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    The Consequences of Love

    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sat Apr 23, 2011 9:42 pm

    This is a story that has been brewing in my cranium for awhile...I got the idea from a one-on-one. Constructive criticism would be appreciated if necessary. As would telling me if you would like to see more.

    Newest Post: O6-2O-II

    My eyes snapped open at the sudden sound.

    Buzz! Buzz!

    Groaning, I pulled the mauve-colored sheets of my bed over my face.

    Buzz! Buzz!

    Being my easily-irritated self, I flung the covers off my body with a grumble and snatched my cell phone off the bedside table. It was a miracle the ‘talk’ button didn’t break when I clicked it.

    “Hello?” I asked groggily as I stared up at the ceiling. Hopefully the person on the other end could tell they’d disturbed me from my very-much-needed slumber.

    “Well, good morning to you too, babe!” the familiar deep voice from the other end said with a chuckle. I glanced at the caller ID. Blaine Harrison. Best friend since fifth grade. Beloved boyfriend. We’d started dating at fifteen. Then, in our junior year of high school, when I was seventeen, we’d gotten into a huge fight. We broke up, and a couple of weeks later my dad said that we’d have to move to Paris, France because of his job. It was a devastating time for me. And most likely Blaine too. Many things happened in Paris. Things that make my stomach twist to remember. But I finished high school in France. My family and I ended up moving back to our home town two years later after my senior class had graduated, when I was nineteen. Did I mention that we’d added a new member to our family? Well…more like I’d added a new member to our family.

    Mentally kicking myself, I shook the thoughts out of my head and gave a long yawn. He continued, “Or should I say afternoon? Since when does Amber Rousseau sleep in till two o’clock?” Blaine and I had gotten back together a few months ago, before we started going to the same university.

    “Since she gets two day off of college and her dorm was way too loud to even think of sleeping.” I replied, swinging my legs over the bed. I shuddered as my bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. Sighing, I rubbed my eyes. Compared to my dorm room, this bedroom at my parent’s house was heaven. I’d only been going to college for a few months now, but even though I lived on campus, it was nice to come home some weekends.

    “Oh, I see. Did she have a tough week?” Blaine asked.

    “She did. Three tests.”

    He gave a short laugh again, a laugh that always made me smile. “I’m sure you did fine.”

    “Let’s hope,” I said, standing up and looking in the mirror. I suppressed another groan at the sight of how pale I looked.

    “Well, I just called to check up on you since you didn’t call me last night. –“ Damn, I’d completely forgotten,”-But I have to go work for a little while.”

    “Sorry, Blaine.” I said, “Call me later?”

    “I will. Love you.” He said.

    “I love you too.” With that, I hung up, placing my phone back on the table before heading to my shower.

    After I’d gotten dressed and ready, I straightened my mid-back length black hair and brushed some mascara on my lashes that surrounded my violet-colored irises. Ready for breakfast, I began to walk out of my room, only to hear a noise. A very, very familiar noise.

    A baby’s cry. Down the hall. Hurriedly, I turned to the left and walked to the room next to my parents’. The six-month old baby boy was sitting up, chubby little arms poking through the bars of his crib. His black curls stood up in every which way, and his large green eyes were wide and wanting. Everyone had been fooled into thinking that he was my mother’s child.

    “Oh, Charlie,” I said quietly as I plucked him from the crib and held him against me. He instantly became quiet. I began to sway back and forth slowly when I heard muffled voices from my parents’ room. I concentrated, trying to decipher their words.

    “Yes, I’m positive! I just got word from his mother.” I heard my father say in a hushed tone.

    “But I don’t understand why his parents allowed him! They know what this could do to Amber,” my mother replied quickly. Now, I became concerned, my arched eyebrows furrowing. What in God’s name were they talking about?

    “They couldn’t stop him. He’s applied for the university already and moved out. He’ll be here in a matter of days.” said my father.

    “No. No. This can’t happen,” I could barely hear my mother.

    “It already has, darling. I’m sorry. There is nothing I can do. Louis is coming.”

    His last sentence made me freeze. Everything stopped. All the voices. My breathing. My swaying. And my heart.

    He is coming.

    How? Why?! I tried to remember how to move, but couldn’t.

    Louis du Ponte is coming. The twenty-year-old man that I had met in France. The son of my father’s best friend. The man that I’d fallen in love with. The one who- because of me- had a part in changing my life forever. The one who I had told to stay away, no matter who much he begged me. It would be easier for Charlie this way. Easier for me.

    The father of the baby that I held in my arms. My baby. The baby who everyone- including Blaine–thought was my little brother.

    And Louis was coming.

    Tell me if you want more. Razz

    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:47 pm; edited 1 time in total
    Brandy Maxy
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Brandon on Sat Apr 23, 2011 10:00 pm

    I like. Smile

    I've lived by their rules my entire life.
    I've protected them. Envied them...and for what?!

    To be treated like an animal!
    We are not animals!
    Is this what you want?! We can be slaves, or we can be...
    Running wolf AMX logo Hug attack
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Apr 24, 2011 1:56 pm

    Why couldn’t I get my lips to form words? Why couldn’t I breathe? I tried desperately to do so, in fear of fainting with Charlie in my arms, but failed. It wasn’t until I heard someone walking down the hall that I finally snapped out of it.

    I took in a huge gulp of air, feeling horribly light headed. Hastily, I calmed myself, putting Charlie back in his crib. He gave a small pout as I sat him down before turning to play with one of his toys. I was still breathing hard, long-fingered hands clutched to the frame of his crib. My
    palms were becoming damp with sweat when I heard the door creak open behind me.

    “Cheri?” I heard a deep, accented voice ask. For a second- just for a second –I thought it was him. I saw those dark, thick curls and his sun-kissed skin. I saw those piercing jade green eyes rimmed in thick, black lashes and that chiseled face. I remembered his tall built that had always loomed over me whenever he stood close, those hard sleek muscles. My pulse beat in my ears threateningly. As I turned around, I could feel my sanity slipping out of my reach. ‘No, he can’t be here. That isn’t possible’, I told myself.

    And it was only my father. I was amazed how I could keep my relief from spilling out of me. I choked back the loud breath of reprieve, making it sound like I’d cleared my throat. And just like that, I switched on my façade. Eyes wide but clear, eyebrows raised slightly in question, dark lips set. My expression revealed nothing. I have to admit, I’d gotten really good at holding a mask. I could even keep things from my parents now. Well, mostly just my mother.

    My father leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his dark blue shirt. His brown hair was neatly trimmed, but you could still see the streaks of silver in it. Those grey-heather eyes that were exactly like mine scanned my face. Small wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, but I held strong. This stare down lasted no more than five seconds, but it felt like eternity for me. “Oui?” I said mockingly in French. It was my second language, coming natural to me, but I didn’t have the thick accent like my father.

    “I see you’re finally up,” he said, suddenly relaxing his stance and giving a small smile, “What, were you going to sleep all day?”

    I sighed, releasing some of the emotion built up in me. But only some. “I was planning on it. And I was actually having pleasant dreams before I was so rudely interrupted.” I said as if Blaine was actually in the room. Of course it was just a joke, but a few more hours would have been nice.

    I realized then that my hand was still clutched on the wooden bar of the crib. I relaxed it and placed it at my side. All the while, my father watched my every movement. To anyone else’s eye, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But I knew him, because I was the same way. The only issue right now was that I couldn’t tell whether or not he knew that I heard them. Charlie cooed behind me.

    Both pairs of violet eyes went to the baby behind, but only for a brief second. This relaxed something in me. My heartbeat seemed to slow back into its normal pace.

    “Are you hungry? I made some sandwiches earlier.” He asked.

    “Definitely.” I lied, straightening up and walking past him to the stairs. He said nothing, but I felt his eyes on me.

    I made my way to the kitchen quickly and took a sandwich out of the fridge. I forced myself to take a few bites, thankful to be out from under my father’s radar. He’s suspicious. I wonder if they’ll actually tell me about…him. They’ll probably wait for what they think is the right time. And I’ll have to pretend to react to it. But maybe not. I could take it cooly. First, I have to plan this. But I need to get out of the house without being any more doubtful.

    From where I stood at the kitchen island, I saw my mother walk into the living room. At first, she didn’t see me, but when she did, she jumped. Typical Italian mother. Flustered, she exclaimed, “Oh, you’re up!”

    “Yes, yes.” I said, waving it away, “How many more people are going to say that to me today?” I couldn't help but be snarky.

    She made a ‘tsk’ noise, moving her tan, manicured hands from her tiny frame to her mass of black, wavy hair. I could tell she was trying to hide her anxiety. She nervously fluffed the pillows on the couch, brown eyes darting everywhere as she wore her signature pout. The small lines around her mouth seemed to deepen as she opened it to speak. But that’s when she heard my father coming down the stairs. Her mouth snapped close as she continued to clean the already-spotless living room.

    Brushing my crumbs into the trashcan nonchalantly, I watched them make brief eye contact. My mother gave a sharp nod, while my father shook his head lightly with a roll of the eyes. She was never good at being inconspicuous.

    Just as I heard the words, “Honey, I-“ come from her mouth, my father interjected.

    “-Amber, we need some things from the store. Especially for Charlie. Can you do it for me?” he asked, setting a list next to me while walking to the pantry. My mother’s face went cold with frustration. But I couldn’t find the laughter inside me that usually would’ve showed.

    So he knew. I gave a fake sigh, thankful to have an excuse to leave, “Sure.” I answered calmly and headed for the door .Something menacing was pounding on the walls of my façade. They weren’t going to hold much longer. All was silent behind me as I grabbed my keys. It wasn’t until I was halfway out the door that I heard my mother exclaim something in a whispered voice and my father sigh.

    Hurrying off to my dark silver sedan, I readily buckled up and sped off down the street. But I barely made it out of the neighborhood before I had to stop.

    My hands were shaking violently on the steering wheel as I sat on the side of the road. Hard, deep breaths were catching in my throat, and I was scared of fainting again. The loud heartbeat returned, muffling all sounds around me. And they came.

    The tears. They spilled down my cheeks hot and fast, probably turning black because of my mascara. I gave choked cries that burned the back of my throat. This can’t be happening. I’m dreaming, I’m up in my room sleeping. But in my heart, I knew I was awake. A loud curse of anger came from my mouth as I banged my hands hard against the steering wheel. I was glad I was alone, but no doubt someone had probably heard me. Then, in defeat, my bruising palms went to my face, clutching my hair and covering my eyes as I continued to sob.

    This would be the end of me. How could I go through this?
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Apr 24, 2011 8:22 pm

    Green. That’s all I saw. Alluring shades of green. I realized that I was looking into someone’s eyes. His eyes. Louis’s eyes. Even though it was night, I could see the vivid hues.

