He poked his tongue out and ran it over the small scar. “I used to have a lip piercing there. I was fifteen and stupid, and it wasn’t done well, I got it at a party and the girl who did it was more than a little stoned. It was worth it, then, to come back and hear my dad trying to control his rage about it.” He laughed. “Anyway, a few months after I got it, I got into a fight at school. There was this guy… I’ll spare you the details. Rude insults were exchanged, feelings were hurt, fist fighting ensued. I can hit pretty hard when I want to, don’t look like that. He was wearing… I think it was probably his dad’s class ring or something, but it got caught on the lip ring and ripped it right out. Blood everywhere. I ended up with a pretty bad black eye and a cut up lip, but he got a broken nose for his trouble, so I think I won.” He grinned.
“My dad was hilarious, picking me up that day. Trying to be stern in front of the principal, but also proud that I held my own and delighted the lip ring was gone…” he trailed off. “Yeah.” He finished lamely. He twisted his wrist around to skim his fingers along the side of her face. “What about this?” he asked, touching the scar near her right eye.
Eden listened to Ian’s story, smirking at his clear stupidity when he was younger and pleased knowing she would have done the same. She even snorted at his quip about the victor of the fight.
She felt a flare of sympathy as he talked about his dad. She could tell, clearly, they had never been on the friendliest of terms, even before the incident with the skirt he’d told her about. She was familiar with the feeling, but she still wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. Especially not this kid, this stupidly sweet kid she was curled up with in the middle of a record-fucking-low on a California night in a tiny, pathetic shack. She hated herself for thinking it, because it meant she was starting to care, which scared the shit out of her, but she thought this kid deserved so much better.
“Hmm?” she murmured as he brushed the raised bump of flesh above her eye. “Oooh, that,” she grinned in recognition. “That one is fucking priceless.”
“Got it when I was a baby. Guess how?” she asked without bothering to wait for an answer, barreling on, because this was truly one of her favorite stories. “It was the day my parents took me to get christened or Baptized or whatever. I was flipping shit because I didn’t want to go in the fucking water, apparently, like, screaming and crying and stuff, and I ended up squirming right out of my Mom’s arms and she dropped me and I caught my eye on the alter on my way down. Proves what kinda Catholic I was destined to be right from the start, huh?” she chuckled.
“What about these, hmm?” she asked after a moment, tugging on his torn jeans. “These look interesting.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her story. From what he knew about her, she hadn’t changed a bit.
He rubbed the torn edge of the cuff thoughtfully. “These? I don’t remember where I got them. My…” He trailed off, something tugging at his memory as his fingers brushed the holes, the safety pinned edge. He did remember where he’d gotten these pants. He was sure he was blushing. Hoping it was dark enough to hide it, he bit his lip, unsure whether to lie. It was a personal story… and an embarrassing one. Then again, she’d admitted to stealing shoes from a guy who’d payed her for sex so… His silence was too long now to cover his bluff anyway.
He exhaled loudly. “I uh, I got these from a girl. Took them from her really. By accident! It was at this party…” Ian, as a rule, did not talk about sex. Or think about sex. Or mention the fact that he’d ever had sex because the only people he’d talked to before now were his parents and WOW that was a conversation he’d wanted to avoid. He guessed it didn’t matter now. “We… uh, you know. Had sex. It was my first time.” The tail end of the sentence was mumbled so low it was incomprehensible. Wow that sounded dumb. She was going to think he was so dumb and awkward now. He cleared his throat. “It was mutually unsatisfying. There was a lot of awkward scrambling for clothes and rushing out fo the party when it was done. I didn’t realize I was wearing her pants until I was halfway home… I was too embarrassed to go back.” He wrapped his arm around his knee, resting his face on it. “They fit me, so I wear them.” He mumbled into his arm.
Ian winced as she shoved against him, her elbow digging into the soon-to-be bruises across his ribs. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying, he was so relieved that she had enough strength in her to fight back. He hadn’t known what he was going to find when he came back for her, he was too bent on destroying the man who’d done this to her, and the nagging voice in the back of his head that whispered what if you’re too late had only fueled the fire.
He could only sit as she talked, one hand holding her to his chest, the other softly stroking her hair. All he wanted to do was erase this moment from her life, rewind time and take it back. He shifted against the wall, wrapping his arms around her as best he could, doing his best to shield her from the evil in the world.
By the time she had finished talking, the tears were rolling down his cheeks too, and he didn’t bother stopping them or hiding them as he rocked her close, tangling his fingers in her hair, holding every part of her as close to him as he could. “Shh no. Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry, this shouldn’t…” he choked, this was stupid, this hadn’t even happened to him, so why did it feel like he was the one that couldn’t breathe? “This shouldn’t happen to anyone. This shouldn’t ever happen to you…”
He reached up to stroke her face, wiping away tears and tracing her cheeks, flushed and hot, with his cool fingers. His knuckles, bruised and bloody (he hadn’t been thinking of proper form when he threw those punches), protested, and he winced again, but didn’t stop. “It’s going to be okay.” he whispered softy, over and over until the words lost their meaning. And then, “I love you.”
