled on a pair of swim trunks and a matching shirt and stumbled down to his garage, sliding a pair of orange flip flops on his feet on the way out. Sliding in his sleek, silver car, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out one of his thousands of pairs of sunglasses, slipping them over his dark eyes. If Ana really was there, he wanted to be able to shield his emotions as best as he could, at least until he got into the beer they were sure to have there. It was disgusting how much he had been drinking lately; he had gone from the guy who wouldn’t touch an alcoholic drink to the one whom was drunk every night, not remembering how he got home.
The ride to the beach was smooth, silent. He hadn’t even really listened to music in a while for fear one of the songs that popped up would be one of their songs, one they had danced to or sung as loud as they could. He was almost to the causeway when he saw a small corner store and against his better judgment, he pulled in for a brief pit stop, pulling out his wallet with his license in it on the way into the store. He was back to his car in less than two minutes, putting the bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his trunk. Though every kind of whiskey had a bitter, disgusting taste, it was the kind that had really grown on him, since most places didn’t carry the more expensive brands.
Glowering at himself, he turned back onto the road and in no time he was on the island, parking a little ways away from the rest of the cars, careful with his expensive Mercedes. Getting out of his silver car, he grabbed his beach towel from the back seat and headed, well, towards the beach. Even if he wasn’t going to take his shirt off, he figured he should have a towel, just in case someone persuaded him to go in the water. As he walked through the parking lot, the noise from the beach getting louder as he approached, he kept his gaze directly in front of him, not searching the cars for Anabel’s, as he so badly wanted to. If he saw it, he wasn’t quite sure if he’d stick around or head right back out to his car and go home, emptying the bottle of whiskey that was in his trunk as soon as he got home.
Flip, flop, flip, flop, he concentrated on the sound his sandals made as they smacked his heels, dropping his gaze to the sand in front of him when he actually made it to the beach. Glancing around, trying hard not to focus on the long haired blondes and see if they were his ex-girlfriend, he found a part of the beach that was rather empty compared to the rest of it and wandered over, tossing his towel down and flopping his body down on it, still cautious with his wrist. The swelling had gone down immensely, but on some days it would inflate to where it had been previously, sometimes worse, if he moved it too much. Buying the wrist brace at the local pharmacy had helped greatly, but he wasn’t going to wear the brace to the beach.
Sighing as he glanced around, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Anabel or not, what he’d say if she was there. Would he talk to her or would he turn the other way? As he scanned the beach, he found a small stand selling beer and he exhaled deeply. That was both relieving and sickening all in one. Relieving, because if Ana showed up with another guy, he could hopefully drink it away. Sickening because he actually thought he might have to get drunk to push away his pain yet again. He didn’t know how the day would play out, but he only hoped whatever happened was for the best.
It didn't take long for him to give up his short, mental argument on whether or not he was going to buy a beer before he even saw Anabel or not. Leaving his towel and his flip flops behind, he wandered to the small stand he had picked out of the commotion a few minutes ago. He bought just one for the moment; there was no reason to get completely trashed yet. Tossing the cap in a garbage can, he went back to his beach towel and sat down, taking a sip of the bitter liquid and letting it burn down his throat, making a disgusted face as he did.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 3, 2009 22:04:43 GMT -5
 With the windows of her black Cobalt Coupe down and the wind rushing in against her cheeks, singing at the top of her lungs to a Katy Perry song, Anabel felt like she was sixteen again. Sixteen and at least somewhat happy, which was really about the norm for her. After age thirteen the whole blissful innocence thing had gone downhill and things hadn't really picked up until she met Jason. He had certainly made her happy during the course of their eight month long relationship, but the sour ending made this happiness an almost untouchable thought. Even with two months time she didn't really feel whole again, not compared to how she'd felt with him. At age twenty she could theoretically find love again, but she didn't really want to. No one could really compare and that wasn't fair to whoever she was with next. Even her oh so brilliant man toy idea had crashed and burned. As cliché as it was to admit it, Jason had ruined her for other men, a rather sickening but very true reality. There was absolutely no reason Jenson shouldn't have been able to satisfy her, but he hadn't and there was really no point in trying anyone else. Jason had been blow the top of her head off good between the sheets. How was she supposed to find that again? It seemed rather unlikely. Staying single at least for a good long while seemed the only solution. She had her new great dane puppy Dozer to keep her company at night (he had already proved himself rather fond of spooning) and it wasn't long before she'd be pouring herself into school again. It would work out ok.
Of course it was the impending start of classes that had her headed for the beach. She'd seen the flyer the other day on her church's bulletin board and it seemed like a nice release from everything. She knew with some certainty that Jason wouldn't be there. Getting him to go to the beach with her had been like pulling teeth with his aversion to showing his scar and there wasn't a lot Annie hadn't been able to convince him to do. There was no way he'd go on his own. It was assuring to know he wouldn't be there. She knew seeing him would upset her, though she supposed she'd have to get over it. They'd run into each other on campus too. She couldn't live the rest of her life avoiding him and she knew that, but that didn't mean she couldn't try. The thought of him in a lab coat though did send a slight shiver up her spine. She'd caught him once after one of his biology labs and the doctor look definitely suited him... What was she thinking? She should so not be lusting after her ex like this. She did not want him back after what he'd done. She didn't. He'd made it very clear how much she meant to him and there was no way they were getting back together. He'd hurt her too deeply.
Her car sped across the causeway like a black blur until traffic stopped to collect the toll for getting onto the island. She'd always loved Antelope Island since her family had moved here. It was one of the few nice things about Salt Lake City and the lake was much better than the ocean since there weren't fish or crabs or anything else really. It didn't smell especially nice, but it was a smell you got used to. Lowering the music while she paid the woman in the booth she handed over a ten with a bit of a sigh, took her change and drove a bit slower onto the little oasis in the middle of the lake. Turning the radio back up she realized the song had changed to John Mayer and she hastily smacked the off button. Your Body Is A Wonderland had been one of her and Jason's songs. She didn't really like listening to it anymore as a result.
She passed by the silver Mercedes without paying it a second of attention and turned the car into a parking space. Shifting into park she pulled the keys out of the ignition and gave herself the once over. Her shorts were rolled down once and low over her hips exposing one of her seven tattoos and with nothing but a bikini top on her belly button piercing was obvious. The rest of her tattoos were small and mostly unnoticeable, excluding the little heart on the inside of her right wrist. Rotating her arm to look at it she gave a little sigh. In the center of the pink heart was a black J. She didn't really know what she was supposed to do about the fact that she had permanently inked herself with his initial. She'd really never thought it would be a problem.
Stepping out onto the hot asphalt her black sandals smacked the pavement and she turned to reach back in to grab her polkadot beach bag and deposited her keys in it before tossing it over her shoulder. As she began to walk by the cars in the lot she carefully pulled her hair up in a messy bun and pushed her heart shaped sunglasses up her pointy nose. Behind her sunglasses she took a look around the scene that awaited her, fingering the pink strand of hair that was too short to be pulled back. Either this was a lame attempt at a party or it just hadn't heated up yet and she was rather unimpressed. She supposed she should give it a chance though. The party had only been going on for maybe thirty minutes after all.
Away from the water and the volleyball net someone had set up, Ana spread her bright blue towel over the sand, next to a vacant one. She'd probably know who it was if they were a student at the U since she knew most everyone and it would give her someone to talk to or at least someone she could leave her bag with so she could get in the water if they proved to be boring for conversation. Stretching out on her stomach along the towel she untied the string that crossed her back to avoid a tan line and dropped her forehead down onto her crossed arms, hiding her face. It was doubtful she'd actually tan, but she could dream. The warmth on her back was relaxing and a cat nap seemed like a decent way to pass the time. She had been a failure at volleyball since high school gym and though she'd love to swim she couldn't just leave her things unattended. This might be Salt Lake City, but it still had its whack jobs just like anywhere else. It had only been maybe five minutes though before the ultraviolet rays began to sting her pale, melanin-lacking skin, and with a sigh she reached back to re-tie her top. She usually didn't remember and embarrassed herself quite horribly, but this time she actually did and she mentally cheered herself for not exposing herself to the Salt Lake student population. Sitting with her back to the crowd on the beach she began to dig through her bag until she found a bottle of coconut scented sunscreen. As her hand rubbed a glob of the while lotion into her pale skin she heard someone flop onto the towel and take a noisy sip of something or another. As she spread a bit of the sunscreen over her neck and chest she realized she'd need someone to rub it into her back. Without looking to see who it was, which really was a rather stupid thing to do, she asked, "Hey, would you mind rub-" She got the last of the white protectant off her hands and turned her head over her shoulder to see who she was talking to, cutting off her words. She was a bit speechless for a long moment until she noticed what was in his hand. Her pale eyebrows slowly raised and she looked back up at him. They might not be a couple anymore but regardless they knew each other well enough that she didn't have to actually express her surprise at his beverage choice in words.
words: 1396
wearing: this
driving: this
notes: good. that made it easier to reply to.
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 4, 2009 11:14:29 GMT -5
He was actually rather glad that the party didn’t seem to be big, at least not yet. That meant there was a rather short line at all of the miscellaneous food stands through out the beach. It also meant he was less likely to run into anyone he knew and have them question him. It had been a while since he actually went out with any of his friends, preferring instead to sit in the silence of his house or go to the club. He knew from his previous break ups that he wouldn’t have taken this so hard if it wasn’t completely his fault. He probably would have sulked around for a few days, maybe went on a week long vacation by himself and then came back and tried to be happy enough to go on with a normal life. Since he hadn’t just ended the relationship, but hurt both his “girlfriend” and his best friend terribly, he took the whole thing bad.