    It was cold and dark where we sat. The Eifel Tower glowed brightly in the distance, as did all of Paris. But it was quiet in this little park on the bench. Though I was wearing only my jeans with a fitted black hoodie and a dark grey scarf, I was warm. And I knew it was because of him. I was shuddering though, but not because of the breeze. Because his lithe fingers had just grazed mine accidently. I looked up, even though I told myself that it would be a mistake to do so. How many times in the past months since leaving Blaine and my hometown had I told myself that I’d never love again? How many times?

    Why couldn’t I remember? Louis had broken down the fortress I’d built around my heart, peeling back stone after stone just to get to it. He’d been chipping away at it all night. Very successfully. Though it ached to think of Blaine, those eyes seemed to melt everything away. Green. Green fighting away at the blackness I’d created. I didn’t even think that it was possibly. I could tell that I was getting lost in them now.

    He stared back at me. I could feel the warmth radiating from him. How was he only outside with a long-sleeved shirt on? The cold has always bothered me, I wasn’t very tolerant. And yet, it had no effect on me now, though the tip of my nose and cheeks were probably bright pink, my eyes watering from the wind, and teeth chattering every now and then.

    He broke the silence, even though he hadn’t needed to. His deep, thickly accented voice was quiet, for only me to hear, “I have never felt this way about anyone. In my entire life, cheri.” His English was perfect, though he rolled his ‘r’s alluringly. I looked down slightly, at our hands lying next to each other. One hand pale and long-fingered, with almond shaped nails. The other lightly brown and larger, also with long fingers but graceful for being masculine. I didn’t want to get lost in the green any further, so I kept concentrating on our hands.

    He continued, “Every time I touch you, it is like fireworks exploding here,” the hand that I’d been staring at moved to his chest as he tapped in the direction of his heart. I turned slightly to watch him. The fabric of his shirt clung perfectly to his sleek, muscular frame. I found myself looking longingly at it. “Every time-“ his hand came towards me, but I couldn’t find the heart to move away. I was inviting it. “-I lose track of what I’m thinking.”

    I felt soft, hot pressure on my temple. His hand trailed down softly to my hair. Louis tucked a dark lock of it behind my ear before his fingers continued to trace my jawline. Over and over I felt the warmth move from my chin and up to my temple. I hadn’t even realized that I’d closed my eyes. A tingling sensation was buzzing through my entire body. Every nerve shouted at me to move closer to him, to feel the whole of his warmth. But I enjoyed the soft sensation of his hand.

    And it stops all of the sudden, leaving me wanting to beg for more. So I opened my eyes slowly and tipped my head up. He loomed over me, looking down. And my gaze was met with green. His hand hovered near my face and he had turned to move closer. His chiseled lips were set and serious, but also soft. His eyes…oh, his eyes. Rimmed with dark lashes, they had a child-like yearning to them. He was asking permission. He was asking to do what he wanted to a long time ago, but he knew that it hadn’t the right time then. He knew the pain that I went through. But now…but now. His scent was intoxicating me because of his proximity.

    I could hear my pulse in my ears, feel it in my hands at my sides. Everything was quiet except for our breathing, it seemed. I couldn’t find words to tell him what do to. And all it took was one signal for me. One signal, that deep, deep down I’d wanted to give. But I’d never found the heart to do. Slowly, I blinked. Then was surrounded by his smell.

    His hand went into my hair and clasped the back of my neck. I felt him pulling me gently upwards to him. I’d already closed my eyes when I felt velvet barely touched my lips. Our hot breath mingled as we paused there, lips scarcely touching. Then he whispered something.

    “I’ve found you.”

    My soft gasp was cut short when his lips meshed against mine. I could hear him intake a sharp breath, as if he had just been taken by surprise also. Emotions exploded through me, the rock wall surrounding my heart shattered. My hands went to his chest, pulling him towards me by his shirt. His other hand when to the other side of my neck. We continued to try and get closer, and you couldn’t even fit a piece of paper between us. Hungrily, our mouths melted and twisted together as I was surrounded by heat and his smell. I laced my fingers into his thick, dark waves and my lips parted, inviting him in. Our tongues swirled together as the kiss turned softer, more passionate. It felt as if we were the only people on Earth. This was heaven. Absolute heaven.

    ~Blaine’s POV~

    Why wasn’t her car in her driveway? Why isn’t she answering her cell? Maybe I should’ve just asked her parents? It’s been hours.

    All of the worries in my head were screaming at me. Id’ been driving around and looking for Amber for three hours. Anxiously, I flicked the golden hair out of my eyes. Where could she be? She never does this. Not anymore. She swore that she wouldn’t ever again. Her car wasn’t in her driveway. Wasn’t in her dorm parking lot. Where is she? Usually, I’m not the over-protective type. But I can’t risk losing her again.

    As I sped down the road in my convertible, my hands clutched the steering wheel. My eyes scanned all around me. It was nine o’clock. What if she’s left me again? What if-

    A glimmer of dark silver gleamed to my right as I drove out of the neighborhood. I slammed on the brakes. There. Park on the side of the road: Amber’s car. How had I not seen that before? Hastily, I parked behind it and jumped out of my car. Please be there, please be there.

    A sigh of relief escaped my mouth as I looked into the driver’s seat window. There she was. Sleeping. And as beautiful as ever.Her head was slumped back, her eyelashes making fans on her cheeks. She breathed softly on the other side of the glass. I hated interrupting her, but my hand went to the window.

    ~Amber’s POV~
    TAP, TAP!

    For the second time today, my eyes snapped open. And for the same reason: Blaine. I hadn’t even jumped. His darkly tanned hand was still on the window, honey brown eyes peering at me with concern.

    Honey hadn’t been the color I was expecting. I’d been looking at green moments ago. I was lost in green, enveloped in it. In a warm musky smell.

    But now I was cold. It was dark. And the only thing I smelled was the fabric of my car seats. I yawned. How long had I been sleeping? My tired eyes went to my watch. 9:02 P.M. Wow. I was too confused, too tired, to be upset about Louis right now. About the dream. Good.

    My hand went to the ‘unlock’ button on my car door. But before I could even open the door, Blaine had done it. And I was warm again as his arms surrounded me. Another sigh-like yawn came from my lips as I rested my head on his shoulders.

    “You had me worried, you know that?” he asked as I felt his lips in my hair. All I could do was snuggle closer. He was so warm. So strong. And he smelled so good. No, a different kind of warm. A different kind of smell. But very comforting.

    “C’mon. Let’s get you home.” He lifted my feet off the ground, holding me as I slumped against him. His rumble of a voice was the last thing I heard before I fell into the soothing darkness of sleep again.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Mon Apr 25, 2011 2:26 pm

    Softness. All around me. And I was warm. So comfortable. Though I was awake, I didn’t want to open my eyes. I gave a sigh of content and rolled to the side. But what I lie across now didn’t feel like a bed. It was hard, very warm, and moving. Breathing. I knew by his smell who it was. I tilted my head up and opened my eyes and was greeted by a gorgeous, tanned male with a wide grin of bright, white teeth and warm brown eyes. What a beautiful sight to wake up to. Not to mention that various candles strewn about my room were lit, giving my room a soft glow.

    “Man, you sure do love your sleep.” Blaine said softly, though his voice rumbled below me.

    I rubbed my eyes lightly, “I see you lit my candles.”

    That dashing smile was still there, “They were just asking to be lit.”

    “Oh, I see. This wasn’t another one of your diabolical romance set-ups?”I asked quirking up an eyebrow before yawning.

    “I’m not saying anything,” he said, putting up his large, strong hands before placing them behind his head.

    With a tiny groan, I pushed myself up into sitting position. “What time is it?” I asked, looking past my window seat. It was drizzling lightly outside in the darkness.

    “Eleven forty-five P.M.” He flicked a lock of golden hair from his eye.

    “Where’s my car?” Everything was fuzzy.

    “In the garage.”

    “Hmm.” I said quietly, then looked down. My jeans and long-sleeved shirt were gone. Replaced by cotton shorts and a tank top. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow at Blaine. “And my clothes?”

    “Jeans aren’t that comfortable to sleep in.” a smirk was building on his lips.

    “So you re-dressed me?” I said with a slight smile.

    A devious grin appeared on his face, followed by an exaggerated wink. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

    “Damn,” I whispered, “I don’t even remember that.” I ran a hand through my hair, a sudden thought hitting me. Yes, my parents were okay with me dating Blaine. But being up in my room with me alone? Candles lit? De-clothing?

    “Parents?” I asked seriously.

    “They had to go to work. Emergency apparently.” Oh. The perks of having parents in the medical field. “Won’t be back till morning.” I felt a warm hand go underneath my shirt and trace my spine. I tried to hold back my tiny shudder of pleasure, but failed.

    Back to business. “Charlie?” I asked a little more panicked.

    A deep sigh sounded behind me as the hand continued to linger “Sound asleep. Your parents were about to call a baby sitter when I came up to the door with you. Since you were sleeping, they left me in charge. You mother was…a little reluctant. But, I mean, who can deny my charm?” He said jokingly. I could tell he was smiling without even looking at him. “Am I done being questioned, officer?"

    I narrowed my eyebrows before turning to look at Blaine, “I was just being - Hey!”

    I was cut short by strong arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me back. He gently led me on top of him. My knees settled on the bed next to each side of his hips. My hands went to his hair as we looked at each other. I played with the pieces around his face. He did the same, brushing back long locks of my dark hair that hung across his chest as I hovered my face above his.

    Blaine brought my lips down to his and a frenzy started in my brain. As our lips molded together and I clutched him closer, a deep moan came from his mouth. We were now surrounded in the warmth of longing that we’d experienced many times before. So I began to slip my hands under his fitted v-neck, fingers tracing over his ribbed abs and the smooth planes of his chest.

    He broke away, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Oh, no you don’t!” he exclaimed. A small yelp was all I had time to do before he’d flipped me over. His hard, long body loomed over my own, my back on the bed. ”Now it’s my turn.” he said, eyes wild with excitements and grin gleaming. I gave a sincere pout, playing my ‘I’m not amused’ eyes.

    “What in God’s name are you-“ I didn’t get to finish my words. “Nope!” he said, placing his finger over my lips, “You don’t get to ask any more questions. Time for your interrogation, Ms. Rousseau!” he whispered into my ear before grazing it with his teeth.

    I shuddered again, but narrowed my eyebrows. Oh, so he was going to play that way was he? “Really now? I don’t feel like giving answers.”

