twenty seven

odette: that was a little extreme, don't you think?

celine: if she doesn't clean up, she's not getting fed. simple.

odette: if you don't stop bitching, you aren't getting laid. simple.

Andy had found home, in a man whom she could never feel she truly deserved.

Sat in the passenger seat of a rust bucket they'd both picked up on the highway, found at the side of the road unattended and with her supreme lock-picking skills and hot-wiring had them up on the road in no time. He'd been hitch-hiking, just had she when they'd met on opposite sides of the road many months ago. Every day they'd walk a little more, both on opposite sides and would converse over the dusty trails in which their feet would take them. She was running, he was seeking. Maybe it was the fact that he'd been offered over a dozen lifts in the past month by girls on roadtrips or hefty blokes in need of a little help on their way across work that made her slightly jealous; people wanted him, that much was sure and with the kind eyes he saw the world in, why wouldn't they?

Andy was harsh; it hadn't been a tough life, but it hadn't been easy and in search of new leads, she'd set out alone. At first they'd all called, offered to find her and bring her home.. but they never understood. She didn't want her old life. She didn't need money throwing at her when there was no love behind their gestures. She needed something real to hold on to and as the superficial mask began to slip, she could only see the ugly truth remaining. That was where he was different though. He'd not been raised with all that much money, survived on a loving family and friends that would jump for him at any given notice. You could tell by the love he held and the hope he cherished. Much like Yin and Yang, he could only see the brighter side of life and at first, his optimism had been unnerving and slightly aggravating.. but the farther they walked together, the more comforting she found it.

It was in the last few weeks she'd crossed the road. Approached the stranger she knew all too well and continued to walk by his side; the closer they became with their words, the warmer she felt by his side. They'd hitch-hike together, claiming couple status if the other was refused and chose to carry on in each other's company from then on in. Late-night diners and seedy motels, she'd use her father's investments and he'd scrape by with the little he had. Sometimes they went hungry, not because Andy couldn't feed herself, but because he'd all-out refuse to take her money and so in guilt, she learned to not eat just as he did. It was silly really and within the next few weeks with the weight dropping from his frame, she'd practically pinned him down and force-fed him. Andy was convinced it was what friends did, but the label she put on their friendship didn't quite emphasise how much he meant to her. 

The night they found the Jeep was perhaps one of the best nights of her life. He'd stood by and watched, amazed, as the small blonde had become consumed with fixing the vehicle. With the little water they'd got, she poured into the radiators and within a matter of minutes, the dirty old lurcher was hobbling to life. Sure, the front left tire was flat, one of the brake lights were smashed in and the driver window was stuck open.. but it was a blessing from walking on hot coals all day with their feet sore and throbbing. They took it in turns - rarely sleep had been a friend and even in the motels they'd managed to come by on the cheap, they were too wired thinking of how to survive the next day for slumber. Her legs on the dash in the warm sunlight of May, breeze from the window flowing through the air, her spirits had never felt more lifted than here with him. Free, whatever they wanted to do whenever they wanted. 

Cheap, dirty motel room. 17B.

She'd spotted him across the bar and for once, had seen the filth and crude in his eyes before he'd even offered her a drink. His dark eyes meeting hers, he nodded toward the door of the bar, tipping the dregs of a bottle into his slack mouth. Draining her clear confidence, olive was popped between her teeth before sweeping her coat from the stool beside her, heels clinking against tile until she hit the brisk air of the street. Refusing to even allow him a gaze of recognition, the blonde retrieved the keys to her rented room and jangled them in the air - her indication that there was a room available, should he be following by the time she arrived at her temporary domain. 

The stairs were minimal, but she heard the dull footsteps behind her as she climbed higher to her place, unlocking the door and leaving it swinging as her satin dress was slowly unzipped as she strode toward the bedroom. The skimpy red number matched her lips and her underwear; lace, barely there and more than complimentary against her porcelain skin. Dress dropped, her skyscraper stilettos lead the rest of the way there. She was hungry for this. As she turned to perch on the bed, the figure was quick on his heels, shirt tugging over his head as the door was kicked to a close behind him. His was sculpted.. and genuinely beautiful. Soft brown hair, chiselled features and striking eyes as he searched her body of imperfections.. and found none. Such a shame. Climbing above her, she felt the urging bulge against her exposed thigh, stockings gently pulling on their suspenders as she writhed beneath him. Lips finding hers, the kiss was heated and needy. He smelt of liquor. His hands roaming as hers pulled at the innocent locks he'd teased into place, there was little time to waste between the two.