When he went back to his towel, he noted a figure laying face down on a new towel next to him, but he didn’t look at the person long enough to realize she might even slightly resembled Ana. In fact, the only thing that brought it to his attention that this was his ex sitting beside him was her voice and as soon as he heard her say “hey,” he pressed the bottle to his lips again, suddenly knowing this was not going to be his last drink of the day. As she cut off her sentence, she seemed rather speechless and he raised a bushy eyebrow, glad the pain in his eyes was hidden by his dark sunglasses. Even though she hadn’t finished, he knew what she was going to ask and he shrugged. “Only if you want me to.” No matter how hard he tried to disguise it, the hurt in his voice was still there, clear as day to anyone who knew him half as well as Ana did.
His dark eyes scanned over her body and he swore a knife had cut through his heart. Dressed like that, well, he wasn’t going to be the only one staring. His eyes came to rest on her face and he noticed the shocked look on hers as she looked at the brown bottle in his hand then back up to his face. All he did was shrug again, not really wanting to explain. He wondered if she’d associate his stupidity, her leaving and the bottle in his hand or if she’d figure out he started the night she had left his house and that nearly every night for the past two months he’d been completely wasted, just trying to get her face out of his mind.
Raising the bottle to his lips again, he wrinkled his nose as the unpleasant liquid stung his throat. His gaze rested on the lake, not quite sure what to do. He had only just arrived, he didn’t really want to leave yet and even though he had only just started his beer, he knew he wasn’t going to risk driving. He had never been one to drink, let alone drink and drive, for most of his life; he always thought it was stupid and reckless and the wreck only strengthened that belief. He wasn’t going to put someone else through what he had been through. Sure, he could always take a bus or a cab, which was what he planned to do later, but after only being here for maybe ten minutes, he wanted to stay at least a little bit longer. However much he hated to admit it, this is why he showed up, he wanted to see her, to talk to her, even if the end result was him drinking until he forgot what was going on.
After a moment, he wiggled the bottle in the sand to keep it upright and leaned back, propping himself up on his right arm to look at her, his left arm resting against his stomach. Sighing, he dropped his eyes to the sand in between their towels and reached to his bottle, wincing slightly as he closed his fingers around it. Even two months after he broke his wrist, it still hurt at times. Not terribly, but bad enough to make him stop whatever it was he was doing for a moment. He knew if he had gotten it looked at or probably even bought the brace right after he broke it, it would have healed a lot better and most likely wouldn’t bother him as it did.
Taking a deep breath, he looked at her face again, realizing his memory hadn’t done her justice. “So…” he started out slowly, not quite sure why he had wanted to talk to her again; it hurt terribly. He still felt awful about what he did to her and Dahlia both. “How-how’ve you been?” he asked quietly, taking a long drink from his bottle when he finished. It was terrible, stinging his tongue and his throat, but he knew once he got far enough in, he’d start to feel at least a little bit better. Swirling the liquid around in the bottle, he realized it was already over halfway gone. He wondered what she’d do when he got up to get another. Of course, that set off a whole array of questions in his mind, one of which he was dying to know the answer to; did she miss him as much as he missed her?
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 4, 2009 18:14:41 GMT -5
Anabel's nose wrinkled a bit at the wafting smell of the liquor, never having much of a taste for beer. She'd always figured if she wanted to get drunk she could just down a bottle of red wine or at least take shots. They might sting like fire was running down the back of her throat but at least she was slurring her speech after only one or two of them. That was one of the good things about being as small as she was or one of the worst, however you wanted to look at it; it didn't take a lot to get her stone drunk. Raising her eyebrow she wondered just how much tolerance he even had for the stuff or if he'd be doing the Macarena in another five minutes. She sort of suspected he was a bit too fun when he was drunk, considering his already goofball personality, but that didn't mean a lot. For all she knew he was a completely boring drunk. He'd never drank around her until now so there was no way to know if she'd be better to run into the forest behind them or stick around for the show.
With a little breathy sigh she took her attention off his drinking and gently tossed the bottle of sunscreen to him with a shrug. "You might as well," she told him when he said he'd only do it if she still wanted him to. He had after all touched every last inch of her with those long, slim fingers so it couldn't be that bad could it. She remembered with a bit of a pang the time she'd forgotten sunscreen and after a day in the pool at his house she'd been the shade of a clown's nose. He'd told her he thought she made an adorable lobster and taken her mind off her smarting skin by kissing every tan line. There was so much between them and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to stay here with the constant reminders, good or bad. Yet at the same time she felt that pull to just stay there and not stomp off. Granted the said urge might have had something to do with the dark hairs that curled against his chest and were exposed by the low scoop of his tee shirt, but that was beside the point. Her fondness for chest hair aside the ire that had seemed to fill her entire being before was not there. She didn't feel like being in his presence was going to lead her to set something on fire or cut off any appendages he was especially fond of. Why she didn't really know because she still hurt quite terribly, but she supposed she had accepted what had happened between them, at least as much as she could right now. The shock, the denial, the anger, it had all passed she realized as she sat there next to him. Which was not to say she thought they should get back together or anything, but closure would be nice. It could be good for both of them.
Taking her eyes off of him she undid the string that was keeping the bikini on, careful not to come out of the striped top. The last thing she needed was to flash her ex, never mind anyone else that happened to look in their direction. She could only imagine what was going to come of the two of them actually socializing, even in their own very awkward and stilted manner. There were a lot of people here that they went to school with after all, and quite a few of them liked to wag their tongues. Oh well, who really cared. Ana was so over gossiping now that she was the topic of conversation. She'd heard some of the things that were being said, namely that she was an evil she-wolf that had dumped Jason for a varying number of reasons none of which were anywhere close to the truth. Though Jason's reputation wasn't exactly clean, somehow it was her that ended up taking the brunt of the comments and it sort of stung. No one could possibly understand the whole complexity of her hurt really because none of them knew that it was the exact same thing her dad had done to her mother. Even Jason couldn't completely get it because she'd only told him vaguely that her dad had cheated and that they didn't really talk anymore. She knew it was wrong to bring the past into the present, but it seemed unavoidable. Fact was for all the money her mother had paid the shrink she still hadn't come to terms with the first pain, and she didn't think she could get over the second. She was only human.
As his hands, one warm and the other cold from the icy beer bottle ran over her back she tensed as she'd expected she would, but it was not because his touch was unwelcome, quite the opposite actually and she hated herself for it. Why didn't she have it in her power to stay vengeful and mad at him? Some scorned ex she made. She wished she knew though if the quiet, hurt tone to his voice was real or some sort of ploy. She still questioned his actions, a thought that had been put into her mind the last night they had seen each other. Jason had always been the only real guy she knew until around the moment she saw the zipper on Dahlia's jeans slide down. It had made her question everything about him, including just how good he was at acting the part. Hadn't he told her he thought sex was about love? He couldn't possibly really believe that, not after what he'd done with Dahlia. Unless of course when he said 'I love you' he hadn't necessarily meant she had his whole heart, and there was certainly no way Annie was becoming one of those compound freaks.
She didn't notice immediately that he'd stopped rubbing the lotion in and when she did she realized she hadn't wanted him to stop. A sigh she prayed he did not associate with the fact he was no longer touching her escaped her and she retied her top and turned a bit on the towel to take the bottle back. It was sort of a relief they both had sunglasses on; she didn't want to see his eyes and she didn't want him to see hers. Squirting a generous glob into her hand she pulled her leg out of the Indian pose, rubbing the oily stuff up and down first the right, then the left. She was completely oblivious to the fact that Jason's eyes were running all over her body. She knew her clothes weren't exactly the most modest thing in the world, but this was a beach after all and Utah in July. She was not about to be running around in jeans and a button-up shirt. And anyway, she hadn't thought she'd be running into anyone that had seen her naked before and could fill in what was covered up by memory. It gave her that nervous almost butterfly feeling when she realized he could, and the feeling only intensified when she realized she could do the exact same thing where he was concerned.
As she pushed the cap back on the bottle she glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw his nose wrinkle as he took a sip of his beer. She had to admit she was really rather perplexed by his behavior. Wasn't this the same man that had jeopardized his chance of winning favor with her mother by turning down a glass of watered-down wine? "Do you need any," she asked him, figuring it was only polite to check even though he was as dark skinned as he was and rather unlikely to experience a sun burn. She responded to his response in respect to the sunscreen and then stretched out on her back, her naval piercing glistening in the sunlight. Turning her head sideways she watched him take another sip of his drink and finally she couldn't stop herself from commenting. "Why do you keep drinking that if you don't like it," she asked him, sounding almost annoyed, but as soon as it was out she remembered her own attempt to drown her sorrows. She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes on his finely chiseled face, her expression unreadable. She shook her head a bit dismissively and stared up at the sky, pretending that the sparse fluffy clouds were the most interesting thing in the world.
She resisted the temptation to look as he stretched out on his side beside her, giving in just in time to see the pain of picking up the bottle cross his features and pause his movement. She'd tried to get him to go have the wrist looked at when he'd first broken it, even swallowing her pride and offering to drive, but he'd refused. "You never got that looked at," she asked, sounding somewhere between alarmed and concerned. She never would have wished the pain of such an injury on him, never mind an injury that hadn't been treated. "Couldn't you have injured ligaments or something? I mean I know you're the genius when it comes to injuries..." with a teasing half smile, it was the first show of any remaining affection toward him she'd shown in the time they'd been here together. With the realization she was borderline flirting she averted her eyes from him and sat up a bit abruptly, wrapping her arms around her middle and crossing her legs back Indian style. Why was it he threw everything off by just being there? She wanted so badly to hold on to her anger, but it was slipping away from her.