    “Hmm,” he said, straddling me, then sitting up. “Could I persuade you by doing this?” he asked as he reached for the hem of his shirt, then he peeled it off. In doing so, Blaine revealed his tan, god-like torso with a flashing smile. My heart fluttered, but I didn’t show it in my face. I nonchalantly twirled a piece of my hair, giving a fake yawn, “I’ve seen better.”

    Now it was his turn to glare. But I saw the devilish grin appear a moment later. “Alright. Wanna play tough? I can do tough.” He said, and suddenly, his face was inches from mine. Serious mouth. Mischievous eyes. Golden hair tousled, eyes gleaming, nose hard and straight, and jaw line sharp. He kissed both of my cheeks, before kissing from my temple to my chin. Then slowly my neck. My heart beat threateningly hard as I felt his hands on the bare skin of my waist.

    “Not impressed,” I said quietly in a sing-song voice. Yes, I am the most stubborn person on planet earth. All he did was look up tantalizingly, still planting kissed down my torso. When he pushed up the fabric of my tank top up to reveal my flat stomach, I started to panic a little. He kissed me right below my belly button with a maddeningly slow pace. Then he moved down his hands, lightly trailing past my shorts to rest on the outsides of my thigh. Damn. Damn him. I looked up, trying to hide a whimper of longing that threatened to escape. That’s when I felt his kiss me on my inner thighs.

    And I thought I would lose it. He kept kissing, and kissing. Oh, so slowly. My hands clenched into fists and my sides and I gave a small moan. Then he stopped. And I could feel him smile against the skin of my leg. I gave whimper of longing. He knew my weak spots.

    “Now,” he said, hands moving back up to trace my waist. But his mouth did not move. Oh, I was so getting him back for this, “Will you cooperate, love?”

    Sighing deafeatedly, I bit my lip and nodded. “Why were you sitting out in your car on the side of the road, sleeping?”

    “I wanted to get out of the house,” I said quickly, and that was no lie.

    “That’s not what your mother said. Apparently, you’d gone out to buy groceries hours earlier and hadn’t returned. But where were the grocery bags?” He continued to look up at me, lips lingering threateningly close. I remembered the “list” my dad gave me. I’d opened it up, only to find ‘Get some air. Take your time.’ scrawled in his handwriting on it.

    “I decided not to.” I said avoiding him gaze. I wriggled underneath him, but his hands kept me in place.

    He narrowed his honey eyes, then planted another kiss. “Not good enough.” I glared hard up at the ceiling. Then I felt another kiss. Two. Longer ones.

    Moaning in both grief and pleasure, my back arched up a bit. His hands tightened in response, “Please, please, please,” I whispered in a begging voice, “Stop torturing me.” I looked at him with pleading eyes. He smirked, then went right back to kissing.

    “Alright, alright!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone, then bit my tongue in fear of moaning again. He froze, then looked up, eyebrow raised.

    “I just wanted to be alone, okay?” I said, my hands going up to my face. I was usually never one to give in.

    “Something wrong?” he asked in all seriousness.

    “My mom was annoying me.” I lied with ease, “I honestly didn’t think that I’d end up falling asleep. I’m sorry for worrying you. Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I exclaimed, removing my hands. I banished all thoughts of Louis, forbidding them to enter my thoughts. “Satisfied?”

    Though Blaine’s eyes looked concerned, his smirk was triumphant. ”For now.” he said, before giving one last, quick kiss to my inner thigh.

    “You know,” I said, propping myself back on my elbows, “I hold grudges. You’re in for it now.” My arched eyebrow raised threateningly.

    “Bring it on, babe.” He whispered before moving up to kiss me again.

    My arms wrapped around his torso as we entangled in my sheets. And I could feel him grinning through the kiss as he hungrily ran his hands up my body.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Mon Apr 25, 2011 9:13 pm

    Tapping my foot impatiently on the floor, I glanced at my watch. 11:37 A.M. She should have been here thirty-seven minutes ago. Always late. She was always late. I bounced Charlie on my leg to the rhythm of my foot as I scanned the coffee shop for the hundredth time. Usually, I wasn’t this impatient. But I wanted to talk. I needed to talk. I had what I would say to her set straight in my mind like a plan. I’d wanted to tell her for a year and a half. Being alone at the most secluded table I could right now was definitely not the smartest idea. I didn’t want to be alone. Alone: where my thoughts could envelope me.

    Thank God Blaine had been there last night to occupy my attention. No, I hadn’t intended to use him as my distraction, but he did make it worthwhile. Each time that we made love, we seemed to connect on an even deeper level. Words can’t describe the way I feel when we reach our climaxes. It’s one of the best feelings in the world, I’m convinced. But now that I’d had a child, I’m very precautious. I take birth control pills every morning without fail. And if I know that there isn’t any possibility that either one of us doesn’t have protection, you can forget it. And he knows that. I’ve made it perfectly clear. He’s seemingly respectful of that decision. Because I don’t know what I’d do if I got pregnant again.

    I’d been lucky last night. Just thinking about it made me squirm in my seat and I had to hide my smirk. Because Blaine was so different from Louis. So different. He was wild, unpredictable. Spontaneous. But that wasn’t always a good thing. And he knew me so well. For so long. He could tell when I was lying. And it was a miracle that he hadn’t suspected anything, especially while his hands and lips lingered on my weak spots. I guess I was getting better at this lying thing. But I’m definitely not proud of it.

    I sighed, twirling a dark brown curl of Charlie’s hair between my fingers. There’s no going back now. My thoughts had overcome me.
    Louis. Oh, that name. The first time he’d introduced himself to me two years ago, I’d known the correct French spelling. Any other American probably would’ve spelt it ‘Louie’, but I knew from my father’s teachings that the ‘s’ was silent. Louis du Ponte. The name rolled off the tongue. I remember his thick, wavy head of hair, dark brown with flashes of auburn in the sun. It always used to fall in his eyes and neck. That sleek, graceful body. He stood at about 6’3”, towering over my height of 5’6”. His muscles were not overbearingly large, and they were almost catlike. His skin…lightly sun-kissed and glowing. That face. Oh, that magnificent fac. He could make women faint at the mere sight of it, and he knew it. But he was never boastful. Louis had the bone structure of a male model. Hell, of an angel. The first time that I’d seen it, I silently gawked, amazed that anything could be so perfect. It was embarrassing when I’d finally snapped out of it ,but he’d just quirked his lips up into a side grin. White teeth, chiseled lips. I didn’t want to think about those eyes. Those exact green eyes that my child had inherited. I’d been stubborn about Louis, never letting him get close to me. And he was very old-fashioned. He, like Blaine, respected my wishes. And it was absolutely maddening. Of course, I eventually gave in.

    Our fathers had gone to grade school and high school together in France. Mine had moved away from Paris to go to medical school in America. He met my mother shortly after and they married. Mr. du Ponte met his wife around the same time, but in Paris. They had Louis a year before me, but also had a daughter my age. And her name was Sophia. She had become a great friend while I lived in Paris. And she was actually happy that I was dating her brother. Sophia had once said to me: “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He has never actually loved someone this much. I was beginning to think that it wasn’t possible.” I’d blushed at that. But, like Louis, I’d cut off all contact from her. Of course she, again, like Louis begged me to be able to see Charlie. But I refused again and again. I’d hurt them both. But I thought it was for the best.

    The du Ponte’s and my mother and father were the only ones beside myself who knew Charlie’s true parents. But now…now that was about to change.

    The jingling bell on the café door shook me out of my reverie, and I looked up, becoming horribly on edge again. Just the person I’d been thinking about. Melissa Lovell. Flaming red hair cut a few inches below her shoulders, aqua eyes sharp and scanning. I’d always thought the girl I called my best friend had a fairy-like beauty. She had a cute, petite frame, and only stood at about 5’ 4”. I’d known her since the third grade, we’d been connected at the hip ever since. When I moved to Paris, she’d cried for days, as did I. But we called each other almost every week, constantly keeping in touch. When I moved back, our friendship went back to normal, and naturally, we attend the same college.

    She spotted me, and then skittered over to my table in the back in her emerald stilettos. Always trying to boost her height, that girl. “Ohhhhh my gosh!” she exclaimed as she sat down in a flurry of motion, “I’m super sorry! I lost my car keys *again* and had to search all over for them. Gahh, I feel so bad-” she continued talking a mile a minute while I handed her a coffee, “-Thanks! Oh, I hope you weren’t waiting long! I always do this-“

    “Mel!” I whispered with a smile. She caught herself, then laughed, “My bad. But really! I am sorry.”

    “You’re fine,” I said, trying to make myself relax. But I couldn’t. I was so nervous because of what I had to do. I wrung my hands underneath the table, still holding on to Charlie. I could see Mel’s eyes become concerned, but she knew not to pull what I had to say out of me. Again, another person knew me too well.

    “So,” she said, looking at the child on my leg, “I see you’re on baby-sitting duty.”

    “Mm-hmm.” I said quietly looking away.

    How do I do this? Will she be mad? Will she just storm out? I’ve kept this secret from her for a year and a half. There was no telling how she’d react. Neither of us said anything for a minute straight. And it felt like a year. My mouth flew open.

    “Look, I don’t know how to tell you. Every way I word it in my mind sounds so wrong. But I can’t think. I just can’t!” I blurted out, but not loud enough for people around to hear. Melissa’s face stayed perfectly the same, but she nodded. Ready.

    “He’s not my mother’s child.” I stated bluntly as I looked down at Charlie. He was glancing around at various objects, cooing occasionally. I held my breath, bracing for impact. Mel’s face didn’t change. At all. What the hell? Not even a blink.

    I continued. “He’s mine.” Nothing. Just a blank teal stare. “He’s Louis’s” I said more forcefully, clutching the table. Of course she knew who he was, but she’d never met him.

    Yet again, she stayed perfectly still. No yelling or screeching. No hands flying everywhere. Nada. “God damn it, Melissa! Say something!” I practically spat.

    She opened her mouth finally, and I prepared to throw out apology after apology. Explanation after explanation. But I never guessed what she would have said.

    “I know.”

    I was speechless as she settled back into her chair. I must’ve sat there for a minute with my mouth hanging wide open. “You,” I gasped, “Know?!”

    “Of course. How couldn’t I?” she replied calmly.

    “Wha-how?” I blubbered. I held myself together. We were in public. But I didn’t think that it was me who would be freaking out.

    She sighed and began, “When you and your family came back from Paris, I knew. You’d been acting sketchy and oddly quiet those nine months that ‘your mom was pregnant’. At first, I just waved it away as you having an issue with having a new sibling. But later on, I knew you were hiding something.” She paused, “You came home, your mother was holding Charlie the first time I saw you. Her body was in perfect shape. At the age of 43, there’s no way in hell. I’m sorry. You on the other hand, looked the same as you had. I’m guessing you worked out.” It wasn’t a question, but she looked at me. I nodded soundlessly, “But what gave you away is the way you looked at Charlie when he wasn’t in your arms. And, honey-please. No one in your family has those gorgeous green eyes.” She gestured to Charlie, “I’ve seen pictures of that god you call Louis. The eyes are dead on.” I cradled my hands in my face, groaning.