Unbuttoning his slack jeans, her hands made little work as he smoothly removed her bra and allowed her breasts to fall freely.. then he sat a moment and admired before her hands returned hungry and lustful to him, pulling him back down to her. In moments were was minimal underwear left and as he ground into her soft flesh, she took only moments to switch positions, power-hungry and dominating as her legs straddled his hips. Leaning forward, a hand placed aside his head, her other hand took hold of his and positioned it on her hip, urging him to grip her back into the moment. She guided him into her and as she felt him, realised he was far bigger than anyone she'd ever had. Rocking against him, they became animals, biting and clawing, moaning. It was euphoric, possibly the best she'd ever had. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head, she could hardly contain herself before her orgasm rippled through her body, rocking her into pleasure. 

Unfinished, he continued to rock into her, though the blonde had come down from her high and had remembered what she was here for. As his fingers bruised her rosy skin, her body agreed with his needs and followed his lead, thrusting and rolling against his member until breathless murmurs told her his exact position. Then leaning down to press a heated kiss upon his gasping lips, her hand slid beneath the pillow to grasp at cold metal. Returning the seated position, she allowed a moment to observe the situation, his writhing body beneath hers before her hand came up and dragged the blade across his tan skin. Crimson billowing from his throat, chokes and gasps amid the pleasure of release, the brunette was too high to accept his fate and drowned in the liquid life that had been split from him. Climbing off his warm body, the blonde quickly slipped on a chiffon babydoll amid her heels before slipping the knife into her stocking and exiting the room; the motel behind her in moments, she was back in her car and starting the engine before the city lights came oozing behind her.

She couldn't tell you how wondrous it was to finally free of that hell hole. Free of her demons, of the monsters that had plagued her all that time while she was only trying to find herself again. She'd met new friends, make enemies; she'd loved and she'd lost but the journey Mia had found herself on had only strengthened her into the woman she was today, stood at the kitchen sink in the warm sunlight as it filtered in through the window. Suds up to her elbows, the days dishes were slowly going through the process of being cleaned; Jenny was in the living room painting while her sister Claudia had curled up on the sofa to sleep. It had been a long night and Mia had had to nurse her until the tears had stopped. Daddy had paid a visit in her dreams.

Glancing at the newest plate in her hands, the ketchup smeared across the porcelain took her back to happier days in the Kingston kitchens.. to a time where both of her favourite men were still alive and well. Eric sat at the table, nursing an apple and taunting her where Kyle would remain in the cupboards with the flour and the eggs, ready for another messy day. Now they were both gone.. but she'd learnt to deal with the pain that occasionally reared it's ugly head. She had the girls and her memories; memories that she would keep alive in her mind and so long as they were there, Kyle and Eric would never die. As she glanced at the smiley face adorning the plate, she couldn't help but chuckle. Jenny. 

How the girls had grown since the accident. How well they'd adapted together and held on, accepted Mia as someone she wasn't. She couldn't feel more blessed to be called their mother, especially since neither were her own flesh; but oh, how she'd bleed for them. Everything would be dropped in the blink of an eye - she adored the two of them, right down to the wise creases in Jenny's eyes when she smiled that made her look so much older than she was.. and Claudia's loud laugh that would echo through the house despite her size. Though Jenny had moved on with her father's death, Claudia was occasionally troubled with the anguish of her missing father. Numerous times would Mia have gone to check on the girls to find Jenny nursing her younger sister to calm her.

But it was then in that moment, as the Sun seemed to intensify and Mia felt like she might in fact burn through the window, she saw his face. After all that time, wishing and believing Eric was there, she'd learnt to deal with the visions she occasionally saw; never of Kyle, though. Never of the boy she'd lost to the war, who'd been ripped from her before she could finally make something of their future together. She stood, nipping herself in the warm water for the pain to bring her back to reality.. but it didn't work. As she focused on the face she'd had etched into her memory, she noticed the worry and anxiety etched into his features. How afraid he looked - the pain rang through the bubbles and slowly it hit her that this was all real.. he was home.

Dropping the plate into the bubbles, water splashing the floor around her, she almost broke her back running to the floor and sliding through the suds. Shoving the door open to feel the warm breeze on her face, she couldn't quite believe he was stood at her gate.. but she couldn't convince herself further that it was all her imagination. Bounding down the garden path, almost tripping over her own feet, the gate was practically ripped open and as her arms constricted around him, she had never felt of anything more sure in her life.