Eden barely heard what Ian was saying. She wanted to listen to him, wanted to believe him, but everything was just happening so quickly and her mind was only barely beginning to catch up.
She finally glanced up at him for the first time when his hands drifted up to her cheeks, wiping away the mess of moisture dampening her face. She stared at his face, just the familiarity of it being enough to almost calm her enough that she could breathe normally again, although the tears didn’t stop. Her eyes snapped to his hands however, the moment he winced and grew wide at the sides of his ragged, blood-stained knuckles.
“Oh god,” she breathed, reaching up for his hand and cradling them in her own, trying to gingerly wipe away the blood. “You’re hurt,” she whimpered, another wave of tears hitting her as the guilt from mere minutes ago was back, only this time a hundred times heavier. She’d brought this on them. If only she’d listened to Ian, he was just looking out for her, for them, but she’d insisted, even hurt Ian so she could have her way because she was so damn stubborn and selfish. She was crying openly into Ian’s shoulder again before she knew it. “I’m sorry. He hurt you, he could have killed you. It’s my fault, I’m sorry,” she cried, soaking the fabric of his shirt further.
When her tears finally subdued a few minutes later, she turned her face, resting her cheek against Ian’s chest and still cradling his damaged hand in hers when something occurred to her.
“How did you know?” she began slowly. “Why did you come- …you never left,” she said suddenly, the realization hitting her.
“No, no it’s fine!” he rushed to assure her, flexing his fingers to show the full range of motion he still possessed. “Don’t worry, he got it much worse than I did. He’ll be lucky if nothing’s broken, I only got,” he figured it was better to bring all of it out in the open now. “These,” he flexed his fingers again, “Some bruises,” he reached up to touch his face, “A… scratch, and” he winced as his fingers brushed his eye, “…Okay that’s probably gonna be a black eye, but that’s” he paused, biting his lip. “…Not helping, alright, the point is, I’m fine.”
He cradled her back to him, letting her cry, knowing that he probably wasn’t getting through to her, probably wouldn’t be for a long time, but still trying. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault, saying that is stupid and shitty and horrible, it’s not your fault that some stupid asshole thought he could do what he did to you. I’m glad I got a chance to hit him. I’d do it again. People like that deserve all the beatings they get.” He lapsed into silence, wiping her tears away.
“I never have.” he murmured. “I remember, you know. That night. I said I’d always protect you. And I always will. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there sooner… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.” He wrapped his arms around her protectively, pulling her close despite the bruises. “I can’t imagine what I’d do without you.” His breath hitched again. Breathe, kid. He thought to himself, gently lowering his face into her hair and breathing into it, comforted by the smell of her shampoo, and her.
(Source: ianandthestars)
Ian didn’t go far. By the time he’d reached the front door of their building, most of his anger had drained away, and he plopped down on the front step, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. He slumped, listening to the sounds of the night. This was what he did when Shiloh worked. She thought he went off, to visit AJ at work or else explore the town. But he stayed, and would always stay. Just in case.
He was almost drowsing when he heard her yell. He snapped up immediately, straining for anything else, to make sure it was her. He heard her scream and he was on his feet charging up the stairs before it died in her throat. He slammed into the apartment, barely recognizing the pain as his hip collided with the counter, too focused to watch where he ran.
He pushed the bedroom door open as loudly as possible, knowing while he did that he was only denting the wall more. But it made him feel a little better. One stride took him across the bedroom and to a place where he could grab the man and pull him off of Shiloh. He was heavy, heavier than Ian had expected, and they fell to the floor together.
“God.” he said through gritted teeth, rolling partially off the stunned guy, who remained motionless on the floor. “You being naked makes this so much worse for both of us.” He pulled back his fist and slammed it into where he calculated the guy’s face would be. He was right, the punch seemed to make the guy realize what was happening, because his fist flew back, smashing into where Ian’s nose would have been if he hadn’t turned his head. Instead the blow rammed into the corner of his eye socket. He winced, and punched back, hard, two hits in quick succession to the jaw.
“You sonofabitch.” He growled, sending a dead-eyed stare he hoped his “friend” on the floor was getting. “If you” He punched him in the eye, barely dodging a punch directed at his face, ragged fingernails leaving stinging scratches as they grazed his cheek. “Ever” he slammed his elbow into the man’s sternum. “Tou-” the guy rolled unexpectedly and kicked, his knee colliding squarely with the bottom of Ian’s ribcage, winding him and giving the guy a chance to stand. Ian gasped and stood with him, receiving another punch to the face that he only half dodged for his trouble.This one was with the man’s other hand, and he wore some kind of ring that left a thin bleeding line across his cheekbone. It stung, but it only served to make him madder.
“Touch” he said again, punctuating it with a slam of his shoulder that sent the guy back into the wall. They slid down to the floor again. “My girl” He slammed the other guy’s head, hard, into the ground, the dead eyed grin back on his face. The guy sat up, using his last bit of strength to slam Ian back down into the ground. His mouth snapped closed, biting down hard on his tongue, and he tasted blood. He spit it back in the guy’s face and wriggled up, getting a little shakily to his feet. He reached out behind him and grabbed the clothes from the foot of the bed, then grabbed the guy but his thinning hair and yanked upward.