She stared at the natural phenomenon before her for what felt like a long time, slowly unwrapping her arms from her stomach and lifting the leg farthest from him to rest her chin on. Her head turned and she dropped the side of her head against her knee at his hesitant 'so' her eyes finally taking him in from this angle. Fine, she'd let herself want him, after all you could want someone without giving a flip more about them. There was nothing wrong with that... exactly. Plenty of other girls surely wanted him after all... though she was one of the only to actually know what it was like to have that body above hers and completely devoted to showing her what making love was all about. She shivered a bit, really hating the intense desire that just being around him without having been in so long fueled. It made her wonder whether she was just some sort of lonely wanton horndog all of the sudden or if behind those dark lenses his eyes were just as darkened with libidinous want.
She snapped out of her disturbing thoughts and looked away from him when he asked her how she'd been, sliding the shades up onto the top of her head. She shrugged her shoulders and let out a sigh. Lonely? Hurt? Confused? All seemed to fit and she could probably toss out plenty of other adjectives that would work, but expressing weakness was not the sort of thing Ana did. She pursed her lips and then shrugged again, "Uh... you know," she turned her face back finally, leaving her eyes exposed, "Hanging in there, I guess." She dropped her eyes down again almost instantly and shrugged again out of habit. Running a hand through the hair that was still in its bun, the side that wasn't pink, she glanced back up. "You," she asked hesitantly, not quite meeting his eye. She was afraid of the answer and would have avoided the question altogether if he had never asked her, but now that it was out there she held her breath. She didn't want to hear that he'd been boinking everything in sight or that he was ok, which she knew was terrible ans selfish, but for some reason she didn't want to hear that their break-up hadn't affected him in the slightest.
words: 2048
wearing: this
notes: heh, don't worry about matching that.
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 4, 2009 21:21:45 GMT -5
He let the bottle of sunscreen fall into his lap, not bothering to try to catch it as she tossed it to him. Sighing quietly, he squeezed some of the protectant into his hands, warming it up before rubbing it into his back; he hated the feeling of cold sunscreen on his bareback, not that it ever needed it anymore. His heart seemed to skip a beat as she untied her top and he bit his bottom lip, feeling the hurt that panged within him as she did. He hesitated briefly before his hands touched her back, bringing back memories he’d be incredibly fond of if they didn’t hurt as bad as they did. A shiver ran up his spine as he felt her skin beneath his hands again and he could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes. As he rubbed the suntan lotion in her back, he blinked furiously, pushing the tears back into his eyes. He was glad he hadn’t forgotten his sunglasses, that was for sure.
Handing Ana back her bottle of sunscreen, he was careful to not let his fingers touch hers. It had cut him deep enough to rub the white stuff on her back, though he wasn’t going to let her burn. He knew from experience how easy it was for her to burn and the same memory she had been thinking of invaded his mind. She had made a very cute lobster, that was certain, and her reddened skin had been so warm underneath of his touch, it had only added to the intensity of the moment. He could almost remember where every tan line of hers had been and he sighed almost at the same moment she did and, because of that, he hadn’t realized that she had, too.
His eyes watched her rub the lotion over her legs and he could remember what it felt like when his hands had been sliding down her legs, though for a completely different reason. He turned his face away quickly and brought the bottle up to his mouth again, taking two long gulps, the flavor burning down his throat as he swallowed it. “Hmm…?” he said, her words bringing him back from the thoughts he was lost in. Before she could repeat herself, he realized what she said and shook his head. “Oh, uh, no, that’s okay. Thanks.” It was a rare thing for him to get a sunburn, but even if he did, the stinging wouldn’t really bother him.
Twisting the bottle uneasily, he kept his gaze on it, finally taking a short sip of it to ease his slight discomfort, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he did. Burying the bottle in the sand so it wouldn’t tip over, he looked up at her question and simply shrugged, not quite sure how to answer it. “Oh, just trying to forget everything I did to you. Both good and bad.” Yeah, that’d be the thing to say, so he just left his shrug as his answer, his dark eyes looking at her sunglasses. He couldn’t quite tell what she was looking at, though it seemed pretty clear she was watching him, though her expression was blank, unreadable. She had always been good at disguising her emotions; something he hadn’t been fantastic at. Everything he ever said he had meant and even if he did lie, his eyes would give away the truth. Though he could see how that would be unbelievable to her now. Even after she turned to watch the sky, his eyes never left her and he swore he could feel his heart breaking a little bit every time he took a breath.
To ease his pain, he reached towards the partially buried bottle, unable to hide his brief pain as he did so. A small smile curled the corners of his lips upward and a short ‘hah’ slipped from him as he shook his head in response to her comment. “Nope,” he said bluntly. Why? Well, he just hadn’t bothered. Even though it hurt like hell for quite some time, he had never found it necessary to get it checked out. About a month ago he did cave in and buy a brace for it, which helped so much, but he didn’t really want to get it coated in sand, so he had left it at his house for the day. He knew that if he did go get it looked at now, it was definitely partially healed and the way it ached, it wasn’t healed right, so his options were most likely going to be let it hurt or get surgery…again. Before his career as a pediatrician actually started, he’d probably get it fixed so he could do his job at his full potential, but until then, he’d suffer. He laughed a short, quiet laugh when she asked about ligaments and such. “It works. That’s what matters, right?” Her teasing tone made him raise his eyebrows ever so slightly, not quite sure what to make of it. Laughing again, still not his former warm laugh, but the closest it had been to it in quite some time, he shook his head, his curls flopping around as he did. “We all know how I am, I should be use to it by now.”
He watched her as she turned to look at the Great Salt Lake, the silence that they had relapsed into making him wonder again why he was here. His eyes traced the contours of her body, once again glad he had his sunglasses on as he remembered what it felt like to trace his fingers, his lips over her. Though his eyes were still hidden, he closed them, feeling her body underneath of his. It was a wonderful, terrible thing to remember. He wondered how many other guys had craved her touch but never got to experience it and how many guys she had seen since their break up. He knew she had been much looser in her sexual relationships than he had been in the past and he couldn’t help but wonder if she went back to those ways. He had never brought himself to try a one night stand, though he had gone dancing with a few ladies at the club who certainly wanted to. He just felt like it was completely wrong and he couldn’t do it; it was kind of like drinking, a disgusting, addictive habit.
Bringing himself to break the awkward silence, he watched her slide the sunglasses up her face and he took in her bright blue eyes for the first time in what felt like forever. Even from the side he could see the intense blue, his heart skipping a beat. A slightly amused look crossed his face as she shrugged. That’s all either one of them seemed to do when they got to an awkward topic. The smile didn’t last long as she turned her face to look at him, his eyes looking into hers. If she had been able to see his eyes, she’d be able to see the longing in them, how much it was that he missed her, but he kept them securely hidden behind his dark sunglasses. He was afraid to see her reaction when she saw what he was feeling.
It was his turn to look away again when she turned the conversation to him and like her, he shrugged. There were so many words he could use to describe his life since then, most of them meaning something like miserable or guilty, but he chose the vaguest one to use. “Alive,” he replied in one word, finally sliding his sunglasses off of his face and setting them on the corner of his towel, his eyes still on the lake for a moment before turning to look at Annie’s, his eyes directly meeting hers for the first time in about two months.
It only took another moment for him to look away, finding the little mini-bar where he had got the beer before and sat up all the way before slowly standing to his feet. “I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.” Heading towards the stand, he pulled his wallet from his deep pockets in his swim trunks, slightly annoyed that more people had started to show up and the line was a little bit longer now. It took a few minutes to get up there and when he did, he handed the worker his driver’s license and enough money for two bottles this time before turning back to the towels, half expecting Ana to take that break and split for the other side of the beach. Cracking open one of the bottles, he tossed the cap in the garbage and turned around, surprised to see she was still there with all of her stuff. A tiny smile crossed his face before he took a long drink from the cool bottle, asking himself why he cared so much, all he was doing was hurting himself.
When he got back to the towels, he laid back down, facing her again and burying the newly opened bottle half way in the sand again. It was a fairly effective cup holder. A small smirk crossed his face as he slid the other bottle under his towel, out of the sun’s hot rays. “Not that I’d ever buy you a drink since it’s so disgusting, but you still have a year before I would,” he teased slightly, a slight spark back in his eyes. That hadn’t been there since she told him they needed to take a break, even longer than their actual two month break up. It was amazing what she did to him. As soon as he realized what he was letting himself do, though, he grabbed the bottle from the sand, watching the sand fall into the pit where the bottle had been and gulped down a few long drinks, sighing as he set it back down.
Gazing out towards the lake again, he watched the people out there having fun and not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t needed surgery so he was comfortable enough being out in public without a shirt on. He turned his exposed eyes back to Ana and smiled slightly. “If you want to go swimming, go ahead. I’ll watch your stuff,” he offered. Of all people, she would know that he wasn’t willing to take his shirt off with other people around. “If I leave this spot, I’ll be right over there.” He gestured to the beer stand, watching her for her reaction; he wasn’t quite sure what to expect.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 5, 2009 16:20:46 GMT -5
Hearing his laugh again was nice, comforting even. No, it was not the same as she remembered. It was weaker, not as warm or as deep, but compared to no laugh at all it sounded wonderful. She had missed hearing that sound when she bumped her head or something funny was said on the tv. She wanted to cry now that it met her ears. Even so as she watched him toss back big gulps of his beer she almost wished she hadn't ran into him today. Oh no, she didn't exactly want to see him unscathed by their relationship, but seeing him self-destruct and turn against everything he'd always believed for whatever reason by no means gave her a triumphant feeling. Actually she found herself sick to her stomach as she watched his Adam's apple bob with every big gulp. She knew if it wasn't for her he wouldn't be doing this. Maybe if they'd never met they'd both be a lot happier. She could be casually dating still, oblivious to love, a feeling she had come to hate, and he would have probably gone back to his ex before her and they'd be doing whatever they'd been doing before their break-up. Maybe the ring he'd bought for her, the ring she'd placed back in his hand and refused to take, would be on her finger. Jason would be happy, and she would be, well, she'd be ok. She wasn't really sure it was so true to say it was better to have loved and lost. Whoever had said that certainly couldn't have really loved, not the way she had, no, did love Jason at any rate. She knew she still loved him, she had no doubt about it. Oh she had been angry for a while, but every bit of her shattered heart had still loved him even when she hadn't wanted it to and when it came down to it she knew her life was empty without him. She didn't know what to do about that now though. Even if she found it in her to forgive him, really truly let it go, she couldn't deal with him drinking like that. He had a problem if he was drinking this early in the day, no doubt about it.