    “You mean you knew all of this time?” my muffled voice asked.

    “Yep!” she quirked, smiling briefly. I wanted to accuse her for not admitting it, but I knew I was to blame here.

    I sighed, thankful that this hadn’t gone downhill. But then thought of something, “Does anyone else know?” I asked, panicked as I referred to our group of friends.

    “Nope!” she piped again, “Just me. ‘Cuz I’m the only one smart enough to put the pieces together. And the only one who’ll keep your secret.”

    I sighed deeply. A huge load of tension was released off of my shoulders after all this time. But not nearly enough of it. We both took sips of our coffee, then I bounced Charlie on my leg again.

    “Well, wanna go do something?” she asked, but then paused, “Or is there something else that you aren’t telling me?”

    “Actually..” I began.

    “Oh no. Now what? I’d thought I’d gotten everything.” she interrupted.

    “No, no! This is the whole reason why I decided to tell you about Charlie. Even though, well,“ I gestured to Mel’s brain. She grinned for half a second, before her eyes gave me the ‘get-on-with-it’ look.

    “Louis is moving here. And going to college. At the same university.”

    Her mouth formed and ‘o’, “Well, sh*t.”

    I gave a mock laugh, “That doesn’t even come close to covering it!”

    She put a hand to her temple, “I didn’t see that one coming.” And paused. “We have things to plan for now, don’t we?”

    I sighed, “Unfortunately.”

    “Then let’s get to it.” She exclaimed, determination shining brightly in her eyes. This is why she was my best friend. All ways there. Ready to help. Her expression melted the tiniest fraction of my worries away.

    Last edited by Capri on Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:58 pm; edited 1 time in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:43 pm

    “I’m not sure if I can do this, Melissa.” I said, glancing at the mirror on the door of my dorm room. The slender girl with fair skin and wavy black hair down to her lower rib cage stared back at me anxiously. She was clad in a thin grey hoodie with dark jeans and fur-lined comfy tan boots. It was on the windy side today. And chilly.

    “Would you stop being a drama queen for five seconds and calm yourself?” my best friend called from my computer desk. She was scrolling down a page on my laptop, fiery hair twisted up into a ballerina bun on the top of her head. Like me, she was sporting the natural college look: Sweatpants and a matching hoodie and tennis shoes. We both had only mascara on our faces. Mel didn’t even look away as she clicked away.

    “Hey! If you only knew how this felt-“ she cut me off with, “Chill! Sorry.” My gaze was met with an aqua marine one. “Listen,“ she swiveled in the chair, becoming serious, “You’ll be fine. You’ve got the feisty one on your side, “ a finger pointed to herself, “And I won’t let him get to you.”

    I sighed heavily, closing my eyes and leaning against the wall. Honestly, I had absolutely no clue what to expect. And it was a horrible feeling. What would happen when I saw him? Or if he saw me? Like Mel had advised me, I shoved the man with hypnotizing eyes and a name that started with ‘L’ out of my head. Thinking about it would make the situation worse. Focus. It’s Monday morning. Just think about getting to class.

    “Plus,“ Mel added, “He probably doesn’t even know that you know he’s here. His parents weren’t supposed to call. No one has seen him on campus, because no doubt some giddy girl would be gossiping about fresh new French meat.” I hid my cringe, “So you have the element of surprise! Not him. He’s in for a rude awakening if he thinks he’s going to mess with Amber Rousseau.” She gave a devious smile. ‘If that’s what his intentions are.’ I added in my head. Although I was having a mental breakdown, I smiled at her.

    “Now. Remember what your parents said?” She asked. I nodded. How could I not? They had told me yesterday afternoon about…the ‘L’ word. Or more like I had told them that I’d overheard them.

    ‘“I knew it!”’ My mother had exclaimed. My father responded with a shake of his head and then put his arm around her. They’d gave me advice. Advice that I’d mostly lost, but still paid attention to. I was horribly worried about leaving Charlie there with them, but they’d assured me he’d be fine. I had to trust them. Because I didn’t know what the Frenchman had planned.

    “The kid’ll be fine.” Mel assured me as she snapped the laptop closed. “Come on, Ms. Predicament. Don’t want to be late for History.”

    She grabbed my hand and led me out of my dorm room -my safe dorm room- and into the hallway. Kids my age were hustling around, but slowly, sleepily. Who could blame them? It was almost nine in the morning. I was reluctant to walk down the hall beside her, and I felt as if I were scanning every face in this damned place. Instead, after taking the elevator to the lobby, Mel nodded to me before we walked into the brisk outdoors. At the same time, we both pulled our hoods up, then placed our hands into our pockets. I tucked my long hair into the hoodie, and ducked my head down, acting like I was bracing the wind. Damn you, sun. Why aren’t you out so I can wear my Ray-Bans? Mel, on the other hand, had her protective –more like keep-away—expression on. Most people didn’t even notice as we walked across the grass to one of the many buildings. When we finally entered the building, I let out a sigh of relief. Make it to classroom safely: check.

    “Thanks,” I muttered as kids started to file into the room. “Anytime, darlin’,” she replied quietly, “But we’re not out of the woods yet.” We climbed the stairs to take our seats in one of the middle rows. I didn’t search the faces that had already sat. The goody-goodies were down in the front, always early. And the why-am-I-even-bothering, yawning kids were in the back, earphones already plugged in.

    I sat down quietly. So did red-head. “He’s not here,” she said, taking down her hood. I kept mine up, and my hair inside. Many people did that, most likely out of laziness. I, on the other hand, had a plan to stick to. Out from under the radar. I gave a sigh of relief, and then watched the professor walk in. His balding head was gleaming, as always, bifocals down to the tip of his nose. It seemed as if all of the students were inside as Mr. Fortaw turned to shut the door – and it was quiet, saving for the slight murmur of voices - but a girl squeezed in before he could. She said something quickly to him, but he didn’t even recognize that she’d spoken. The girl seemed flustered, scanning the room quickly before taking a seat in the fifth row. I didn’t recognize her, but then again, I didn’t know a lot of people here. It was a large school.

    I hadn’t really been able to see her face, but something else had caught my eye. Her platinum blond hair. Very unnatural looking – mostly likely dyed - but still gorgeous nonetheless. Blow-dried and round-brushed into voluptuous perfection, it seemed to glow even in the fluorescents. Mel had obviously been staring too; I could see her out of the corner of my eye. But today, she had eyes of a hawk. The teal irises danced around from head to head constantly. I snapped out of it when the professor called for our attention. And then rested my elbow on the desk and chin in my hand as I tried to pay attention to the monotone lesson of the Elizabethan Century. I could let this fear eat away my insides.

    Last edited by Capri on Tue Jun 21, 2011 11:24 pm; edited 1 time in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun May 01, 2011 7:51 pm

    After acting like I was in the Witness Protection Program all morning, I’d gone back to my dorm room to get changed for work. Mel did the same in her room down the hallway. The second that she’d left my side, I panicked. But I had to get through this somehow, with or without Mel. So I was just going to have to brace work by myself, seeing how Mel worked at a strip mall miles away from the café where my job was.

    But my classes were over for today, thank God. I’d had one three-hour History period, then a two-hour Calculus class. My brain couldn’t absorb anything else, not while I was this worried. It had actually gotten a little warmer outside, but still no sun. I took off my hoodie and threw on my long-sleeved black, fitted v-neck, then threw my hair into a ponytail before grabbing a snack and my purse and heading out the door. I checked my wrist watch. 1: 20 PM.

    Walking as quickly as possible and using all of the short cuts, I had made it to my car without seeing those round, green beacons that would surely send me into hysterics. You know…it was odd. I’d have thought that I would’ve by now. Each time I turned a corner, I flinched a little. Every time I went out into public, I scanned faces. None matched up. Maybe he was being sly, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Why had he come? That was the big question; and I’d give anything for an answer. Surely, it was NOT coincidental. What did he want?

    I arrived at Café Luna minutes later and walked inside. I’d always loved it here. It had this quiet, soft atmosphere to it. Also, the lighting inside was dim-glowing magnificent. No harsh florescence, just the light sound of chatter and keyboards typing while people sipped on their coffee. To help darken it, all of the blinds were closed, curtains drawn. This place was just so peaceful, and I’d never had a bad day here.

    After a few hours of working the coffee machine and an hour of busing tables, I was told to work one of the cash registers. This was actually my favorite. It was the most laid back part of working here. And if it was a slow day, like today, you could stand around and chat with a fellow employee, and even sometimes get away with doing homework or studying. Our boss understood us college students. For half an hour, no customers came. Fine by me. Earlier, when I’d reached into my pocket, I realized that I’d forgotten my cell. Oh well. So I doodled on a notepad while listening to ‘Black To Black’ by Amy Winehouse play softly in the background. Then something caught my attention.

    When I’d looked up, thinking that whoever had just walked in would want to order something, I was wrong. No one was there. Various groups of people were chatting quietly at their tables as I searched for any new people. And I’d just about given up when I saw a flash of a pearly color. That girl from History class. Again, I only got to see the back of her head as she sat down at a table. And of course, she sat with her back to me as she took her laptop from her bag. A couple of preppy girls from a table nearby all gave her the one-over with ugh-what-a-poser looks on their faces. But I knew that they were admiring this girl’s apparent beauty. Jealous. And Blondie didn’t even notice. She typed away at the keyboard. I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows, then leaned my chin into my hand as I nonchalantly continued to glance at her.

    Damn. She had really nice clothes. Designer jeans with plush black pumps and a red, skin-tight sweater. From what I could see, she had fair skin and hair down to her chest. And a very healthy chest at that. No wonder why the girls were staring. I was dying to know what color her eyes were, that was the first thing that I looked at in a person. When she looked up, I quickly looked away and back down to my drawing. It was an eye. Very detailed. I began to shade around it with my fingers, smudging the graphite on my skin. Honestly, I people-watched for a hobby, so looking at her like that wasn’t a big deal. Everybody does it.

    At 8 o’ clock, the end of my slow shift came around. And Platni-Blonde was still tapping away at her computer. A few times, when I’d looked up, I saw her head quickly spin back around. Hmm, so she was doing some people watching herself, was she? She’d also done that towards the end of History class, when I’d finally gotten around to taking my hood down. And again, I didn’t catch her face. Oh well, I’ll see it eventually. As I untied my apron and walked to the back to put it up, I contemplated things that I would do when I got back to my dorm. Take up shower, get into soft sweats, and curl up on my queen-sized bed with a mug of hot tea to watch some T.V. Just thinking about it made me sleepy.