The guy yowled and stumbled to his feet, and Ian threw the clothes at him, at the same time pushing him towards the door. “Again.” now his words were punctuated by shoves, sending the guy stumbling backwards out of the bedroom and through the kitchen. “You.” Shove. “Will.” Shove. “Wish” He shoved him up against their front door. “That this” his last punctuation was a swift fist to the nads, at the same time he reached for the doorknob and opened the door. “Was all I’d do to you.” He slammed the door closed, twisting the lock, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Immediately, his attention went back to Shiloh. He ran back into the bedroom, reaching for her. “Shi? Shi are you okay? What did he do to you, how bad is it?” He wrapped his arms around her, murmuring, “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
Eden didn’t know what to make of the sudden outburst of commotion in the room. She couldn’t even register what was happening, other than one minute the man’s grip on her throat had cut off any access to oxygen she had, and her vision had gone fuzzy and dark, her arms limp, and she was waiting for everything to end and she was sure that for a second, as everything went black, maybe it had. The next, the man was just gone, and she didn’t bother to think or wonder why, all she did was gasped in a giant breath before rolling on her side and coughing violently as she tried to catch her breath.
Every movement made her vision blur again, sending a wave of dizziness over her, and she realized how terribly everything ached and she pushed herself up on her palms, heaving in huge breaths. She could hear movement behind her, something violent and terrifying, but her mind was too jumbled to even register what was happening.
As she felt more and more oxygen fill her lungs, and she began to see straight again, the panic settled over her again. He wasn’t gone, she knew that. But from the yelling, the growling, and the constant sound of flesh being hit, he wasn’t alone. She rolled back over, still heaving huge breaths, and the simple movement was enough to make her vision go blurry again as she realized how dizzy she was and much her entire body ached.
A moment later, things came into focus again, and her stomach dropped. Ian was rolling around on the ground with the man, fists flying wildly and Ian practically spitting in the man’s face. The man was strong, so strong he’d almost just killed her, and now he and Ian were fighting as if they were prepared to take the other’s life. This man could kill Ian. Right in front of her. Bile rose in her throat as she tried to move, tried to do anything to stop it, help Ian, because she couldn’t just sit by and watch this, but every movement sent a wave of pain and dizziness rippling through her, enough to knock her back down twice as much as she’d been able to get up.
She swore she must have blacked out again, or else just been too entirely panicked to realize what had happened, because suddenly she was alone in her room, curled up on the bed, vague noises of continued shouting echoing through the apartment. In that moment she was suddenly hyper-aware, of everything that was happening and everything that had happened. Ian was gone, and she wanted to scream for him, but her entire throat felt raw and clogged all at once and she couldn’t seem to get the words out. Her eyes fell on her stomach, her legs, her arms, all of which were stained with angry, red marks that were sure to bruise. She couldn’t imagine what her neck looked like, but she could still feel the phantom sensation of the man’s fingers gripping and twisting her throat. She let out a sob as she yanked her underwear back up from around her knees, and it was only then she realized the tears running rapidly down her cheeks. She was curled in on herself before the thought occurred to her, wrapping her arms around her knees and sobbing into them, the panic and adrenaline still coursing through her veins and she tried every thing she could think of to calm down and failed miserably.
She let out a brief screech when arms wrapped around her, shoving the person away violently on instinct, tensed to fight, before she made out Ian’s petrified face through the tears swimming in her eyes.
She stared at him for a second before she let out another sob, throwing herself against him and letting him wrap her up in his arms, cradling her and protecting her.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to the front of his shirt desperately as if he would slip away. She honestly thought she’d die if he disappeared right now, as he was the only thing holding her together. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
“I thought…I thought he was going to kill me, he just started hitting me and telling me to shut up, and then he was choking me, I…” she was cut off by another loud sob, and somewhere in the back of her mind she was livid at herself, screaming at herself to calm down, pull herself together, stop being such a fucking baby, but she couldn’t bring herself to it, not while her heart was still hammering away in her chest and the ghost of hands still lingered on her neck.
“I’m sorry, Ian, I’m so sorry,” she cried against him, willing him to stay there, wrapped around her forever because she truly believed she would shatter the moment he left.
Ian winced as she shoved against him, her elbow digging into the soon-to-be bruises across his ribs. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying, he was so relieved that she had enough strength in her to fight back. He hadn’t known what he was going to find when he came back for her, he was too bent on destroying the man who’d done this to her, and the nagging voice in the back of his head that whispered what if you’re too late had only fueled the fire.
He could only sit as she talked, one hand holding her to his chest, the other softly stroking her hair. All he wanted to do was erase this moment from her life, rewind time and take it back. He shifted against the wall, wrapping his arms around her as best he could, doing his best to shield her from the evil in the world.