As she turned her dead but still brilliantly blue eyes onto him she saw a smile drop from his face. She was still hiding everything, for some reason terrified for him to know how incomplete she felt without him. Giving him that, it couldn't possibly be wise. As Jason looked away from her she kept her eyes on his face until he uttered a simple five letter word. Why did that simple adjective hurt her like it did? It shocked her as he pulled the lenses from his eyes, knowing he didn't have her ability to keep everything hidden and she felt her entire being the entire world even stand still when those dark eyes met hers. It sent a knife right through her to look him in the eye and she felt her facade slip away, letting her eyes show her loneliness and the dead feeling that had overtaken her show. For once she wasn't afraid to show her weakness as she realized the same things that had been tearing her apart, the hurt, the loneliness, they were in his eyes too. She felt tears well in her eyes and she looked away as he did, blinking rapidly. "I suppose that's better than the alternative," she spoke quietly, not taking her eyes off the teal of her towel. She just nodded, not looking back up when he said he'd be right back. She knew where he was going, but there was no point in running after him and trying to stop him. That would accomplish nothing. Instead she just shut her eyes as he walked away and wiped away her tears. She was filled with the overwhelming awareness that she had hurt him just as badly as he had hurt her.
The thought to just up and leave in his absence passed through her mind and she nearly did snatch her things and leave before her heart took another pulverizing, but she couldn't do it. If she had thought she was confused before she was a whole new level of confused now. She turned a bit and dropped onto her stomach, resting her head on her arms. She stared blankly at a tree, wishing she had the answers. His drinking scared her, she wouldn't lie. No, he wouldn't tell her why he was doing, but assuming she wasn't being a complete narcissist she had a pretty good idea why he did it, and she didn't exactly think it was a new thing. Running a hand down over her face she let out a heavy sigh and prayed a silent prayer that she'd know what to do even though she wasn't sure she could do much of anything. When he reappeared, one open bottle and another she supposed was for later in his hand, her nose crinkled as she stared up at him rolling onto her back as he teased her with a smirk. Even if the topic at hand was not one she really wanted to joke about, it felt really nice to have him tease her like that. A little smile crossed her lips as she realized his eyes didn't look so dead all of the sudden and she had a suspicion her own had a slight bit of life in them. She slowly drew her lips back a bit more, flashing her slightly crooked but perfectly white teeth, "Well, I'd rather not have to see you behind plate glass, so that's probably for the better," she teased right back, knowing the penalty if he was caught would be a year behind bars. She glanced him up and down, "But I suppose orange does suit you," she told him with a little laugh, an unbidden adoring look in her eyes when she looked back at his face. She looked away quickly and stared down at her mostly bare torso instead of letting it linger, her cheeks reddening. It came so impeccably natural to joke with him like that, because for at least that tiny moment when they were laughing it felt like nothing had ever changed. But then they turned back into themselves, her to her thoughts and him to his beer and it was all over.
She slowly turned her eyes back his direction to watch the beer in his bottle disappear. She'd stopped drinking after her little one night stand deciding it just wasn't worth it anymore. As soon as she'd gotten back to her apartment and cried her shame away she'd taken a pair of scissors to the flimsy piece of plastic that had allowed her to have access to the stuff for so long. It was only a matter of months before she got the real thing, but even then she didn't want to go back to it. Maybe the occasional glass of wine or champagne, but nothing more, and certainly not on a regular basis. It wouldn't be much of a switch anyway, aside from the Sangria she'd had when Jason met her mother and getting completely trashed however long ago that was she hadn't drank since she'd met him. He had been against it and thought smoking was a nasty habit. She'd dropped both quite quickly. He'd made her a better person but she'd just dragged him down. It was a rather disconcerting thought that she was relieved to be drawn from by his words. She blinked once, having to replay his words in her mind, but before she could say anything he spoke again and she swallowed, staring at him for a long time with a strange look, a mixture of concern, aggravation, disappointment, and just plain disgust, on her face. "Jason," she whispered, saying his name for the first time after months of it being taboo, her eyes boring into his with an intense stare, "It doesn't work if you haven't figured it out yet. And eventually you're just going to do something you regret."
words: 1366
wearing: this
notes: *sigh* It doesn't really get anywhere. Sorry about that. =[
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 5, 2009 17:46:04 GMT -5
It was sort of funny, even though he was hurting as bad as he was, those eight months had been the happiest of his life. He wouldn’t trade them for anything, even an end to his hurting. That was easy enough to get rid of; if he constantly had some sort of strong liquor in his body, he’d never hurt like he was. Four years of pre-med school had taught him how terrible that was for the body, though. Then again, it had also taught him how bad binge drinking was and that tended to be all he did. Oh, the first few times he had been careful, but after that it had only gone downhill. More alcohol each time until he finally turned to something stronger than wine or beer. Somehow, he hadn’t wound up in the hospital…yet. If he didn’t let up soon, it was only a matter of time.
As he slid his glasses from his face, he wondered if he was making a huge mistake by letting her see everything he felt. He could try to hide, but he was terrible at it. Somehow his dark eyes always showed every emotion he was feeling, even when he tried as hard as he could to disguise it. Even when he was trashed, everything was still there. Looking into her eyes, he was surprised to see even she seemed to let her guard down and it was like her eyes mirrored his. It cut him even deeper when he realized how bad he had hurt her. He had known her father cheated on her mom and in her eyes, what he had done was no different and of course that wasn’t exactly the easiest way to end their relationship, but the way her eyes matched the same feelings he felt, well, he’d do anything to take that away from her.
Pulling his gaze away from her, he shrugged when she suggested being alive was better than being dead. “Maybe,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. He doubted she even heard him, with his tone so quiet and his face turned away from her. There were times, brief times, but a few times nonetheless he had wondered if it would be better for them if he was dead. If he had been killed in the wreck, yes, Ana and Dahlia would have been hurt, but not in the way he had hurt them. He and Annie wouldn’t have been together nearly as long, so she would have been able to move on and maybe Dahlia wouldn’t have been so hung up on him and found someone who she could love and who would actually love her back. His parents hadn’t seen him in a few years and, sure, losing a son would be terrible, but they still had one who was much younger and Dylan was young enough, he could grow up without it being a huge part of his life.
As she drew her lips back to smile a little bit more, he could feel his heart flutter and again he turned to the bottle in his hand. It was sort of like a form of punishment; anytime any sort of emotion for her showed itself in some way, he’d take a long drink of it and let it burn his mouth like after a while his feelings would just stop. A smirk appeared on his face as she mentioned the jail cell. “Yeah, but I couldn’t hurt myself there,” he teased back. “You know, with my arms chained together and an iron ball on my ankle I’d be lucky to be able to move let alone break anything.” A soft smile crossed his face when she said orange did suit him and he glanced down his body, laughing again. “I guess I did good today, then.”
However much he wanted to, he couldn’t look away from her intense stare as she spoke the honest truth he knew all too well. His eyes closed for a moment, a tiny, slightly amused smiled on his face when she said he was only going to do something he’d regret. He turned his body away from hers, his gaze locked on the lake. Shaking his head sadly, he sighed. “I already have. And the alcohol had nothing to do with it.” He figured she’d take that as he’d gone out and slept with some random girl. No, he meant almost sleeping with his ex. There was nothing he regretted more; if he hadn’t done that, neither one of them would be hurting like this. Maybe by now she’d be back in his house and the ring that was still on the floor where it had slid from his hand would be on her hand instead of the middle of his family room. Shrugging, he finished the bottle of beer and set it aside, avoiding her eyes as he did.
The heat from the sun was really starting to bother him and he sighed, hating his side once again as he could feel his sweat slowly start to soak into his t-shirt. Then again, if he wasn’t standing up and he laid sort of on his side and his stomach, he could hide the two long lines. Usually when he lay on his stomach, he was keeping his weight off of that side, just out of habit now, but if he just switched the side he was on, he and Ana would be the only two who knew they were there. And he’d still be facing Annie. Groaning inwardly, he knew he was going to regret doing this, but he rolled onto his stomach and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, quickly sliding it off over his head and shifting his weight as he had planned, glancing down to see, well, not see, either one of his scars and he breathed a sigh of relief. Crumpling his shirt in a ball, he looked over at Ana and smiled a small, half smile. “Now I just can’t move,” he teased slightly, knowing she’d be sort of surprised, but he couldn’t take any more of the sun with his shirt on. Luckily he didn’t have much of a farmer’s tan since he hadn’t spent much time in the sun this summer, and when he had it had been in his own backyard where he was okay with walking around shirtless as long as he didn’t have company. Shaking his head, he cracked open his third beer, gulping a few long drinks down as he did. The cool liquid, however bitter it tasted, was refreshing from the heat of the sun.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 7, 2009 14:09:48 GMT -5
Anabel never would have wished Jason dead. It would have prevented her the pain of his infidelity, but if he was gone completely off this earth it would have been worse. She would have missed out on a lot if he'd been killed in the accident. She still wouldn't know what it was like to be told by a man she was loved. She never would have had the experience of actually living with him and everything that entailed from sharing a bed on a regular basis to walking in on the unpleasant sight of him flossing his teeth. She wouldn't know what it was like to sleep with someone she loved and the wonderful experience that it was. She certainly wouldn't know what it was like to fight and slam doors and by the end of the day, with the exception of their very last fight, have his arms back around her and his lips in her hair. And though it was a bit sad to think of the memory more than any other, she knew the joy of planning the rest of her life with someone, from trying on rings to arguing about the merits of the name Juan for their first born son. And at least now he still had the chance to find another her, someone with the maturity to not let him go no matter how tough things got and without the pain of the past to inhibit her now. She had made a lot of mistakes she wished she could do over but of course that was an impossible thing to change.