    Sighing, I made my way out of the back to exit the dimly-lit café, and stopped in mid-step. My eyebrows furrowed.

    Blondie was gone.

    I’d left, for what? Ten seconds. Holy hell. I looked towards the door just in time to the see the last of her heel-clad foot turn the corner. Damn you, curtains! If it weren’t for them, I’d be able to see her. Why was she in such a hurry all of the time? And why was I worrying about it? I waved it away as I walked into the night to my car from the side exit.

    Work had taken my mind off of things, and I was barely nervous as I arrived back on campus. Everyone was out doing their own thing by now, so the dorm hallways were mostly empty and I walked down them. After unlocking my door, I stepped inside with a sigh. Finally, I can just relax.

    It was insanely dark inside, curtains drawn and all lights off. But I knew it so well, that I threw my bag on the kitchen counter and began to peel my clothes off. As I felt around for my bed and sat on it in my black bra and underwear, I pulled out my ponytail, shaking out my hair. I grabbed my phone from my bedside table. 1 Missed Call: Blaine Harrison. I’ll call him back after my shower. But just as I was about to get up to go towards the bathroom, I noticed something.

    It was quiet. Way too quiet. And I didn’t feel alone. Instinctively, I froze and clenched up. Now that I was still, I felt the light, repeated movement behind me. Although my body screamed not to do it, I turned my head to look.

    At first, I saw blackness. Just complete blackness. Though I was engulfed in absolute fear, I focus on the spot, and my eyes began to adjust. What I saw then made my heart practically leap out of my chest, and it was amazing that I didn’t faint.

    Right behind my back, there was a long male figure lying on my bed.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun May 01, 2011 7:51 pm

    I’d never been one to scream. But at this moment, I could feel one bubbling up my throat. Suddenly, I saw a dark hand reaching in my direction and gave a loud gasp. I had leaped off of the bed and spun around in the same instance. Then I heard a click. And my dorm room was filled with light coming from the lamp on my nightstand.

    My pupils retracted to the sudden change and I squinted. At first, all I saw was bronze, but then I realized what I was looking at.

    “Blaine!” I said with complete surprise, but then that morphed into anger. He was lying on my bed – shirtless, I noticed – in gym shorts, toned pectorals and biceps flexing while his arms were behind his head. He had his signature wide grin on his handsome face, golden hair flopping lazily into his amber eyes. His chuckle shook the bed as his rippling abs flexed. That cheeky bastard.

    I was genuinely mad. Pissed, actually. He’d nearly pushed my off of the cliff that I clung to called Sanity. Sure that my hair was a mess around me, I clenched my fists. “What. The HELL?!” I yelled, my voice steadily raising in volume. But of course, all that ass did was laugh and laugh.

    “You know,” he said nonchalantly as he sat up, “You really should turn the lights on before stripping into your underwear. You could give some old male a heart attack.” But before he’d even finished, I turned and looked for the closest object to chuck at him. Pillow in hand, that’s exactly what I did. And my anger spiked and quickly faded as I did so. But of course, his amazing reflexes caught it a foot away from his face. Years of football will do that to you.

    Then he stopped smiling, one eyebrow arched in question as he tossed the pillow on to the floor. You see, I never usually did things like that. Sure, I had a quick temper, but I never let it get the best of me. He and I both knew that whatever had been in my hand – whether pillow or glass cup – I still would’ve hurled it at his face. Immediately, I was embarrassed as I stood as the side of the bed. But still frightened. I felt the color rise to my cheeks as my heart began to go back to its normal pace. A hand went to my face as I closed my eyes and sighed. Stupid so stupid.

    “You can’t do those things to me!” I whispered, but then I felt rough but warm hands on my waist, pulling my closer. When I opened my eyes, Blaine was sitting at the edge of the bed, and I stood in between his legs. His eyes were level with my neck, but he looked up, fingers lightly tracing my lower back. “I didn’t know it was you.” I murmured.

    He momentarily stopped tracing, “Who else could it have been? I’m the only one with a key.” He was suspicious. I could tell by the look in his eye. But he usually wasn’t one to question. Unlike last night.

    The first thing that popped into my mind were those green eyes, but I fiercely pushed them away, “I don’t know! A serial killer. Rapist.” I lied smoothly.

    “Sorry, babe.” He said, kissing my stomach, “You usually aren’t THAT jumpy.” He grinned.

    “Why can’t you just knock on the door like a regular person?” I muttered. To which he answered, “That would just be boring.” Always Mr. Spontaneous.

    I sighed again, pressing my lips on the top of his head. His arm held me tighter and I could feel the heat radiating from both of our bodies. He smelled amazing, as usual. I on the other hand, could be cleaner.
    “I need to shower,” I said, gently pulling out of his grasp. He let go reluctantly. I’d barely made it two steps before stopping. And I knew what my eyes would meet as I looked over my shoulder. Playful brown eyes. Devious white smile.

    I rolled my eyes, beckoning him to follow with my hand as I turned around. But I gave a shriek as I felt my feet lift out from under me. He’d tossed me over his shoulder, and we both laughed as he made his way back to my bathroom.

    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:59 pm; edited 1 time in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun May 01, 2011 7:51 pm

    My English teacher rambled on and on about the novel that we were reading, but I wasn’t paying attention. Thursday mornings were always slow for me. I was zoning, thinking about Monday night. After showering, Blaine and I had curled up on my bed and watched movies all night, but of course we eventually feel asleep. It was amazing having that person in your life that you could love so much, but didn’t have to talk to prove it.

    None of my friends were in this class, so I was jittery. To my surprise, I’d seen no sign of Louis all week, but that didn’t make me any less nervous. It just added on to the fact that I had no idea what was coming. Though I hadn’t seen anything of Green-Eyes, there was someone else who seemed to always be there when I turned the corner. Blondie. Coincidence or not, it was weird. When I worked, she was at the café. When I walked across campus, she was always there, whether walking or sitting at a table. Always staring. She was in most of my classes. She lived in my dorm building. And I still didn’t know her name. And every time I got the chance to see her face, she either turned or was too far in away. It was frustrating, and it was really getting to me. I know that it shouldn’t be bothering me, but I needed to know what her deal was. Several times, I’ve tried to follow her, but I lose her in crowds. I hadn’t told anyone about Blondie, not even Mel. It wasn’t necessary. I could do things myself.

    That was why I was glad that my last class was almost over. Because Blondie was a few rows in front, writing notes, and I was finally going to. I was going to figure out who this girl was, and why she was doing it. Yes, I realized that I’m being the most paranoid person ever. But I have to know.

    The professor dismissed us just then, and I waited for her to gather her things before I got up. I didn’t stare at her, but I saw her glance at me as she stood. I tried not to show my frustration, instead, I put on my façade and followed behind her from a far distance. We’d made it about halfway across the campus lawn before I saw her blonde head twitched back, but I had already been nonchalantly glancing at my phone. After a moment, I’d looked back up and noticed she’d quickened her pace. Crap.

    Walking a little faster, I followed her into our dorm building. But right as I walked in, I panicked. I’d lost her again. Where did she go?! I scanned quickly, my determination going down the drain. Bu then I heard something. The ding of an elevator. Bolted towards the sound, I received a few strange looks. But I honestly didn’t care. Just I turned the corner, I saw her. She was standing right in front of me. With a scared look on her face. But the elevator door was already half closed. But suddenly, I couldn’t move.

    I knew that face, Tiny, heart-shaped, with grey, angular eyes and cheek bones that cut across her face. But her hair. Her hair was so wrong. It used to be light brown. Not platinum blonde. She’d changed it. She hadn’t wanted me to know that she was watching me. I was sure that my mouth was a gaping hole. But the elevator doors swung closed.

    But she was here. Louis’s twenty-three-year-old sister. Sophia du Ponte.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Wed May 25, 2011 3:11 pm

    This time around, I’d been taken completely by surprise. Why in the hell would Sophia come? What is she doing here? Why is she spying on me? Was Louis actually here? So many questions buzzed through my brain. I realized that I was just standing there in the hallway, gawking at the closed elevator door. A few people were still staring at me, but I didn’t really care. Instead, I looked above the elevator at the quickly changing neon green numbers.


    So Sophia lived on the fifth floor, did she? That explains why I’d never really seen where she came from. I’ve only seen her go in. I wondered what she was thinking right now. What she was doing. Was she freaking out? Was she going to give details to her brother (if he was actually here)? I had no way to find out. This was ridiculous.

    Practically stabbing the elevator button, I waited. There was only one person to tell right now. One person who could actually help. The elevator doors slowly opened after about a minute, but I hoped in the empty space and ascended to the third floor. I walked right past my room and a little further down the hall. I stopped at the door label 345, then knocked continuosly. I heard a shuffling and thumps inside as I continued to rap my knuckles against the wood. I wasn’t going to stop until she answered. Suddenly, the door was yanked open, and my gaze was met with a red-headed Mel in her white bath robe.

    “Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed, hair hanging down lank and damp.

    I lowered my hand, then pushed my way through the door. “What’s your issue?” I heard her say after I heard the door shut.

    “Sophia is here.” I said, looking at her. She answered with furrowed eyebrows, “Sophia….?”

    “du Ponte!” I almost hissed. That last name had sounded like a curse word when I said it.

    “Wait, Louis’s sister, right? Why in the hell would she come? This is none of her business.” Mel replied, rubbing a towel through her hair.

    “That’s what I’d like to know,” I plopped down on Mel’s bed and sighed heavily. “You know, I was beginning to think that he wasn’t actually here. That he changed his mind. But Sophia…that doesn’t even make sense.”

    “Unless she’s here to spy on her brother.” She suggested.

    “Or spy on me for him.”

    “He can’t be happy that she followed him. That is, if he even knows.”

    I threw my hands up, “Why are things so complicated?!” I exclaimed.

    “Who knows?” Mel replied. I was silent.

    “Well, I’m off today. Wanna stay here and think of another plan? It’s noon now, so we have plenty of time.”

    I shook my head, “I have to work from three to ten.”

    “Well, then we have three hours to think of something.” I nodded at that, but I was still scared at the idea of being alone at work where Sophia could be. Like always, Mel read my mind, “And I’ll come to work with you. I doubt that Sophia would come now, she’s she knows you’ve seen her.”

    I sighed again, “You’re probably right, but I don’t want you to spend your day off sitting in a coffee shop.”

    She waved my words away as she changed into some jeans and a fitted green turtle neck, “I’m coming.”