By the time she had finished talking, the tears were rolling down his cheeks too, and he didn’t bother stopping them or hiding them as he rocked her close, tangling his fingers in her hair, holding every part of her as close to him as he could. “Shh no. Don’t be sorry, I’m sorry, this shouldn’t…” he choked, this was stupid, this hadn’t even happened to him, so why did it feel like he was the one that couldn’t breathe? “This shouldn’t happen to anyone. This shouldn’t ever happen to you…”
He reached up to stroke her face, wiping away tears and tracing her cheeks, flushed and hot, with his cool fingers. His knuckles, bruised and bloody (he hadn’t been thinking of proper form when he threw those punches), protested, and he winced again, but didn’t stop. “It’s going to be okay.” he whispered softy, over and over until the words lost their meaning. And then, “I love you.”
(Source: ianandthestars)
As soon as she said it, he dropped her hand, a wave of guilt sweeping over him. He lowered his head, biting his lip. “No, I’m sorry.” he murmured. “It’s…” he stopped himself from saying “my fault”, suddenly aware of how long they had been standing in the kitchen, with her… client… watching from the door. He realized, just as she had, that the man was on the verge of leaving. He nodded curtly, doing his best to swallow his pride, and his anger, hunched his shoulders, and turned away, towards the door.
“Just…” he murmured quietly, too quiet for the man on the other side of the door to hear. “Be safe.” He grabbed his cane, snapped it out, and put his hand on the doorknob. Swallowing his anger hadn’t worked. There was still someone on the other side of the door that was capable of hurting the most important thing in the world to him. He turned back to her again, just for a second, about to tell her again to give it all up. But he didn’t. He turned back to the door in silence.
Eden felt her stomach twisting painfully as Ian turned and walked out, looking defeated and hurt. She hadn’t intended to hurt him, that was the last thing she wanted,and she had to convince herself over and over she was doing this for him so she wouldn’t be allowed to completely hate herself.
“Love you,” she offered quietly, offhandedly as he left. He didn’t respond.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room then, Eden’s eyes falling back on her client who was watching her with an eyebrow raised.
“Boyfriend?” he asked.
“Best friend,” she answered, and turned without offering any more. This was her job, and her work, and although she couldn’t help it that Ian got dragged into it occasionally, these men had no right to know anything about, even acknowledge Ian. She didn’t want them associated with the best thing in her life, refused to let him be tainted by these people.
Eden walked to the door of the room she and Ian shared, gesturing for the man to follow her. She lead him inside and shut the door behind her, pulling her composure as best she could before turning back around.
“Now what did you say your name was again, sir?” she asked with a perfectly faux smirk as she pulled her shirt off over her head and dropped it on the floor. It barely fazed her anymore how the man’s eyes zeroed right in on her chest instantly.
“Sir. I like that,” he chuckled, and Eden quirked in eyebrow in response, slipping her cutoffs off as she went, leaving her in only her underwear. “Its Jerry.”
With that, the man grabbed Eden’s arm, spinning them and pushing her down on the bed hard. She blinked, slightly startled, tensing and sitting up a little as he made his way towards the bed.
“Whoa, Jerry,” she began, laughing awkwardly, more uncomfortable sounding than she wanted to. “Settle down, I’m not going anywhere. He didn’t seem to hear her as he worked his own clothes off and settled above her, his hands already on her. She sucked in a breath, mentally steeling herself and tensing despite herself. It didn’t matter how many times she did it, she still panicked a little every time.
His hands worked over her chest and stomach, and she let her eyes fall shut, allowing him to do what he wanted. They flew open, however, when his hands were suddenly gripping her breasts over her bra tightly, to the point where it was actually extremely painful. She gasped, and her hands flew up to swat away at his. “Hey, wanna be a little careful?” she snapped, suddenly not caring if she came off rude. “That hurt.”
“Shut up, whore,” the man’s voice responded, only now it was much deeper, more ragged, and before she had time to process this, Eden felt an impact on the side of her cheek, hard enough to snap her head to the side and enough that she knew it would bruise.
An acidic, sinking feeling settled over her stomach. Ian always told her to be careful. He’d just said it, not five minutes ago. Be careful, because she could easily misjudge a situation and get hurt. But it had never happened before, so she was confident that she would always be fine. It hadn’t happened, until it did. It was. It was happening right now, and suddenly she was legitimately afraid for the first time in a while.
“Whoa, what the fuck?!?” she snapped, sitting up as forcefully as she could and trying to push the man off. “Get the hell off me!”
Another impact against her cheek, and she swore she heard a crack this time, and then the man shoved her back down, pinning her arms to stop her from struggling. Eden gasped as her cheek was suddenly flooding with pain, and her heart picked up speed rapidly until she swore it was hammering in her chest.
“Get the hell off me you psycho!” she cried, the panic now seeping into her voice, trying again to shove the man away from her, only now it was even harder as he held her hands down, so all she could really do was flail her body and try to unbalance the man enough that he fell off. Sweat was gathering on her brow and she knew she was on the verge of hyperventilating but she didn’t care.
She almost wished she’d gotten hit again. Instead, he was suddenly letting go of her hands and before she had a moment to be grateful for that, the hands were wrapping around her throat.