A laugh escaped her when he said he couldn't hurt himself in jail and she shook her head, "Oh I have faith that you could. They'd probably release you early just so they didn't have to pay for all the doctor's visits." She had once joked that she needed to change her classes and become a doctor like him just so they could afford for him to be such a klutz by letting her set all his bones and take care of his surgery. Really Annie couldn't picture herself as a doctor, but it had seemed like it would save them quite a bit of money in the long run. At least he'd be meeting plenty of other med students next year. She was sure there would be quite a few that were pretty and smarter than her for that matter. Assuming he stopped the drinking he was still a catch, a catch she never should have released, though she wasn't sure how many women wanted to be a man's third love. Being second had never bothered her because he had been so young and it wasn't like he had ever compared her to the woman before her. He had loved her for what she was and she'd always appreciated that. He could do it again she was sure, or had been until today. He had a bigger heart than anyone she knew, but now she was a bit fearful that that heart was exactly like hers; unwilling to let go.
She watched his eyes slowly shut, and a look cross his face that seemed bitter and a bit ironic before he turned away. Anabel let out a little sigh when he said he'd already done something he regretted, not for a moment misinterpreting him. She instead was the one that thought she could go back to what she had been only to find out she was someone else now. She would give anything to have a do over of that mistake. She had never felt more ashamed or more worthless in her entire life after that and it had only compacted over the already terrible feeling she'd had inside. She'd given herself away for years, but that was definitely not her anymore and she knew that now. She hated who that person was and she didn't want to go back. Reaching behind her head to pull the clip that was poking the back of her head out she stared at the back of his head, "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter which way you go. It still hurts." Setting the clip aside she shook her head, letting the long strands loose and combing her fingers through it, catching on a knot that she tugged at until it let loose. She was distracting herself, but it wasn't exactly working. As the knot finally let loose she saw the second bottle of alcohol drop to the sand.
The sun felt wonderful as far as Annie was concerned, at least now that she wasn't sizzling in its rays. She loved the feel of the heat like nothing else and with the lack of humidity she wasn't really sweating. That was one of the nice things about the desert she supposed, compared to someplace like Louisiana where it was hot and humid all at the same time. She didn't have a lot on though and she could see sweat soaking into his t-shirt. She never expected him to actually pull it off though and her eyes widened all the way as he carefully rolled, hiding the lines beneath his body, checking to make sure they couldn't be seen. A little smile lit her face when he said he couldn't move and she shrugged, "They really aren't that bad you know." If anybody was ok with the marks it was her. When he was paying her no mind she let her eyes drop from his face and track down his neck to his chest and over his stomach to the waistband of his swim trunks, admiring what had been hers. He certainly hadn't developed the infamous beer belly yet, that was for sure. She let out a little sigh and glanced away as he put down his beer before he could catch her staring, her cheeks reddening.
As he set the bottle down her eyes narrowed a bit as they always did when she was intrigued. She still couldn't get over the fact that he'd picked up drinking and she'd dropped it. Pushing her body up a bit and resting her head in her hand she couldn't check her curiosity any longer and she laughed a bit, realizing she was about to figure out something she'd always wanted to know. "So," she asked him, flicking her eyes to the bottle and then back to him, "How much of that stuff can you handle? I mean you're not going to hop up and start line dancing or anything, right," she teased him with a laugh, trying to imagine him doing something so humorous. She looked off into the distance for a moment, seemingly pensive, before she rolled back onto her back, "I've always wondered what you were like when you drank. Didn't figure I'd ever see it though," she mumbled to herself, staring up at the sky. She shrugged a bit and shook her head, not supposing he'd say anything to that. She didn't really want him to actually.
Something dawned on her after a moment and she looked over at him, "Hey, did Dylan ever come stay with you?" Of course the original plan had been that the eight-year old was supposed to stay with them, but obviously that didn't work at this point. Annie had actually been looking forward to it, mainly because Jason had been psyched and she'd wanted to meet his famous little brother. She'd all but forgotten until now about the boy coming to Salt Lake. They'd had plans and everything for what they were going to do, things Annie had always wanted to, like going to the zoo, but she didn't guess at this point she'd ever be meeting any of his family. There was no way they'd want to meet the girl that had broken his heart the same way she knew her mother had written off Jason. Not for the first time she sighed, not sure why the entire future she'd had planned had to be tossed out the window. Frankly, it kind of sucked.
words: 1345
wearing: this
notes: he so needs to go get his whiskey. annie has some very... annieish things to say about it, haha. and he needs to get trashed already. xD
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 7, 2009 15:56:32 GMT -5
He shrugged, looking back towards the lake when she said his scars weren’t bad. He was just uncomfortable with them, no matter how bad – or not – they were. Yes, he knew they had faded and healed rather nicely, but he still knew they were there. Just the possibility of anyone’s eyes lingering a little bit longer on his side or a quiet question kept him from being totally comfortable. Jason had always been somewhat self conscious, always concerned that he looked good, whether it was the way he dressed or his hairstyle. It was just the way he was, the way he always had been. Sure, he had a bunch of scars all over his body from stitches or something, but hardly any of them reached an inch in length. The ones along his side were definitely noticeable since they basically went from the top of his ribcage to the bottom.
He watched her eyes narrow and sighed, his gaze yet again dropping away from her. It was only a matter of willpower until he went to his car and got the large bottle from the back. Now Ana’s reaction to that might be funny. His dark eyes finally looked back to hers as she started off with a ‘so’, watching them flicker from his bottle back to his eyes, a slight laugh escaping him at her words. He shrugged, his eyes studying the bottle again. “I dunno. This stuff’s actually pretty mild.” He said honestly, figuring he might as well tell her. Laughing, he shrugged again. He was actually a rather boring drunk, at least as much as he could remember. The more alcohol he had, the more of the memories he tried to drown would come back to haunt him and the more depressed he’d become. Of course, with a persuading tone, he could sort of forget them when he went to dance with one of the bar’s drunken whores. Perhaps if he was just drinking to drink he’d be a little bit more fun. “No, no line dancing. I mean, I’m just kind of…boring, at least right now.” He had heard what she had said about never expecting to see him drunk, so he had done the same thing, mumbling to himself at the end.
“Oh, uh, no,” he said, finishing off the third bottle and setting it in the sand next to the other two. Just like his friends, he had sort of stopped keeping in contact with his family over the last two months. Besides, Dylan wouldn’t be coming to stay for quite a while, at least until he was sure he was done drinking. His eight year old brother didn’t need to see that. And with school starting in a short while, it’d have to be over one of the breaks. Christmas break would be nice, but maybe instead he’d fly out and see his family back home. A soft sigh slipped from him as he suddenly realized how much he missed his parents and his baby brother. Why was it that he had packed up and left New York but not Salt Lake? Oh, that’s right. He actually had a house instead of just an apartment and he’d have to find a place to keep everything that was in there before he sold the house. His friends had been renting his old apartment with him, so his stuff had stayed there or at his parents’ for quite some time until he settled down.
Jason sighed a long sigh and rolled all the way onto his stomach, groaning in an unamused way and stood, looking down at his ex for a brief moment, a crooked, awkward grin on his face. His willpower was gone. It took a moment for it to dawn on him his shirt was still off and he grabbed the crumpled, orange ball and tossed it on over his head quickly. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at Ana again and attempted another smile. “I’ll be back. Again.” He picked up his three empty bottles to throw away while he was gone, not the kind to leave things laying around. He headed away from the stand and back to the parking lot, the little bit of self-hatred he always felt before he started to really drink starting to hit him. Reaching his car, he unlocked it and reached in the back, grabbing the tall bottle and cracking it open. He sat in the back seat for a moment, taking a few, long drinks and letting it burn down his throat, a disgusted look on his face as he did.
Why did things always have to turn out so wrong? he wondered as he walked back to the towels. For the longest time, he had believed everything happened for a reason, but now he just thought Salt Lake was trying to kill him. The wreck hadn’t succeeded, so he fell down his stairs. Falling down the steps had only broken his wrist, so he started drinking. Well, so far that hadn’t killed him, so he was wondering what was next.
Shaking his head, he could see Ana again and he walked quietly, still not quite sure what he reaction to this bottle would be. He had never actually drank it straight from the bottle before, but what else was he suppose to do here? It would just look silly if he brought along a little glass to go with it. Then again, he was sure there would be plenty of rumors flying about him drinking anyways. There had only been a few people he went to school with who had seen him drink before and most of them had only been faces he recognized.