    There was no arguing with Mel. Like myself, she was stubborn. She turned to look at me, “Do you have a picture of this girl? You know, so I can keep a look-out?” My hand went inside my purse and I pulled out my wallet. In the deepest flap, I pulled out the photograph. I stared at the picture of the laughing, light brown-headed girl with steely grey eyes for a minute. This picture had been taken shortly after I’d gotten pregnant. I was hugging her, my dark hair in a long side braid. But I hadn’t even known that I was pregnant then; I could tell because of how widely I was smiling. We had been standing on the sidewalk, and in the background was our favorite café filled with people casually dining. I remembered this moment so clearly. Louis had been standing in front of us, flashing a bright smile as he took the picture.

    Shaking my head, I handed Mel the picture. Examining it, she said, “This is Blondie? She looks so different.”

    “Yeah, she cut and dyed her hair. I don’t like it…” I muttered. Mel gave me her almost mother-like look, and slid the picture into her pocket. I wanted to tell her to be careful with it, but I kept my mouth shut.

    “Well,” she said, breaking the silence. “Let’s get cracking on what we need to do now.” And she hurriedly sat down next to me, a devious look in her eye.

    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:07 pm; edited 1 time in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Wed May 25, 2011 3:11 pm

    A small clanging of bells made my head snap up in attention. For the twentieth time in the past hour, my heart began to race as I looked to see who’d walked through the café door. I could see Mel out of the corner of my eye, teal eyes reminding me of a bird of prey zeroing in on the kill. But now, I wasn’t scared, I was prepared. Or so I kept telling myself.

    I didn’t see the flash of platinum that I’d been dreading. Again, that tensed up ball of fear relaxed and I breathed a breath of relief. I’d begun to think how stupid this whole thing was. It was nine o’clock at night. And here were Mel and I standing watch, waiting for Sophia or Louis to walk in. But we both secretly knew that they wouldn’t be dumb enough to do that. Sophia had known that I’d seen her. I didn’t know if she was actually in touch with her brother, but why wouldn’t she be? Okay. They definitely wouldn’t come in here, whatever they were planning.

    So, no platinum. Instead, I saw purple and black.

    A large grin spread across my face as I watched the two people walk in.

    “Hey, guys.” I said cheerfully, hiding my passing burst of nerves.

    Kelsey Brilliante and Destrey Hopkins. I’d known them since the third grade, before they’d turned into the “Rave Kids” that they are now. The purple that I’d just seen was Kelsey’s latest shade of hair color. Like usual, it fell pin-straight to below her chest, filled with crazy layers beginning two inches from her scalp. The bangs grew longer as they went diagonally down her face, covering her whole forehead. The ends were sharp and edgy, and she’d teased to the top to messy perfection. Kelsey was clad in black skinny jeans and her All Time Low shirt that I’d seen so many times. They hugged her curves very prettily. On her feet were her favorite Vans, colored all over with various pictures of rainbow-colored unicorns, pigs, smiling mushrooms, and favorite song titles. Brown eyes rimmed in dark eyeliner, she smiled back at me and the apples of her cheeks were rosy against her pale skin.

    As for Destrey, his razored black, shoulder length hair was swept seemily-carelessly across his whole head. Looming over Kelsey at about six foot, his lean and lithe frame stood in similar clothes. His skinny jeans were electric neon green with holes torn in the knees and his black Invader Zim hoodie was unzipped halfway to reveal his purple band t-shirt underneath. Like Kelsey, his eyes were also rimmed in black. But this made the sea-foam blue irises stand out in contrast to everything like no other. No wonder they were all the Kelsey could stare at all of the time. Again, like her, he flashed me a bright smile as they walked side-by-side towards me to the cash register. It was crazy to think that these two were great friends of mine. While they weren’t an “item”, they might as well have been. People rarely ever saw them apart; they were inseparable. But when they were away from each other, all they ever did was talk about one another. That was fine with me. It wasn’t annoying at all, it was adorable.

    “Hey, crack whore,” Kelsey responded sarcastically.

    I laughed, noticing how Mel had towards back around with a small smirk,“Since when do you guys come here? At nine P.M?”

    “Well, we decided to visit our favorite little croissant.” Destrey said with a failed attempt at a faux French accent. He winked exaggeratedly.

    “Nah, case of the munchies, bro.” Kelsey said with a laugh, “But we did miss you. God, you’ve been like a hermit this week.”

    “I know.” I said with a groan, “What did you guys want?” I asked motioning to the menu behind me.

    “Got anything that didn’t include degrading the life of a cow or chicken?” Kelsey asked glancing at it.

    Destrey snickered, “Yeah, Vegetarian-Friendly menu is over on that side.” I said with a smile.

    As they studied it, Destrey said, “This place is dead isn’t it?”

    “Very. But it doesn’t matter to me. I’m so tired,” I said, feeling the urge to yawn.

    “Ditch, man.” He said.

    “Psh. I wish.”

    “Yeah, we’ll take those two tofu salads with frozen limonadas, por favor.” Kelsey said, smiling again.

    I tapped their order into the touch screen and said, “$10.52” When Destrey handed me the money, I beckoned over at Mel. “Hey, she’s lonely over there. Go sit.” I did feel bad for Mel coming. After all, this had all been a joke nothing had happened. “See you later, Ambz. We’ll chill with the ginger.” Kelsey smirked.

    They nodded and smiled, shuffling over to sit with her while they waited for their order. Destrey playfully poked Kelsey’s side, earning him a tiny smack to his shoulder. They laughed and embraced for half a second. What a perfect two they were. Why couldn’t my life be that easy?

    Behind me, I heard bustling in the tiny kitchen; no doubt someone was begrudgingly making their order. I smiled to myself, trying not to think of this drama as I listened to the soft music in the background.

    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:42 pm; edited 2 times in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:52 pm

    Switching off the lights off the dimly-lit café, I stared into the dark silence. Only the tiniest bit of moonlight filtered through the windows, and my eyes had to adjust to the sudden change. Ten o’clock had rolled around and I was now the only one left here; the other employees working the night shift had cleaned up and gone home. The boss had left it to me to lock up shop. I’d always thought that it’d been kind of weird for a café to be open in the late night hours, but since this place was nearly a few blocks from the local airport, you never knew who would come in.

    I’d told Mel to go back to our dorm at 9:30. To me, it just wasn’t worth the waiting around. She’d been reluctant, but I felt bad having brought her here. Kelsey and Destrey had assured me jokingly that they’d see that she’d get home alright. To hide my returning nervousness, I’d laughed. But now, in this darkness, I regretted it. Alone, vulnerable, is what I was. Why did I feel like I was being attacked? If Louis was here, what did he want? But I already knew that answer, didn’t I? I doubted it was me. It was Charlie. Louis always stuck to everything that he did. He finished what he started every time. He was determined, bullheaded, and persuasive. Though I’d never seen him use those traits for anything but good, he most likely could. And I’d gotten in the way of his plans. I left him in Paris, I’d told him to stay away. Everything had fallen to pieces when I found out that I was pregnant. Sure, it wasn’t all that bad through the whole nine months. He was loyal, faithful, and always ready to help. He’d accepted the fact that I wasn’t “getting rid of it”, and he’d never pushed me to do so. So when it came time for Charlie to be born, I’d already known that I was moving back to America. But, out of fear, I hadn’t told Louis. Thinking about those days made me want to break down. I’d truly hurt a man that I loved. I hadn’t talked to or seen him ever since I moved back half a year ago. And now. Now he was back to stick with his plans, and not knowing what they were made me extremely nervous. I’d ripped Charlie from him without any warning. What was he going to do? Take him away from me? Go to court? Or just talk to me? Whatever it was, he needed to act soon, before I totally lost it.

    As I walked out to my car after locking the doors, I let out a shuddering breath. It was a little chilly, and this quiet was unnerving. I was only in my jeans, boots and a fitted black, long-sleeved v-neck. Looking around, I was completely alone in the parking lot. No one was around, and the other shops had already closed. Down the street a ways, a couple of cars were parallel parked by the sidewalks next to apartment complexes. I quickly shuffled into my car, turned it on, and began to drive on the back roads back to my university to avoid traffic. To keep my mind off of things, I turned on the radio. And loud. The speakers in the back shook every time the beat dropped and the bass started to boom. It was working, the noise was distracting me. I clutched the wheel, noticing that I was speeding a little too fast. Then something happened that was totally unexpected.

    Without warning, the car started to lose speed. The purr of the engine seemed to dwindle away. Panicked, I looked at the speedometer. The glowing red needle gently rested below the letter ‘E’. Thank God I was the only one on this road, or else I would’ve caused an accident. But I couldn’t believe how stupid I was for not paying attention to the blinking gas light. I groaned as I pulled over to the side of the road. When my car came to a complete stop and turned off, I threw my fist against the steering wheel and cursed. Why now?! I wasn’t even halfway home. Reaching into the back seat, I pulled my phone out of my purse to call Blaine. Only to freeze when I clicked a button. Completely black. Dead. With another screech of creative curse words, I leaned onto the steering wheel in defeat. “Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!” I muttered. Why hadn’t I charged my phone?!

    After sitting there in defeat for a few moments, I began to get cold. The heating was now off. And I’d forgotten my jacket. This just wasn’t my week, was it? Shuddering, I begrudgingly accepted the fact that I was going to have to walk back to my dorm building two miles away or at least to the nearest pay phone. But of course, I’d taken the back room, and all around me were run-down condos and alleys. I hadn’t even been paying attention to where I was driving. I was in the bad part of town. Great. Just great.

    With extreme hesitation, I grabbed my keys and got out of the car. Just my luck, it’d gotten colder. I wrapped my arms around myself , though it was a lost cause. It was black and extremely quiet here. The only light was the occasional street lamp every hundred feet or so. Come on, Amber. Push yourself. It’s only two miles.

    I clicked the lock button on my key chain, then the high pitched notification sound sounded from my car and echoed into the streets ahead. I took a deep breath and started walking.

    Once again, I was alone. I walked past alleyways and streetlamps, looking around nervously. I’d put my dead phone in my jeans pocket, and created a rhythm with my footsteps. Every alley I passed, I nearly sprinted across. So I began to think of other things when I heard something. It was a shuffling sound.

    I stopped. The noise stopped. Slowly, I turned. And nothing was there.

    It must be my imagination. Paranoia is constantly following me. But maybe it wasn’t alone. At that, I started walking faster. I could feel tiny sparks of adrenaline running through my veins, trying to ignore the cold. It happened when I came across the mouth of another alley. Footsteps behind me. But I stopped. The noise stopped. As did the breath in my throat. But before I could turn around in frustration, there came something from the alleyway.