She screamed for a moment, before he was squeezing and her air was cut off completely and she couldn’t make her voice work anymore, and her hands first flew to shove at his chest, trying desperately hard to push him off, then flying to his and scratching at his hands, clutching at them and trying to rip them away from her throat.
“I said shut the fuck up, cunt,” he growled above her, squeezing impossibly tighter as his free hand grasped at her underwear and yanked it down, preparing himself.
The realization came in a second. She was going to die here. After everything, all that she’d fought through and all that she’d survived, she was going to die here in this bed, in this ratty apartment in a crappy part of town with this psycho on top of her and having done nothing extraordinary, none of the great things she secretly hoped maybe one day she’d be able to do if she could escape all this.
For a fleeting moment her mind flashed to Ian, and, in this moment, when all she could do was panic and try to scream even though she had no air left to do it with, the guilt was back. Ian was going to be so disappointed in her. He may even be angry. After all, she was leaving him all alone after they’d sworn to stay with each other and never leave. She had imagined before what it would be like to lose Ian, and she’d concluded she would never let it happen, and should it, well, she wouldn’t be without him for very long. She couldn’t imagine what he was going to do, what he was going to feel when he returned in a few hours to find her body crumpled up in bed. She hated herself in that moment, that that was what she was leaving him with.
She felt tears spring into her eyes, and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the lack of oxygen or the fear, but the edges of her vision were starting to turn black, just as her arms still fighting, yanking at the man’s hands started to feel heavy, weighed down. She thought of Ian again as she gasped, feeling the man push towards her, beginning to move in. She almost wished it could just be over then. If she was going to die, let it happen now without her having to experience this as well. Just let it end.
The sound of the bedroom door slamming open was like an explosion in what she just realized had been a semi-silent room.
Ian didn’t go far. By the time he’d reached the front door of their building, most of his anger had drained away, and he plopped down on the front step, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. He slumped, listening to the sounds of the night. This was what he did when Shiloh worked. She thought he went off, to visit AJ at work or else explore the town. But he stayed, and would always stay. Just in case.
He was almost drowsing when he heard her yell. He snapped up immediately, straining for anything else, to make sure it was her. He heard her scream and he was on his feet charging up the stairs before it died in her throat. He slammed into the apartment, barely recognizing the pain as his hip collided with the counter, too focused to watch where he ran.
He pushed the bedroom door open as loudly as possible, knowing while he did that he was only denting the wall more. But it made him feel a little better. One stride took him across the bedroom and to a place where he could grab the man and pull him off of Shiloh. He was heavy, heavier than Ian had expected, and they fell to the floor together.
“God.” he said through gritted teeth, rolling partially off the stunned guy, who remained motionless on the floor. “You being naked makes this so much worse for both of us.” He pulled back his fist and slammed it into where he calculated the guy’s face would be. He was right, the punch seemed to make the guy realize what was happening, because his fist flew back, smashing into where Ian’s nose would have been if he hadn’t turned his head. Instead the blow rammed into the corner of his eye socket. He winced, and punched back, hard, two hits in quick succession to the jaw.
“You sonofabitch.” He growled, sending a dead-eyed stare he hoped his “friend” on the floor was getting. “If you” He punched him in the eye, barely dodging a punch directed at his face, ragged fingernails leaving stinging scratches as they grazed his cheek. “Ever” he slammed his elbow into the man’s sternum. “Tou-” the guy rolled unexpectedly and kicked, his knee colliding squarely with the bottom of Ian’s ribcage, winding him and giving the guy a chance to stand. Ian gasped and stood with him, receiving another punch to the face that he only half dodged for his trouble.This one was with the man’s other hand, and he wore some kind of ring that left a thin bleeding line across his cheekbone. It stung, but it only served to make him madder.
“Touch” he said again, punctuating it with a slam of his shoulder that sent the guy back into the wall. They slid down to the floor again. “My girl” He slammed the other guy’s head, hard, into the ground, the dead eyed grin back on his face. The guy sat up, using his last bit of strength to slam Ian back down into the ground. His mouth snapped closed, biting down hard on his tongue, and he tasted blood. He spit it back in the guy’s face and wriggled up, getting a little shakily to his feet. He reached out behind him and grabbed the clothes from the foot of the bed, then grabbed the guy but his thinning hair and yanked upward.
The guy yowled and stumbled to his feet, and Ian threw the clothes at him, at the same time pushing him towards the door. “Again.” now his words were punctuated by shoves, sending the guy stumbling backwards out of the bedroom and through the kitchen. “You.” Shove. “Will.” Shove. “Wish” He shoved him up against their front door. “That this” his last punctuation was a swift fist to the nads, at the same time he reached for the doorknob and opened the door. “Was all I’d do to you.” He slammed the door closed, twisting the lock, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Immediately, his attention went back to Shiloh. He ran back into the bedroom, reaching for her. “Shi? Shi are you okay? What did he do to you, how bad is it?” He wrapped his arms around her, murmuring, “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
(Source: ianandthestars)
He stood, his teeth clenched, lips pursed tight. He hated this, hated the men she brought home, heavy breathers with loud footsteps who were clearly more than twice her age. He hated standing powerless as they walked by, knowing what they would do to her. He took a deep breath, his expression changing from barely controlled rage to a soft, pleading look. “Please, Shi? We’ll find another way to get the money, we can sell our books or some of our clothes or- or anything-” he reached up and gripped both her arms, locking them together, “Just… don’t do this.” The unspoken endings hung in the air “…to me” “…to us” or “…to yourself”
Instinctively, he pulled her into a tight hug, one hand in her hair. He rested his chin on top of her head, closed his eyes, and just held her for a second. He could hear the man in the doorway shifting from foot to foot, clearing his throat quietly. His anger returned and his fingers balled into fists. Let him wait. Let him see what he’s destroying, he thought, and leaned his head down to whisper in her ear, trying to hide the rage in his voice, “please.”
