#ansbtask004

Taking a sip of her drink, she turned to face someone who had decided to rest by the wall as well. "So, what do you reckon - 'hell yeah' or 'please get me out of here'? I`m doing a survey."

"I wish you'd hold me when I turn my back The less I give the more I get back Oh your hands can heal, your hands can bruise I don't have a choice but I'd still choose you"

It was just a kiss.

One bloody kiss. A kiss that shouldn't mean anything, but oh, how it did. In a heated press of lips against lips, it had opened a heavily guarded vault, spilling dangerous feelings into the open. Feelings that, until then, had been kept under close discretion, denied from existance time and time again. Then, in that one moment, they were no longer hidden. Like an exposed nerve, they lay vulnerable and real. No longer could they be cast aside by denial or claimed false. They existed, like a fatal weakness which had finally been revealed.

"Why?" the word slipped out of Malcolm's thoughts and out into the cold night air, directed towards no one save the sky and himself. Eyes cast up at the stars scattered across the heavens, he waited for an answer that wouldn't come. The sky couldn't answer that question, and neither could he. So he dropped his head to his hands, a frustrated groan escaping him. Why? Why couldn't he stop this from happening? Why couldn't he choose differently? Why did that one goddamn kiss drive him near to maddness? It refused to leave his thoughts during every moment of the day, and then, at night, it would haunt his dreams. He remembered everything about Tristan in that moment. His touch, his taste, the damn look in his eyes...it sent his mind reeling.

It was all too much. He didn't, couldn't, wouldn't feel this way. And yet...he did. He loved Tristan, and that thought alone was more terrifying that anything he had ever managed to think up. Love. The word made him lightheaded, and he had to tightly grasp the tree branch which he had perched on in order to ground himself. Love was weakness and vulnerability and everything he wasn't. 

More than anything, Malcolm wanted to reject this dangerous feeling, but he couldn't. And that was were all of the fear and panic, and anger resided. Not only could he not find a way to stop himself from loving Tristan, but he knew, that deep down...he didn't want to. He didn't want to stop, and he hated himself for that. For wanting this- for not wanting to stop loving Tristan. This man was his greatest weakness, and yet, his most trusted ally. The universe could turn on him, and there he would stand, waiting to follow his leader. But it was more than that, and it always had been. Malcolm cared for his most trusted Lost Boy, and there wasn't another soul in existence who could ever mean so much to him. And he hated that. He hated that he knew, without question, that Tristan was the most important person in the world to him. That, if a situation should call for it, he would risk his life for that man. He hated it- he hated him. 

And damn it all to hell, because he loved him more.

"Build a wall of books between us in our bed  Repeat, repeat the words that I know we both said.  When I jerk away from holding hands with you  I know these habits hurt important parts of you." 

Annora doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve. She doesn't show vulnerability, or allow emotions to get the better of her. But sometimes, regardless of how hard she tries, a crack forms in the wall she builds around herself. Dawn was able to push past every defense, every reason she could bright to light which explained why getting close to her would be a bad idea. And without warning, Annora had fallen in love with her. For some, love leaves a giddy and pleasant taste in the mouth, but not for her. It leaves only bitter truth behind, reminding her time and time again that her unstoppable feelings won't lead to anything but more pain.

So instead, she settles for an unbreakable friendship, and its enough. Its enough, until it hurts too much. Until Dawn is seen with several boys, a twinkle in her eye meant for someone that wasn't her. Every moment she sees her, or even thinks about her, her stomach ties itself in knots, heartbreak threatening to finally ruin her. But she won't let it- she can't let it. So she tries to cover it up, to move on. To only let sadness infiltrate her eyes when she knows that Dawn isn't looking. She is a friend, and nothing more. She speaks, acts, and damn well tries to think like a friend...but bit by bit, her walls are rebuilding. Fueled by the pain she tries not to feel, she slowly pushes the ache away from her heart, working to close off what Dawn had worked so hard to open up.

"I just want back in your head  I'm not unfaithful but I'll stray, when I get a little scared"

That day- the day she picked up the newspaper to find Dawn's name scrawled next to that of the local thief, that was the day that Annora truly recognized the feeling of hopelessness. Before, despite knowing that they could never be together in the way she dreamed of, there had been...hope. A small, meager ounce of hope. And perhaps it had been a childish dream, but it had been hope nonetheless. But after that day, it was as if someone had given her glasses, and she had realized just how painfully blind she had been. Sure, Dawn had talked of crushes, but rarely had there actually been someone else. She had though that, even if they were never more than friends, she could still keep the pain at bay. And the moment she laid eyes on that paper, and then upon her dearest friend, Annora wasn't sure anymore. That sense of hope seemed to fade into the background, leaving her with an odd feeling. And truth be told, she wasn't sure which was worse; to feel pain, or to feel nothing at all. 

She wishes she could rewind time- to go back to before, when reality hadn't knocked the wind out of her. There isn't anything she yearns for more, than to stop closing Dawn out. But she can't. She's scared. Sometimes, she's scared of ruining what they have, but other times...she's scared of continuing it. Of feeling her heart break a little more every time she sees that twinkle in Dawn's eyes. But fear isn't something that she'll give in to. Not for her, not for Dawn. Because Dawn is worth fighting for a thousand times over.

In your eyes I see the eyes of somebody I knew before, long ago

It was maddening, looking at her and seeing the face of the woman he loved, yet it not being her. Lacey, as much as she may have the same body as Belle, was not the same person and every second he spent around her made that painfully clear. 

I change shapes just to hide in this place But I'm still, I'm still an animal

That was his curse though. The others, Snow White, Charming, they were cursed to forget. Like Jefferson, it seemed his curse was to remember. Remember everything he had done in the forest, from the perspective of someone who did not have the Dark One's magic. Part of him abhorred it, hated what he'd done. Yet another part...another part craved it. Would do anything to hold that power again. To exert it over anyone he saw fit. But Belle wouldn't want that. She'd want him to use his powers for good. So would Bae. If he had his magic he was certain that Bae would want him to use it to help break the curse. To be a good man and do the right thing.

Broken. That's all he was. He was nothing but a broken man. And that's all the world saw when they looked at him. They saw the sad, pathetic drunk; the man who couldn't hold himself together without the help of the alcohol running through his veins. Without the clutch of a bottle in his hand, without his house filled with empty cans and bottles, his sins on display to anyone who would come by and visit him in his hours of need.

Ha. Not that anyone ever came in. Not that he was worthy of any attention by the public. He was broken. He was ruined. He was nothing to them. Something to be avoided at all costs; someone who had thrown every bit of his life away, lost it all at the bottom of a bottle.

But they didn't understand. They never saw the truth. They never saw the aching heart he carried with him. The bruised and shattered pieces of a soul that had been torn apart, with no one there to try and guide them back together. They never realized just how broken he truly was--how truly shattered he had been--to bring his life to this.

They simply watched. And they judged. And James let them.

Until he met her. 

I just want you to know who I am

Her touch soothed him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in ages. Her smile brought out his own, an interesting expression that he couldn't recall the last time was on his face. Her laugh made his own sound joyously in the streets, in his home, and his heart felt lightened.

The taste of her lips brought a passion back into his life, brought feeling back into his heart and soul. It touched those pieces that hadn't been encountered in so long. Touched his person to the very core. The shattered and broken part of him, the pieces that had lain forgotten and abandoned, she brought back to life with her understanding. 

Because she understood. She could see him. Know him. Even if the world couldn't, even if they couldn't, even if they judged--she knew what was right in front of her. She could see him. For what he was.

The shouting of his soul to be known, to be heard, to be loved, was finally heard.