    Of course, I couldn’t see. But now I couldn’t move. Why me? But I got myself to turn to look into the darkness. And heard more footsteps in front of me. Slowly but surely, two male figures appeared. I struggled to see, but they were both around six foot, towering over me. One was more robust, while the other was lean. Both had shoulder length, stringy hair with 5 o’clock shadow on their faces. But it was too dark to see the colors. They were wearing baggy clothes, and seemed only a couple of years older than myself. But this ambush seemed completely planned. Yes, I was absolutely frightened. But that hard facial expression that I had gotten so used to was present. They, on the other hand, were both smirking, only two feet from me. I’d read about these things, heard stories from girls at my school. But I still had never thought it would happen to me.

    The leaner man was closest. “Hello, gorgeous.”

    His scruffy voice caught me by surprise. Both of my fists clenched tight, the right one throbbing because of the metal it was tightening around. I held strong, said nothing. My jaw was contracting. I would say nothing to give them the impression I was scared.

    I notice that the leaner man wasn’t that unattractive. He had that ‘bad-boy look’ about him that many girls probably swooned over. His buddy on the other hand, simply repulsed me. My eyes danced over them, giving away nothing.

    “I don’t have any money, if that’s what you want.” I stated simply in a hard voice.

    “Oh no, honey. I don’t want your money.” Smooth Talker said. His hand appeared from the darkness and stroked my waist. I couldn’t help but flinch. He moved his face closer to mine but I turned my head to the side, trying to push away the disgust on my face. I was forced to stare at his friend in the face as I felt the stubble of his cheek against mine. I tried not to shudder, but failed. Chubby grinned, showing his yellow teeth.

    I heard a voice in my ear, “Ready for some fun?” Followed by a frigid hand traveling up my shirt. Now was my chance.

    My right hand swung towards his face, my sharp car key gleaming in the moonlight a split second before he jumped out of the way. His friend on the other hand, had also anticipated it, but jumped in the way. A booming roar of pain echoed in the alleyway as I gauged his cheek with the key. Blood spurted unto my hand as he clutched his face in pain. The lean man smacked the keys out of my hands, and then threw me up against a brick wall. When my head hit it, I felt a warm trickling liquid travel down my neck and instantly felt my world sway around me as I slid down to the ground. Trying hard to concentrate, I clawed at the dirt gravel helplessly, trying to get up. But I was suddenly hit by tremendous pressure in my side. I screamed, curling reflexively into a ball as hot tears sprung from my eyes. I looked up, vision blurred, into the robust man’s bleeding and furious face. He’d kicked me with his booted foot. And now they both stood over me. Again, I tried to get up, only to be grabbed by my hair a dragged forward. I yelled in pain, grating my nails against the dirty skin of the stout man’s hand. He then threw me down on my back and immediately straddled my hips. I kicked with all of my might and let out another blood curdling scream.

    “Shut the bitch up!” he yelled at Smooth Talker. “And get her hands!”

    “Man, I wanted to screw this one!” I heard his friend say.

    “Just do it!” he spat back at him.

    It was beyond my control. This was happening. My wrists were grabbed and yanked above my head and some cloth that had a putrid smell reeking from it was shoved in my mouth. “Now be a good girl.” I heard a whisper in my ear. I squirmed and squirmed, but it was no good. He was too heavy.

    Scorching tears still ran down my face. Here I was, hands held tight above my head, half-choking, with a man on top of me. His hands hungrily yanked on my belt, instantly tugging it free. I was tired of screaming. My head and side were throbbing, I could barely breathe.

    The top button of my jeans was now open, the zipper slowly sliding down. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look, I couldn’t watch. I didn’t want to hear. Didn’t want to feel. I felt my hair being stroked by the skinny man, and his friend was shaking with laughter as he began to pull my jeans down. As his hands ran all over my body, I tried not to vomit. So this was my fate. If they didn’t kill me after, would anyone ever find me? Here, deep in this dark alley? I heard the zipper of his pants and clenched my whole body. But then, like a lost sailor seeing a glowing lighthouse on the horizon…

    I heard a voice.

    A deep voice. Accented.

    I knew the voice.

    It had comforted me in my times of need.

    It had always been there for me.

    And here it was again.

    “Stop.” It said.

    I opened my burning eyes, rolling my head to the side. Against the pale moonlight, I saw a tall dark silhouette. His hands were clenched at his sides. And both men touching me froze. As did I.


    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:42 pm; edited 2 times in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:54 pm


    I kept looking at people. It seemed like everyone’s eyes were on me. I don’t how I was keeping it together, how I wasn’t yelling at them to mind their own business. But somewhere deep inside myself, I knew they didn’t give two shits about a seventeen-and-a-half-year-old girl walking down the crowded Parisian streets. Every time someone stared too long at me, or got a little too close as I brushed past them, I tensed up, and my face probably didn’t have the most welcoming expression on it. But I didn’t care, honestly. I just wanted to get home without bumping into someone I knew. I didn’t want people to ask me what was in the brown paper bag in my hand.

    There. I spotted my condo as I turned the corner. It was a little less crowded now as I passed a café. You know, whenever one of my friends back in America thought of French people, they typically saw snooty couples smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee constantly and wearing those damned berets. The ones giving you the I’m-better-and-more-attractive-than-you face. Well, sure. Paris was full of people like that. But so was America.

    It was June here, and the sun was shining brightly. A little too brightly maybe. It was nice to be able to wear my shorts finally. And usually, sunny days made me happy. But not today. I wish I could make the weather match my mood. It would be cloudy. They would hide the sun. But you could still see it trying to poke through, to make its presence known. But if you turned and looked off into the distance, you’d be able to see the black and impending rain clouds rolling in, promising to bring blasting winds and freezing rain for God knows how long. Those clouds would bring destruction. Change.

    God, I’m so dramatic. But that was honestly how I felt.

    I practically leaped up the stairs leading up to my family’s condo. Finally. Away from people. Away from everyone. I shut the door behind me gratefully, leaning against it as I caught my breath. My mother and father were both at work. I was finally alone. Making my way to the bathroom, I clutched the bag tight in my hands. When I’d sat on the edge of the toilet seat, I pulled out the small rectangular box, trying not to read it. The instructions were scrawled on the side of the box, all in French. That irritated me. Who the hell needed instructions for peeing on a freaking stick? I reached into the little box, and pulled out the wand-ish-looking thing. I held it tight in my hands. Intimidating.

    Alright, Amber. You’re being stupid. You aren’t going to find out any sooner by just looking at it. How many people had I seen doing this on TV? Juno had been so cool about it. Almost sarcastic. No, really sarcastic. I would never think of the movie the same way now. She made teen pregnancy seem so carefree. Oh, but it was just the opposite. I’d laughed when she’d stared shaking the wand after seeing the plus sign, and the guy behind the counter had said, “That ain’t no etch-a-sketch. That’s one doodle that can’t be un-did, home skillet.” But he was wrong. It could be “un-did”.

    Quickly, I’d pulled down my shorts and uncapped the tip of the pregnancy test. Sticking it between my legs, I did my business. Who invented this thing, anyway? I was irritated, annoyed, angry. Nervous. Scared. I was never late. But it’d been ten days.

    When I was done, I re-capped it and set it on my bathroom counter. After fixing my shorts, that damned thing was all I could stare at. Ominous, that’s what it was. A few minutes, that’s all. The few longest minutes of my life. I was becoming antsy. My feet tapped against the tile, my hands shook like crazy. What could I do to keep my mind off of things? I stood up quickly and washed my hands. Slowly. I glanced at it.


    I stared at my irritated expression, and then splashed cold water on my face. After drying it off painstakingly slow again, I looked.


    Practically shrieking, I snatched the thing in my hands. I couldn’t be in here anymore, I’d start hyperventilating. So I ran out into the spacious condo, that blasted sunlight shining brightly through the whole place. I needed to know the answer to my question. Now. And alone. No, I wouldn’t let Sophia be here. She’d tell her brother. And I didn’t want him to know. Because I honestly didn’t know what I would do about…it.

    Never so much had I wanted to see the color blue. Never so much had I loved subtraction. That’s all I wanted to see now. I dreaded pink. I dreaded addition.

    Something had started to show up on it as I paced, but it was too faint.

    But then I heard a noise outside the door. A key unlocking it. My head snapped up, and I froze. Damn it, Amber, hide it behind your back. But I couldn’t. No one was supposed to be home.

    And he walked in.

    Tall, dark, and handsome Louis. Striding into the loft carelessly with his beautiful twenty-one-year-old self clad in jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. His jade green eyes were turned downward, his thick lashes hiding them. He hadn’t seen me yet. His wavy brunette hair was perfectly laid-back, and it gleamed a sort of auburn color in the light. The sun had faded it, but darkened his skin. It was now more olive-toned.

    Usually the sight would take my breath away every time, but I was already too out of breath.

    Then, he finally looked up after closing the door. The contrast between his eyes and skin was amazing.

    And he saw me.

    There I was, standing at the end of the hallway. Frozen. With a pregnancy test clutched in my hands. He’d begun to walk towards me, but upon seeing my face, he stopped about fifteen feet away.

    First his expression was of confusion. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the thing in my hands.

    Then in was realization. His mouth opened the tiniest bit, then his eyebrows shot back up in surprise.

    And finally, what I saw was fear. And he tried to hide it by closing his mouth and relaxing his face. Because he wanted me to see him as strong. Oh, but I can see straight through you, Louis du Ponte. His eyes gave it all away. He desperately wanted to know. To know the fate of his future.

    Then his eyes bore into mine, asking the silent questions. How could it have happened? What does it say? But I couldn’t get myself to speak.

    Somehow, I mustered up the courage to look down at the thing. I don’t know how I did, but it happened.

    And what I saw made my stomach drop to my feet. Made me give a dry, choke-like gasp. Made my knees weak. And I swear I almost blacked right then.

    Never before had I hated plus signs so much. Or the color pink.

    But that was exactly what I saw.

    And my expression turned sullen as I felt those imaginary dark rain clouds roll in.

    I looked up at Louis.

    That was enough conformation for him.

    And like me, he was frozen. Standing there with his hands at his sides, expression smoldering with something I couldn’t quite distinguish as he stared at my abdomen. But it wasn’t hate. Or anger.

    It was recognition. Recognition that he was now a father. Amazement.

    And now I had to keep the baby. Or it’d break Louis.

    My Louis.


    All I could think about was that memory as I stared up at the figure in the moonlight. He was in the exact same stance. It was uncanny. And though I could barely see his face from where I was on the dirty gravel, I could make out what it was.

    Anger. Extreme hatred. Determination.

    At first, I thought he was looking at me. I thought he was in on this. Was this part of his plans?

    But then I took in the details. These men didn’t know him. He was looking at them with burning green eyes.

    Louis had been following me.