Eden rolled her eyes instinctively as Ian tried to reason with her, trying very hard to ignore the pleading in his voice. She didn’t want him to know it got to her, because she knew if he knew he was making an impact, he’d use it, wouldn’t let her go through with this. Even as he tried to reason, she knew he was merely grasping, and he knew it too. They did this every time and it wasn’t going to change her mind.
She shook her head, opening her mouth to speak, before Ian was yanking her into a tight hug, clutching at her head and holding her as tightly and as completely as possible. Eden let herself bury her face in his shoulder and grip the lapels of his shirt as he held her, allowing herself the moment to feel safe and weak in her best friend’s arms. It was going to be at least another few hours until she’d be able to feel like this again, and she wanted to enjoy it while she could. The anguish in his voice as he plead with her once more was almost enough…almost. But when she pulled away, and her eyes were met with their pathetic excuse for a kitchen, dwindling food supplies, ratty clothes and even rattier furniture, she remembered her resolve.
“Annie, I have to,” she said quietly, gripping his hand. She only pulled that name out every once in a while, when she really needed it. He knew it too, that she only used it when she really wanted him to understand, when she really wanted him to know she loved him and understood him but she needed him to really listen to her.
But he wasn’t cracking, and she could see it. If he didn’t crack soon, she was going to lose the job. The man in the doorway already looked uncomfortable enough, like he was nervous to be doing this in the first place and now he was witnessing this, this very private moment and he seemed ready to call it quits and take off at any moment. Take off with the money he’d promised her. She wasn’t willing to let that happen, and she knew she had to crack Ian now while she still could.
“I have to,” she repeated a little more forcefully. “Like I said, we need the money. We’re living paycheck to paycheck, one paycheck, for three people, and AJ’s job is unstable enough as it is. I need to help in whatever way I can, and this is how I help. We need the money, Ian, you know it,” she began, sucking in a deep breath. “And it’s not like you’re working or anything, and I promised AJ when he let us move in that we would contribute, so I’m sorry, but I have to,” she finished, forcing determination into her voice and crossing her arms. That was a blow. A low blow, and she knew it. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying, he was, it was just incredibly hard for Ian to find a job, but he didn’t use that as an excuse, and still felt bad about the fact that he wasn’t bringing any income in. She had hit him where it hurt, and although the guilt weighing on her was so heavy now she thought she may collapse, she knew it would get what needed to be done accomplished.
As soon as she said it, he dropped her hand, a wave of guilt sweeping over him. He lowered his head, biting his lip. “No, I’m sorry.” he murmured. “It’s…” he stopped himself from saying “my fault”, suddenly aware of how long they had been standing in the kitchen, with her… client… watching from the door. He realized, just as she had, that the man was on the verge of leaving. He nodded curtly, doing his best to swallow his pride, and his anger, hunched his shoulders, and turned away, towards the door.
“Just…” he murmured quietly, too quiet for the man on the other side of the door to hear. “Be safe.” He grabbed his cane, snapped it out, and put his hand on the doorknob. Swallowing his anger hadn’t worked. There was still someone on the other side of the door that was capable of hurting the most important thing in the world to him. He turned back to her again, just for a second, about to tell her again to give it all up. But he didn’t. He turned back to the door in silence.
(Source: ianandthestars)
He smiled as she draped herself over him, reaching a hand up to rub her shoulder and resting his head on her arm. “You know.” he smiled, flipping the book closed. “Same one I’m always reading.” It was one of the three books he had tossed in his bag when he’d left home, and so far he hadn’t had the time or funds to get any more. It was something he was working on. He pursed his lips. Something was up with Shiloh, and he did know what. Or, at least, he didn’t want to think he did.
“Why would I want to visit AJ at work? He’ll just make me sit somewhere and read until he’s ready to go, which is what I’ve been doing all day, thanks, and I’m tire of…” He paused and stood up, squinting towards the door. “Shi, who’s out there? I heard…” He turned back to her. “Oh no, Shiloh. Not this, not again.”
Eden sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the counter, frowning. She knew Ian was going to be disappointed, she’d prepared for this, but it didn’t make her feel any less worse. “Look, Ian, can you please not do this right now? I’m working,” she said with a pointed look towards the door where the man was lingering slightly, creeping closer to the doorframe inch by inch.