Jason bit his bottom lip as he stretched out on his beach towel, his eyes not quite meeting Annie’s. “So,” he started, not quite sure what to say anymore. His eyes drifted to his bottle, slightly surprising him when he realized there was already a significant amount missing just from his walk from the car to the towel. He took another drink before he started to fidget with his towel, feeling rather uncomfortable about drinking around her. “Are, uh. Are you still staying with your mom?” Though he was pretty sure she wasn’t staying with another guy, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer to that and the bottle made its way to his lips without him really realizing it. That was the problem with this stuff; he could drink without realizing how much he was drinking. And whiskey really got him trashed. It wouldn’t be long now before he was completely gone.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 8, 2009 21:06:30 GMT -5
A little smile crossed Annie's face when Jason said he was a boring drunk and she sat up a bit more. "Really," she asked with a laugh, a bit perplexed, "Man, I always hoped you'd be... I don't know what I was expecting, actually." She shook her head a bit and flopped back down in the sand, nibbling her lip a bit. He had seen her with a buzz once before, though never actually drunk, but it wasn't really something she felt like mentioning. She had been all over him once the wine had really kicked in, which had been fine because they had had no plans for the rest of the day and he certainly hadn't seemed to mind. She was the same with a little more than just table wine in her, just funner, or so she had been told, but that was the very reason she'd cut up the stupid fake id. Without a boyfriend to sleep with she'd just find someone else that was willing and she didn't want to do that anymore. She was officially done with hooking up and she wasn't going to lie when she said she regretted all the times she'd given herself away. She'd always laughed at those people that waited until marriage and all that, but looking back she almost wished she could have at least waited until she was in love with someone. All the others just seemed pointless and stupid now.
Her lips pursed a bit when he said that Dylan had never come. There was kind of a question in that question beyond whether or not his brother had come to Utah. He was supposed to have come a week and a half after their break-up, which was plenty enough time for Jason to pull himself together if he had wanted to. Clearly though he had not and Annie was pretty certain it hadn't been because he'd been sitting around crying, at least not without something to drink in his hand. At least it seemed that way to Ana. She couldn't think of any reason why he'd turn down the visit of one of his favorite people just because he was depressed. She did however know Jason wasn't the type to let his kid brother be around him if he was into something like alcohol. She still could not believe this was the same guy that had said rather clearly he was against drinking on their second date. Had she really pulled him down this low? No, she couldn't really blame herself. He had done it to himself, hadn't he? She'd left him alone for three days and he'd decided to try the casual sex route. She couldn't be blamed for that and it wasn't like she'd ever been the kind of girl to take that kind of thing lightly. He would have known that and he hadn't given her a second thought. She felt that hardened feeling surround her heart and she frowned to herself. What was she even thinking they should get back together? She couldn't trust him and love only went so far.
Anabel watched him flop onto his stomach with a groan, knowing that taking the pressure off was just as painful as putting it on. She had never actually broken anything, but she had made the assumption from watching him. He stood and looked down at her with an uneven smile realizing after a moment he'd left his shirt off and hastened to grab it. She hadn't even paid his scars a bit of mind. She'd trained her eyes not to look at them what seemed so long ago and apparently she hadn't forgotten not to. Sitting up she nodded and setting a hand behind her she stood up as well. She had too good of a view from here of his beer stand and watching him buy more of the stuff wasn't something she figured she could stand. Grabbing her bag she wandered the opposite way to where there was free food, joining the long line. Normally she wouldn't so much as think of eating a hot dog as they grossed her out with the whole mystery meat deal, but she wasn't sure much could make her feel sicker than she did now. Her appetite wasn't really that great, but she supposed it was better to actually eat something. She hadn't had lunch and it was already past dinner time. Picking up one of the styrofoam plates that one of the volunteers had prepared she squirted some mustard on it, wrinkling her nose at the despicable thing and turning away from the crowded table and reaching into the ice filled tub of soft drinks and picking up a pepsi. It had taken ten minutes just to get through the line and when she turned away and began to walk back toward her towel Jason was already back with another bottle. Well, at least he is slowing down, she thought, thinking his bottle was another beer.
Setting her food down carefully on the edge of the towel she dropped her bag and sat down again, her legs Indian style, and reached for her plate. Before he could even ask about her sudden change in opinion about hot dogs she smiled a bit, "I'm just really hungry," and leerily she bit into the thing, her eyebrows raising a bit. Granted the food itself was disgusting, but it tasted absolutely delicious. Setting the plate down she reached for her drink, pulling the tab up and then pushing it back, and lifting it to her lips. Copying her ex she pressed the can into the sand and picked her plate back up, turning to face him a bit more when he spoke to her. Swallowing the bite of hot dog she had just taken she turned and shook her head, "Nah, I went ahead and started renting a little apartment." She took another bite of her hot dog, a bit sad to see it was already half way gone before elaborating, "There's only so many times I can hear my mother and Eligio moan before I lose it," she said with a crude laugh, speaking the honest truth. She certainly was not the only passionate lover in the family, that was for sure. When she was a teenager they'd been more discreet, but she supposed at this point they'd decided to just admit they had a sexual relationship considering Annie was an adult now. It was, however, a misconception to think she felt any less awkward about the situation.
Taking a big sip from her can of soda she finally noticed that the bottle Jason was drinking from was neither tinted nor round and was significantly larger than his beer bottles. Looking a bit closer she noticed the words Old No. 7 printed on the label and she choked on her sip, sending it down the wrong way. Feeling it burn down her windpipe she sputtered, trying to cough it back up, her cheeks turning a dark shade of red and her eyes bulging. Finally catching her breath she turned her blue eyes onto him and exclaimed, "Jeez Irving, did no one ever teach you how to drink?" She'd always thought it was pretty common knowledge that if you were going to drink you took the liquor first and the beer later, unless of course you wanted to puke your guts up. Rolling her eyes she carefully took another sip of her drink, this time swallowing properly before she looked at the bottle again. Almost half of it was gone and she suddenly got a lot more serious. Turning her eyes slowly on Jason there was a distinct fearful look on her face, "Jason, tell me you've had that bottle for a while now." Binging on any sort of alcohol was dangerous, but especially something as hard as whiskey. Over her dead body was he taking another gulp.
words: 1323
wearing: this
notes: his bac would be really high by now...
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 8, 2009 23:54:40 GMT -5
He shook his head, laughing slightly as she explained her random food choice. It actually looked halfway decent and he hadn’t had anything to eat basically all day. Whatever, he wasn’t really hungry. He had too much liquid in his stomach to want “real” - and he used the term lightly looking at the hot dog - food. His laugh only increased at her expression as she bit into the food. The way she bit into it, it was like she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Then again, that was kind of understandable seeing as hot dogs were basically all the random leftovers at the meat factory thrown together in an awkward shaped piece of meat. Smirking slightly, he raised his eyebrows and motioned at the bun in her hand. “Careful, I think I see an eyeball,” he teased before turning back to his newest bottle of alcohol. He knew the effects would be hitting him soon and she’d be seeing a side if him she probably would never want to see again. He had said he was boring, but boring wasn’t exactly it; he was more of the depressed kind of drunk. The memories he worked hard to drown would always come back and make him feel worse, especially as the one of Ana walking in on Dahlia straddling him always seemed to replay over and over like a bad movie that never ended.
It kind of surprised him to feel a shock of pain shoot through his heart again as she said she got her own little apartment. He almost didn’t like it and he suddenly felt really protective, questions about the apartment popping into his mind. Was it in a safe area of town? Who were her neighbors in the building? They weren’t drug dealers or mass murderers or anything? Sighing, he pushed his worried questions from his mind, laughing a short laugh when she mentioned her mom and her lover, his gaze tearing away from her. They had been like that and he couldn’t lie, he missed it, he missed her. If his drinking didn’t make that quite obvious. And it wasn’t just that it was the breakup, he knew he could have survived through that without going as far as he did. He couldn’t put what he did behind him, how badly he had hurt two of the closest people to him.
As she spluttered, it took a moment for him to realize what was going on and he looked at her, his dark eyes wide, not quite sure what to do as her eyes seemed to bulge out of her head. He slid closer to her, moving his arm awkwardly, debating whether or not to try something before resting it back on his side. His bushy eyebrows raised at the first words spluttered out of her mouth after her choking, an amused look on his face. “I didn’t know there was a right way to drink,” he said, shrugging. “I thought the point was to get yourself wasted as fast as possible.” It was an attempt at a jest, but it was a jest that spoke the truth; that’s what he had tried to do once he was slightly comfortable with his drinking. No, he would never be fully comfortable with the fact that he did something he had always found so pointless, so reckless, but he did it because for a little while, there was a time where Ana wasn’t on his mind. Well, nothing was on his mind. The nights after he went on a drinking spree, even his dreams were gone. Then again, it wasn’t exactly the best sleep he’d ever gotten, but it was better than none. Or having her haunt him in his dreams. Either way, he found it to be a tiny bit of an improvement until he woke up the next morning, feeling like he had one foot in his grave.
Even behind the eyes that were beginning to glaze over and steadily show more signs of the poison in his body, he could register the fear on her face and the concern in her voice. He set the bottle down in the sand, not burying it as deep as his previous ones and studied her, blinking slowly a few times. “Well, I‘ve had it for a few hours.” It wasn’t a lie, he had had the bottle for a few hours. But it had been sitting in his car unopened until he disappeared and she went to get her hot dog. That’s when he had started on it.
He could almost feel her distaste radiating off of her like the heat from the sun and he stared at the end of his towel, focusing in on it before he started to pick at it again uncomfortably. Maybe it was time to head home. There was probably a bus transporting people off of the island; all he had to do was go to his car and throw his towel in it and then either find the bus or call a cab. Looking back at her uneasily, he could see her blue eyes clearly and all he wanted was to see them smile again. His gaze slid down her face, resting on her lips for a moment before he closed his eyes, leaning away from her slightly as he remembered what it was like to feel them against his. He wanted to taste the sweetness again and he sighed, opening his eyes and reaching for his bottle. The memories were killing him; the more he drank, the more he hurt until he reached that point where he felt nothing and woke up the next morning, his memories breaking off at that point. It would have been smarter to stay home and drink or go to the club. At least there he wouldn’t see the person he still loved, even though he knew how bad he had hurt her and knew she probably didn’t even want to see him, let alone have him here beside her, talking to her. “I‘m, uh, gunna go home. It was nice to see you ‘gain,” he said slowly, not quite sure he wanted to try to stand quite yet. He rolled onto his stomach again, taking a deep breath, telling himself to just get up and leave. He’d see her at school, right?