“I’m sorry, I know you’re pissed, but it’s really not a big deal and you get all worked up over nothing.” She watched Ian, knowing he wasn’t really taking in much of what she was saying, was too caught up with whatever he was feeling at the moment, which she honestly wished she could understand better.
“Look, listen,” she said, crossing to him and stepping close, practically whispering so her client wouldn’t hear. “We are in no position to be passing up money right now. I have an opportunity to make $400 tonight. That’s enough to get us by for at least three weeks, I am not just going to ignore that. I’m sorry you’re annoyed or whatever but can you please just let it go?” she hissed, gripping his arm as if it would send her message any clearer.
He stood, his teeth clenched, lips pursed tight. He hated this, hated the men she brought home, heavy breathers with loud footsteps who were clearly more than twice her age. He hated standing powerless as they walked by, knowing what they would do to her. He took a deep breath, his expression changing from barely controlled rage to a soft, pleading look. “Please, Shi? We’ll find another way to get the money, we can sell our books or some of our clothes or- or anything-” he reached up and gripped both her arms, locking them together, “Just… don’t do this.” The unspoken endings hung in the air “…to me” “…to us” or “…to yourself”
Instinctively, he pulled her into a tight hug, one hand in her hair. He rested his chin on top of her head, closed his eyes, and just held her for a second. He could hear the man in the doorway shifting from foot to foot, clearing his throat quietly. His anger returned and his fingers balled into fists. Let him wait. Let him see what he’s destroying, he thought, and leaned his head down to whisper in her ear, trying to hide the rage in his voice, “please.”
(Source: ianandthestars)
Ian sat at the rickety little table in the kitchen, idly twirling his spoon around in the styrofoam cup of soup that had been his dinner for the fourth time this week. His fingers grazed the raised bumps of a book he’d read and re-read too many times, reading the same sentence over and over again. He kicked his foot against the leg of the table, a slow steady rhythm that matched the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and wondered if this was what it felt like to slowly go insane.
He sat there for another five minutes, until the noodles were nothing more than an inch of lukewarm filmy broth and the sentence he was reading was swimming around his head like the lyrics of a half forgotten song. Abruptly, he stood up, the chair’s legs screeching in protest against the linoleum floor. He took two strides towards the door… Before he heard the footsteps on the landing. He turned and sat back down, trying to look absorbed in what he was doing, just in time for the door to creak open.
Shiloh felt guilty. She felt guilty, which she hated, because she really shouldn’t, she was only doing this to help them out, but Ian was the only person in the world who could make her feel like this, even if she was completely convinced she was doing the right thing. And she was.
Yet, as she made her way up to the apartment she shared with AJ and Ian, a slightly (okay, not slightly, very) skeezy 30 or 40 something trailing behind her, eyeing her like she was a piece of meat as she tried to surreptitiously pull her shirt up because she knew Ian knew which shirt it was and why she was wearing it…she felt the guilt crawling over her and seeping into her skin with every step she took. Ian was going to be disappointed. Very disappointed. He always was. He hated the nights when she ’worked’ and she knew that, but she couldn’t justify why. She was making them money, much needed money, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal.
As she and the man (Greg? maybe that was his name. Or maybe he just looked like one) reached her door and she pulled her key out of her bra, she planned what she was going to say. She really didn’t want Ian to be mad at her. But it was sort of unavoidable. She felt the man slip an arm around her waist as she unlocked the door and she immediately flinched, shrugging him off.
“Hold on, big boy,” she laughed awkwardly. “At least wait ‘til we get inside…actually, would you mind waiting here for one second? Thanks,” she finished, not waiting for an answer, slipping through the door with a perfected sultry smirk towards her ‘client’.
She found Ian sitting at the counter, a book laid out on the counter that she knew he’d read a million times already. She rolled her eyes fondly.
“Hey, I. Whatcha reading?” she smiled as she crossed the room, sidling up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, nuzzling behind his ear. She knew the over-affection was going to tip him off, but if it would mean he would be less mad at her, it was worth it.
She sucked in a deep breath and, even though it was Ian she was nervous about, she felt herself draw herself a little tighter against him, subconsciously seeking his comfort. Like always.
“Hey, would you mind going and visiting AJ at work or something for a little bit?” she asked sweetly, trying not to come across as cautious as she knew she was.
He smiled as she draped herself over him, reaching a hand up to rub her shoulder and resting his head on her arm. “You know.” he smiled, flipping the book closed. “Same one I’m always reading.” It was one of the three books he had tossed in his bag when he’d left home, and so far he hadn’t had the time or funds to get any more. It was something he was working on. He pursed his lips. Something was up with Shiloh, and he did know what. Or, at least, he didn’t want to think he did.
“Why would I want to visit AJ at work? He’ll just make me sit somewhere and read until he’s ready to go, which is what I’ve been doing all day, thanks, and I’m tire of…” He paused and stood up, squinting towards the door. “Shi, who’s out there? I heard…” He turned back to her. “Oh no, Shiloh. Not this, not again.”
(Source: ianandthestars)
Ian sat at the rickety little table in the kitchen, idly twirling his spoon around in the styrofoam cup of soup that had been his dinner for the fourth time this week. His fingers grazed the raised bumps of a book he’d read and re-read too many times, reading the same sentence over and over again. He kicked his foot against the leg of the table, a slow steady rhythm that matched the ticking of the clock on the mantle, and wondered if this was what it felt like to slowly go insane.
He sat there for another five minutes, until the noodles were nothing more than an inch of lukewarm filmy broth and the sentence he was reading was swimming around his head like the lyrics of a half forgotten song. Abruptly, he stood up, the chair’s legs screeching in protest against the linoleum floor. He took two strides towards the door… Before he heard the footsteps on the landing. He turned and sat back down, trying to look absorbed in what he was doing, just in time for the door to creak open.
Ian chuckled. “Presumptuous. It means like, assuming. As in, it was rude to assume that you were a… you know.” He gave ha half smile. “Sorry. English geek slipping out.” He nuzzled his head against hers. “I’m not Daredevil, sweetheart. My fingers aren’t that sensitive.” he chuckled. “But… That’s sweet. Really sweet. Your brother sounds like a pretty cool guy.” He wanted to say more. Something about the world not being as terrible as she thought it was, or… something. He contented himself with twirling a lock of her hair around the fingers of the hand that still rested on her shoulder.
“And now, I am certain that it’s your turn to ask about me.”
“I know what it means,” she grumbled sleepily, not even sure if he heard her. “I’m just too tired to make my brain work tonight.”
“He is cool,” she murmured quietly, squeezing the hand she still had a hold on. “I miss him sometimes,” she sighed.
She rolled her head on his shoulder, squinting up at the other boy, trying to pick something to ask about. She vaguely remembered noticing something while discussing things with Ian at the shelter, and figured now was as good a time as any to ask. She lifted her finger and poked the small scar on his lip.
“What about that? What happened there?”
He poked his tongue out and ran it over the small scar. “I used to have a lip piercing there. I was fifteen and stupid, and it wasn’t done well, I got it at a party and the girl who did it was more than a little stoned. It was worth it, then, to come back and hear my dad trying to control his rage about it.” He laughed. “Anyway, a few months after I got it, I got into a fight at school. There was this guy… I’ll spare you the details. Rude insults were exchanged, feelings were hurt, fist fighting ensued. I can hit pretty hard when I want to, don’t look like that. He was wearing… I think it was probably his dad’s class ring or something, but it got caught on the lip ring and ripped it right out. Blood everywhere. I ended up with a pretty bad black eye and a cut up lip, but he got a broken nose for his trouble, so I think I won.” He grinned.
“My dad was hilarious, picking me up that day. Trying to be stern in front of the principal, but also proud that I held my own and delighted the lip ring was gone…” he trailed off. “Yeah.” He finished lamely. He twisted his wrist around to skim his fingers along the side of her face. “What about this?” he asked, touching the scar near her right eye.
He paused, biting his lip. “Shit happens to everybody.” he shrugged, twisting the rings on his fingers, rubbing his thumb along the large cool stone of his uncle’s ring. “I’m sorry I called you a prostitute. It was rude and presumptuous.” This was weird. He hadn’t gotten into a conversation deep enough to admit he was wrong in… a long time.
He twisted his hand to intertwine their fingers, the metallic clinks of their rings knocking together suddenly the only sound in the house. “All right…” he moved his fingers over each of hers, pausing on one ring that had some sort of pattern inlayed in the band. He couldn’t tell what it was. “What about… this one? And if it’s not a happy story, you don’t have to tell it.”
“It’s okay,” Eden murmured in return, more than anything grateful he wasn’t entirely disgusted by her. She sighed, snuggling closer. “It’s too cold and I’m too tired for your extended vocabulary right now,” she grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Moving on.”
She smiled as he selected the silver band around her pointer finger with an engraving written across it. “Not many of them are happy stories, so if we’re playing by that rule, the game’s gonna be over pretty soon,” she joked. “But this one isn’t ‘not happy’. Just…not sad, either. A little of both.”
She shifted, turning the ring around and around on her finger. “My brother gave it to me the day my parents kicked him out and disowned him. He said he’d been saving it for my 18th birthday, but, considering he wasn’t sure if he was ever gonna see me again, he wanted me to have it. I was 14,” she continued, smiling slightly as she read the engraving.
“Can you tell what it says?” she asked reverently. “With strength in your soul and love in your heart, make this world your own,” she read. “He was sort of a total cheeseball in case you couldn’t tell. Kind of like you,” she added, grinning.
Ian chuckled. “Presumptuous. It means like, assuming. As in, it was rude to assume that you were a… you know.” He gave ha half smile. “Sorry. English geek slipping out.” He nuzzled his head against hers. “I’m not Daredevil, sweetheart. My fingers aren’t that sensitive.” he chuckled. “But… That’s sweet. Really sweet. Your brother sounds like a pretty cool guy.” He wanted to say more. Something about the world not being as terrible as she thought it was, or… something. He contented himself with twirling a lock of her hair around the fingers of the hand that still rested on her shoulder.
“And now, I am certain that it’s your turn to ask about me.”