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 9, 2009 19:54:24 GMT -5
"Jason," she whined with a smile when he said he saw an eyeball, her nose wrinkling and she set it aside at least for the moment. Glancing back up at him she stuck her tongue out at him, not quite all the way, her blue eyes sparkling. She got that feeling again, like they were in a time warp and everything was back to normal again. It was as though she had woken up this morning with his lips on her shoulder and not the long tongue of her puppy and after this party winded down they'd be going back to his house, their house, and everything would be as it should be again. She couldn't stop thinking about the happiness he'd given her and how much she missed it. Being around him gave her a tiny reminder of what they'd been and she wanted it back more than ever before. If only she didn't have such a childish grudge against ever going back to what they'd been. She never would have let him go completely if it hadn't been for his lust. The sound of that moan for another girl would always haunt her. She could only imagine if a red light had caught her and she'd come in even a minute or two later...
Jason really didn't need to worry about her new living accommodations. Of course they were not as nice as what she'd left behind when she'd left him, but his house had been the nicest place she'd ever lived and would probably remain that way. She didn't come from money like he did and home even when she'd had two parents living under one roof had been rather cramped. She'd never lived in the nice neighborhoods, never had the finer things, not until they'd become a couple. No, she hadn't been dating him because of his money no matter what anyone thought on that matter, but it certainly hadn't hurt that he could give a better life to her and one day to the kids they had wanted that would now never come to be. She was perfectly fine in her new, however humble abode. It had been a slight adjustment, yes, but now that they were over for good she wasn't about to live with her mother forever. Her mother needed her space and Annie did too. Not to mention she was eventually going to want to move on relationship wise and she certainly wasn't going to creep off to her room when mommy wasn't home like a sixteen year old with the next guy to catch her heart, if she ever did find such a man. It still irked her to no end that Jason had placed the bar so high that next to no one would be able to reach it, in general and, well, in bed too. Their bodies had been too perfectly designed for each other. The concupiscent Anabel Jason had always known was not the typical way she was in bed. It was the two of them, together, that had made her that way. She couldn't forget his passion for her and she didn't want to.
Uncouthly she rolled her eyes at his response to her criticism of his drinking, the joke not especially funny in her mind because she was fairly certain that he probably had been taking that approach to alcohol. She pitied his liver if that was the case and found it rather ironic that with all his knowledge of the human body he wasn't concerned about his health half as much as she was. She supposed it was good he was young. If he stopped soon he might never have to face any of the serious complications of his choice. She shook her head and sighed wearily, "You can't mix alcohol like that, I mean, unless you are trying to win a projectile vomiting contest." She supposed he'd had his dark head in a toilet bowl quite a lot lately if he hadn't known the rule before now. The thought made her stomach flip and she rubbed her neck with a grimace at the thought, picking up her can of Pepsi in hopes it would help to settle her stomach.
Staring him up and down, she took in his dull expression and his confusion when she asked him how long he'd had the bottle. Finally he answered her, and she couldn't stop her jaw from going slack and she ran a hand over her face. Yeah, but you would never get behind the wheel if you were drunk and I've been here for the rest of that time, she thought to herself. Even if he'd really lost it and drove here drunk she would have noticed before now. He had been at least relatively sober until now. Wrapping her arms around her middle and watching him for a long moment she wasn't sure what to do. It seemed to her he'd had way too much, maybe even a dangerous level of too much, but she didn't really know if he was just really drunk and she didn't want to overreact, though it was her tendency. She had a mothering instinct when it came to him. It had been her after all that had done next to everything for him for a little while when he'd been released from the hospital. It certainly was not characteristic of her to want to care for everyone, but at least where he was concerned she felt that pull.
From the bottom of her eye she saw his hand reach for the bottle again and she reached out, grabbing his hand before it could touch the glass. Taking the bottle by its neck she pulled it out of his reach like it was a toy he wasn't allowed to have, tempted to toss a gulp back of it herself no matter the terrible smell the bottle was radiating. She could use a bit of liquor right about now. Aside from the times her mother had had a little too much wine and started to dance the flamenco in the living room she had never really had to deal with a drunk, but she had never found the experience enjoyable. After her mother tired of the dance she'd drop to the couch and get very remorse, typically over Annie's dad and she wouldn't shut up. Anabel really hoped Jason wasn't a talker. Realizing she was still holding his hand she dropped it as though it had scalded her. It almost felt as though it had. Looking over at her he slurred something about going home and she shook her head at him. How could he even think about driving? He of all people should know the consequences of that. "Jason, you're trashed. I can't just let you leave. You know that," she told him, staring down at where he was sprawled out on the towel. Scooting a bit closer to him, she nibbled her lip. Could he even move? Hesitantly she touched his shoulder, "I'm gonna drive you home. You think you can get up?" She didn't know why she was doing this. If she was in her right mind she'd just find someone else to do it, but she felt responsible in some small way, and there was no way he was finding his own way home in this sort of stupor.
words: 1232
wearing: this
driving: this
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 9, 2009 22:22:52 GMT -5
Through his glazed over eyes, he watched her wrap her arms around her stomach as she always tended to do when she was worried. His eyes looked up at her face, not quite sure how to read it and he sighed, wondering what she was thinking. That was what was always on his mind when he was drunk; what she was thinking, if she missed him, how much she hurt, if she had found anyone else. Any question that swirled through his confused mind was wrapped around her, wishing he knew the answer or had some way to find them out. Either that or he was asking himself why he had to hurt her like he had. The look on her face when she had found him with Dahlia sitting on top of him would always haunt him. It wasn’t just that she was hurting that made him angry, it was because it was all his fault. If he had just thought about what he was doing for one short second, he knew he would have stopped before anybody would have been hurt. There was one thing he knew he would never know the answer to; if Ana hadn’t walked in on them, where would he have stopped with Day?
His dark eyebrows furrowed as her hand stopped his from touching the bottle again and he pouted just like a little kid as she pulled it away. He had always been like a little kid in some ways, but those tendencies just came out even more when he was drunk. It was like he regressed to a younger state, whether it was the way he was pouting, his kiddish smile or just simply the way he acted. Still pouting, he went to reach for the bottle before dropping his hand back to his side, knowing it was hopeless. Ever since she moved in, she had that motherly attitude, something he knew would be great with their kids. Or now, her kids, since their futures clearly weren’t wrapped around each other anymore.
As her hand quickly pulled away from his, he couldn’t push away the hurt look that crossed his face, sighing and dropping his gaze from her as she shook her head. He furrowed his eyebrows again, his lips slipping into another pout. “Why not?” he whined quietly, sighing again. “How d‘you think I got home from Port?” He never drove, she should know him well enough to know that. If nothing else, the wreck taught him one thing; he never wanted to put someone else through what he had been through or worse. Even before the accident if something had come along to make him drink, he knew he wouldn’t have driven then. The thought of hurting someone else just by being careless was terrible. He flinched as her hand touched his shoulder, a reaction that came from her pulling her hand away from his a few moments earlier. “There‘s a cab or a bus r‘something. You don‘t hafta take me home,” he slurred slowly, wondering if he heard her right. Even trashed something told him telling her that wasn’t going to change her mind. With a small shrug and a nod of his head, he tried to stand up, the world around him seeming to spin as he did.
It took him a moment and he almost didn’t make it, grimacing slightly as he used his left wrist a little too much, but he stood up on his own, wobbling a little bit as he did. He bent over to get his towel, chuckling as he almost fell over. He was clumsy enough without the alcohol, he didn’t need its help to fall over himself. Biting his lip, he stumbled towards the parking lot, assuming they were taking her car so she could leave when they got back to his house. Walking over towards his silver car, he unlocked it and tossed his towel in the back seat, leaning against the door and looking at her. “Where‘re you parked?” he asked, following her to her black Cobalt. After she unlocked the car, he snuggled into the passenger’s seat, sighing quietly. It took him a moment to realize he hadn’t put his seatbelt on and he fought with it for a moment, finally getting it bucked around his body. They hadn’t even made it to the causeway when he asked the first question that popped into his mind, his voice quiet, questioning and almost a little ashamed. “Why‘re you doing this?” He didn’t think he deserved her kindness, not in the slightest after what he did.
He wasn’t able to hide his feelings; that was something he had never been able to do and drunk that didn’t change. What did change, though, was the fact that he blurted out what was on his mind instead of milling the question over and over in his head. He wasn’t exactly talkative, just looking for the answers that he could finally get answered now that he was around her. Unfortunately, the hard truth was that he most likely wouldn’t even remember this conversation when he woke up in the morning. He’d be lucky to remember even a bit of the ride in her Cobalt Coupe, much less a question he had been craving the answer to. Sighing again, he hadn’t really noticed his breathing had become slower in his alcohol-induced stupor. It wasn’t really anything too serious, just his breaths were shorter and slower than what they had been on the beach. Even if he wasn’t wasted, it was probably something he wouldn’t pick up.
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Post by ana isabel bailey on Jun 10, 2009 22:42:56 GMT -5
A little laugh slipped from Annie's lips as Jason seemed to pout with her removing the bottle from within his reach. Lifting his other hand he reached it out as though he could get it without moving, slowly realizing it was out of his reach. She shook her head with a sigh, dropping his hand and seeing a look cross his face that was clearly hurt. She felt a bit bad, but she really didn't want to give him the wrong idea with him being intoxicated like that. There was a chance he was a little more touchy feely when he was drunk and no matter how much she missed that body, when she'd decided she didn't want any more one night stands that had included with her ex. Resolve aside, however, she didn't trust herself completely with him. His lips could be very, very convincing when they wanted to be.
Annie shook her head when he asked her how he got home from the club downtown. "I don't really want to know," she replied with a sigh. She wasn't going to say she hadn't worried about him at least some in the past couple of months, but she'd been more concerned about how he was doing with the driving and the bad dreams and maybe even a bit about how he was fairing without her. She certainly hadn't given him half as much thought as he had given her, but he'd flashed once or twice through her mind. Well, more than that, but the other times he had spontaneously combusted or met some other unfortunate fate. The little fantasies had brought her at least some feeling of perverse satisfaction. Never though had it occured to her that he'd have picked up drinking. She didn't have a membership at Port O'Call so it was impossible they could have run into each other anyway, and it just seemed so... unlike him. So incredibly unlike him.
Taking in his childish expression before he turned away to roll onto her stomach it reminded her of all the times he had jokingly looked at her that way. She had never once wondered what he'd looked like as a kid before he'd shown her pictures. He still had a very childish face with certain expressions or from a certain angle and then there were other times she'd look his way and be slightly stunned by how mature and outright attractive he looked. It was just one of those things she supposed. She figured even twenty years from now he'd still have that same boyish appeal, not that she supposed they'd still see each other that far in the future. It hit her with a pang to realize she'd never see him middle aged or old or any of that. It hadn't really hit her until right then just how diverged their paths were now. He'd smile at another woman on his wedding day and he'd kiss another woman's child on the cheek goodnight. The things she'd so easily pictured him doing in their life together she wasn't going to be a part of now and it hurt to think of it.
Unsurely placing her hand on his shoulder she felt his body jump which she took as a good thing. At least he still responded to things. "Just get up before I change my mind," she responded a bit roughly, turning to pick up her bag and slide it over her shoulder, mumbling to herself, "Who knew Tennessee whiskey made you sound like you were from Tennessee." The way he was slurring he did sort of sound like a hick and it would probably be amusing if she wasn't so annoyed with him for getting himself tanked. Picking the plate with the half-eaten hot dog up she folded it in half so she could throw it away, the eyeball comment actually having grossed her out a bit, picked her towel up with the same hand and then reached for her drink. She was still sort of thirsty and not about to through a perfectly good can away. Frowning with disgust at the bottle of whiskey she tucked her towel into her bag, realizing a bit late that her bag was now filled with sand, and reached for the bottle. She knew he'd probably paid at least twenty-five dollars for it, but she was not going to let him keep it if this was how it made him. Looking up to make sure he hadn't killed himself yet, she watched him stagger, laughing quite merrily. She really should just hand someone a twenty to make sure he got home. People were looking their direction and she had no doubt that whoever wrote that annoying little gossip column that seemed so obsessed with the two of them would have plenty to say, nevermind what was already being said this very moment. Her cheeks turning a dark shade of red, she flicked her sunglasses down to cover her eyes and ducked her head, looking like a papparazzi stalked celebrity. She hated this kind of attention, though she didn't guess anybody really did.
Walking slowly behind him she kept her eyes down, avoiding looking at anybody and wishing everybody would stop looking at the motley two of them. Stopping to drop the bottle in the trash she heard someone exclaim at their good fortune and scramble behind her to pull it right back out. She didn't really care at this point; she had a lot bigger fish to fry. She followed him down the row of cars, passing her own so he could get rid of his towel, appreciating the courtesy he had not to cover hers with sand, and she nodded her head back the other way when he asked where she'd parked. Ten cars down she reached her black, practically sizzling car and she hit the unlock button on her key fob and then popped the trunk, dropping her sandy things in on the opposite side of the trunk from the pair of clean clothes she'd had the wisdom to toss in in case she got wet or decided she wanted to go anywhere her current attire wouldn't be acceptable. Not that she had a lot of use for the clothes now.
Slamming the trunk a bit harder than normal to get her aggravation out she walked to the driver's door, a burst of hot air hitting her when she opened it. She wished now she'd opted for a different color that didn't hold as much heat. Slipping in behind the wheel she thanked herself for not getting leather seats, though the synthetic fabric still burned like something else. "Seat belt," she prompted him, eying the comfy way he had settled into the seat. It was actually rather rare anybody else sat there anymore as she didn't really do much of anything social lately. Occasionally she'd hang out with her cousin, but Caleb had a way of getting under her skin.
With a weary sigh she turned the key in the ignition, listening to it come to life, but not about to shift out of park until he was buckled in. Escorting him home was much more like dealing with a four year old and very little like being around a twenty-two year old man. She'd gotten drunk plenty of times, but now she wondered why anyone would want to put themselves through this sort of embarrassment. It was a bit of an eye-opener really. When it finally clicked she shifted the car into reverse and pulled out, realizing they were the first to leave, though this wasn't all that surprising. The party was supposed to be continuing well past dark. She just hoped her party wouldn't be.
Her head turned when a quiet and even slightly guilty question met her ears and she gazed at him for a moment, one eye still on the sandy parking lot before her. Slowly she turned away and shrugged her shoulders, "I don't really know," she whispered. This was not how exes were supposed to treat each other, and especially not ones that had parted on such sour terms. If she were to be real with herself she'd be able to acknowledge that it was because she still loved him and the thought of something happening to him when he was this intoxicated made her sick. And of course she knew she was the reason he was drinking himself into oblivion, or trying at any rate, and the tiniest part of her felt guilty for that. Hitting the causeway she pressed the gas and sped up, sending the thoughts from her mind.
words: 5000! idk, actually. I don't feel like checking.
wearing: this
driving: this
notes: I blasted through the last couple paragraphs. Hopefully they are not the worst ever.
lyrics: "jesus saves (white trash like you)" by rick springfield
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Post by jason andrew irving on Jun 11, 2009 15:03:02 GMT -5
Her rough voice made him withdraw from her a little bit, the expression on his face incredibly similar to a four year old who’s parent just scolded him for a reason he didn’t quite understand. His dark eyes slipped away from hers and he bit his bottom lip, sighing uneasily. “You don‘ hafta,” he murmured again, his words nearly impossible to understand between the drunken slur and the quiet muttering. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this if she really didn’t want to; he had survived on his own. No, it wasn’t at the top of his game, but he was alive. That was what mattered, right?
It took a moment for her words to click in his mind before he reached over and pulled his seatbelt across him, jumping as the hot metal on the bottom of the belt burnt his fingers. The interior of the car was hot from sitting out in the sun all day, any car would be, but it didn’t help that she had chosen a black car when they had gone to the car lot. For a brief moment after he finally got his seatbelt buckled, he wondered if it was possible she could just disappear from the car and then perhaps it would slam itself into a telephone pole or a brick wall. Shaking his head, he chuckled quietly as the thought.
“Ana,” he said, somehow managing to slur her shortened name. “I don‘t get it. I saw how hurt you were…” he broke off, sighing as they sped down the causeway. Glancing over at her, he asked her a question he had been wanting to ask since she sat down next to him, but he was only now drunk enough to actually voice it. “How can you stand even t’look at me?” The hurt and the frustration in his voice was clear; he was mad at himself for everything that happened. He had been since the moment he came to his senses and realized what he was doing, when he realized he had come so close to having a one night stand with his ex. Resting his forehead against his fingers, his elbow on the side of the car, he stared out the window, his stomach churning slightly as he watched the scenery blur by. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he closed his eyes and rested his head back against the head rest, a few angry tears leaking from his eyes as he did.
He felt worse than he had lately and he hadn’t thought that was possible. Now she had seen him lower than he ever thought possible, doing something he found disgusting. Sniffing, he opened his eyes and rested his head against the window, staring out at the white line on the side of the road, blurring by and causing his stomach to flip. Looking a bit farther ahead, he saw a lit up area with a bunch of cars in the parking lot. He had no idea what it was or where they were but he sighed, nearly telling her to drop him off there and he’d call a cab but his thought didn’t make it to his vocal cords before it slipped from his mind.
For the rest of the ride back to his house, he was silent, his dark eyes unmoving from the dashboard in front of him. A million thoughts jumbling in his aching head, only a few that really made sense. One of those thoughts that were actually clear kept turning over again and again in his mind, though he couldn’t quite figure out how to put it into words which could have been a good thing. He still couldn’t understand why she wanted to do this instead of pushing him off of a cliff. The hurt on her face had been there, inscribed on her face. It couldn’t have been clearer if she had written it out on her forehead with a black sharpie. As they drove, he shivered, suddenly realizing he was incredibly cold. It had nothing to do with the air conditioning or any outside factors; it almost felt like his insides had turned to ice. He curled himself up as much as he could in the limited space, closing his eyes again, drawing in a long, trembling breath.
He hadn’t even realized that she had pulled into his driveway, taking a moment to snap out of his trance. Fumbling with the release button, he began to get frustrated with himself as it took way too long for it to finally click. Opening his door, he stepped out, his legs wobbling under him as he turned around to shut the door, glancing over at her, sighing quietly as he did. “Thanks. I owe you.” Searching through the deep pockets in his swim trunks, he found his wallet and opened it up, pulling out a bill from it without even really looking at it and tossing it on the seat where he had been sitting. “For gas,” he mumbled, shutting the door behind him, turning to go to his door.
Walking up the steps to his house, he tripped and fell, cringing as he landed on his bad hand, a dull aching starting up in his wrist again along with a slight throbbing along his palms and his knees. Standing up slowly and making his way up the few steps more carefully this time, he searched through the pockets of his swimming trunks again, fairly sure he had left his keys in there. It took a few moments for him to find them and finally get his door open. Once he got in his house, he just slid into his family room and on to his couch, curling up against the leather armrest, still shivering a little bit. This was where he had been sleeping lately, the squishy Coca Cola pillow and spotted blanket making that rather obvious. The slight stinging along his hands only got worse as he squeezed his hands open and closed before pressing them against his swim trunks to see they were bleeding, but only a little bit. It was definitely not the worst he had seen.
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