    I honestly didn’t know how I was putting everything together. My head throbbed with every pulse and I could feel the blood drying on the back of my neck. Things were slowly fading, and I was lulling out of focus. The skinny man’s hands were still in my hair and the other man was still straddling me, holding my jeans.

    And I was freezing.

    “Let her go.” I heard Louis say. He had learned English well, though his way of speaking was deeply accented.

    The man on top of me gave a deep chuckle, looking from Louis to me again then smirking. He cheek was still bleeding, “Man, get the f*ck out of here.” He said as his hands moved inside my shirt once more. His friend stroked my cheek, “Your little friend over there is going to get you in trouble.” he said in a creepy sing-song voice.

    I hated them.

    “I said,” That was Louis. “Let. Her. Go.”

    With this burst of red hot anger, I flailed wildly. But the man on top held strong as I tried to rip my hands free from the other. I wanted to curse, to scream at them, but that thing was still in my mouth. My eyes stung with angry tears. Instead they curse at me, slamming my body to the ground once more.

    “Bitch! You’re pissing me off!”

    In all of this, I hadn’t even noticed that Louis was quickly closing in on them. But before I could try to distract them, the robust man’s fist raised, then came crashing down on my stomach. Whatever wind was in me was knocked out them, but I still managed to scream a muffled shriek of pain and arch my back in response. Black spots appeared in my vision.

    It was when I felt my body go limp that everything went black.

    Last edited by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 8:32 pm; edited 1 time in total
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:54 pm

    Floating in and out of consciousness, I couldn't really grasp what was going on. It was like I was underwater, any noises muffled. Everything was fuzzy and blurred even when I would drift to the surface. I honestly didn't know where I was.

    It was black. And then I realized why. I found that couldn't open my eyes. Even when I floated to the top of that water. I couldn't move at all; it was frightening, and I wanted with all my non-existent energy to yell. But I was too weak.

    I could hear. And, of course, I could still feel pain. There was a dull ache at the back of my head and abdomen. I could kill that man for hitting me there. A place where Charlie had once been so safe.

    My left side stung with every shallow breath I took. God, I hope that ass hadn't broken a rib. It was quiet, accept for the sudden shuffling of feet on the gravel beside me. Who was it? Some noise had woken me from unconsciousness. I was still freezing, as I heard a soft jingling noise.It sounded a like...what? For the life of me, I couldn't remember what that noise was. And I could feel something drying on my right hand. Disgusted, I wanted that filthy monster's blood off of me. I hoped I left a scar in his cheek.

    The footsteps stopped by my feet. I desperately need to know who it was. Needed to wake up to defend myself.

    Just then, I felt myself slowly start to sink back into the cold waters of unconsciousness. But now I felt hands on my jeans, they rested on my thighs. I panicked, only making myself sink deeper, but then realized that they were being pulled up. The button was fastened, zipper pulled up. I heard whispering, but couldn't decipher the words. Too muffled. Right before I completely went under, I felt my body being lifted and pressed against something warm. A chest, a male chest. And arms under my knees and back as I swayed from left to right. Left to right. Left to. . .



    Not being able to stay awake is frustrating. And it seems as though I'm stuck in between. No way to tell how much time has passed since the last time I was at the surface. No way to tell if you were alone or where you were. All I knew that I was warm, and I was laying on something riveted, and semi-soft. The smell was familiar, as was the low humming noise in front of me. Every now and then, I shifted to either side. But I still couldn't place where I was. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I knew the answer. But I just couldn't get it.


    Now it was different.

    How long had I been underneath the water? I honestly didn't know. But now I smelled antiseptic. Too clean. And even though I couldn't open my eyes, a bright florescent light was filtering through my closed eyelids. Annoying.

    Now I knew I was in a bed. A comfortable temperature. Numb in the places that hurt earlier. Something attached to the back of my hand. A steady beeping noise. And it hit me.


    My eyes snapped open, but almost immediately closed in pain from the sudden brightness.

    "Gahh!" came from my mouth. I sounded like a raspy frog, realizing how dry my throat was. Probably from screaming.

    Slowly, I reopened my eyes, wincing while doing so. Yes, I was in a hospital room, in one of those gowns they give you. My skin looked even paler than usual in this lighting as I lay on top of the covers. There wasn't blood on my hand anymore, only an IV. The door was closed, but I saw nurses and doctors hustling past.

    Why was I here? What was going on? Who brought me?

    I needed to talk to someone. Someone who worked here. There must be a button or something. Turning my head, I saw the red one I was looking for, reached over, and pushed it in.

    With a sigh, I relaxed my arm and watched the door. Surely enough, seconds later, a nurse walked through the door, an expectant look on her chocolate brown face.

    "Ahh, finally awake, are we?" she asked in a southern drawl as she walked closer. After checking the clip board at the end of the bed, "Amber Rosseau, is it?"

    I gave a weak nod as she observed the bag of clear fluid above my head. "I'm Nurse Josie," she continued looking down at me with a tiny smile.

    "Why am I- how am I-?..." I stuttered with a rough voice before giving up.

    "You don't remember anythin', hun?" she looked a little concerned as she walked back to the clip board.

    "I-I don't remember how I got here...exactly." I confessed.

    "Some young man brought you in." Nurse Josie said, "Honestly, we didn't know what to think up at the front desk 'cuz you were like a rag doll in his arms. 'Soon as he handed you over to us, he was outta here. No name, nothin'. 'Just said he'd found you like that."

    My face must've looked puzzled because the next thing she said was, "I know, darlin', we were thinking the same thing," -no, I bet you weren't- "But he left us with your stuff." she motioned over to the chair next to me, where my keys, jacket, and cell phone lie. Oh, how nice of him to remember, I thought sarcastically. How dare he just leave me here alone. Why would he do that? Why didn't he just stay?

    "What'd he look like?" I was almost afraid to ask. Maybe I'd imagined it all.

    "Wish I could tell ya. He was wearin' this dark hoodie over his face. I can say he was purty dang tall, though." her dark yes scanned my face. "Y'know, it's not like we haven't had run-a-ways before. But he could've had something to do with you getting hurt." -No, but he did have something to do with saving my life- "D'you have any idea who that man might've been?"

    I thought about my options for a moment. Tell them, and they'd probably launch an investigation or something. And things would turn to hell. "No." I said firmly.

    She gave me another questioning look then, like she didn't trust me. "Do you remember anything before that?" Even though I was drugged, she was beginning to irritate me.

    "I was on my way home from work," I said, "And my car ran out of gas, so I started walking-" she interrupted me with, "And where were you?"

    I sighed, "I'd taken the back roads home, and ended up landing in that dark part of down town." She motioned me to go on, something like recognition flashing in her eyes.

    "I"I was walking, and I-" Wait. I'd have to make something up- "I felt something hit the back of my head. And don't remember anything after that. It's all muddled." Not the best lie, but it would explain my busted head. And if she accepted the fact that 'd probably fallen after that, it could maybe take the blame for my stomach and side. Speaking of my head, I reached up to feel it.

    "Three stitches. And a bruised rib cage and abdomen." she said shaking her head, as I lifted my gown to look at my stomach. There was a horrific dark purple, baseball-sized bruise there. And I had a bandage wrapped around my torso. "Whoever that man was, you're lucky that he brought ya in."

    Huh. If she only knew. I opened my mouth to say something, when something else hit me.

    "What hospital am I in?" I asked quickly, looking out the door.

    "North-West City Hospital," she answered, pointing to her name tag. Shit.

    "Have you called my par-?" I began.

    "They're both in the operating room at the moment, but they have been informed."

    I sighed. Damn it. Having surgeons for parents did have it's perks, but I would have to prepare myself to be bombarded with question after question.

    "Trust me, honey. You don't have to worry. They'll be down to see you as soon as they can." Nurse Josie said. Oh,joy.

    I forced a small smile, and she opened her mouth again, "Do you need anything? What's your pain level?"

    What's my pain level? God, how many times had I heard that in my life? Cut my finger with a knife on accident in sixth grade: "What's your pain level, darling?" my father would ask. Sprained my ankle playing soccer three years ago: "Pain level?". Going through contractions: Mother, "Amber, what's your pain level? Is she dilated enough for the epidural?"

    "I'm fine," I said to Nurse Josie with another fake grin.

    "Alright, you just push that button again if ya need me, sweet pea." To which I answered with a nod.

    After she closed the door, I sighed heavily, closing my eyes as I sank back against the flat pillow of the hospital bed.

    I, Amber Rossaeu, have the worse luck on planet Earth.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:51 pm

    Hospitals are one of the dullest places on earth, in my opinion. You really can’t do anything there but hurt, eat, sleep, and sulk. It’s too clean. Too cold. Too boring.

    I was going to go insane in about five seconds. When Nurse Josie had come in, it’d been about three o’clock in the morning. I expected my parents to walk in any moment, but as always, you can’t really count on them to be on time. So I dropped back into my morphine-induced slumber.

    It only seemed like moments had passed before I was awakened, yet again being nearly blinded by the fluorescent lights. This time, it was eight o’clock in the morning, and weak sunlight also filtered through my window. Charlie would be in daycare by now.

    I opened my eyes just in time to see the door close. And there stood my mother and father in their light blue hospital scrubs. How cute.

    My mother hurried over to my bedside so fast that I hadn’t even seen it, and suddenly her arms enveloped me in a tight embrace.

    “Ack,” I squeaked, “Mom. Rib. Cage.Hurts.”

    “Oh, sorry, sorry!” she said, hands doing their usual fluttering. I was almost scared to turn my head, and instantly regretted when I did.

    My father’s large eyes bore into mine, not a shimmer of that heather color left. The lighting made them look a dark grey. And I’m guessing mine looked the same. He seemed like he didn’t know what to do. Arms straight as his sides, lips hard and set. I could tell he was pretty angry, at what I wasn’t sure, but it was something you didn’t see very often.

    While my mother was checking my bruises, purposely keeping herself busy, my father spoke.

    “What happened?” he asked firmly in a slow voice, his accent making the room all the more tense.

    Isn’t he supposed to be asking if I’m alright, or something? But I knew this interrogation was inevitable, and my mother was going to let him handle it all. Unwillingly, though. You could tell she wanted to speak.

    Before answering, I put one long-fingered hand out in defense. “Before you lose that stronghold of faux self control, know one thing.” His eyes slightly narrowed at my sarcasm. Like father like daughter.

    “I wasn’t looking for trouble. If you think for one second that I was searching for him, you’re crazy.” I finished.

    He walked a little closer, impatience radiating off of him, “Then what the hell were you doing, Ambré? Why. Was. He. With. You?”

    I sighed before spilling the whole story. I began with how my car ran out of gas and how my phone had died. He shook his head at that. Then I continued with the whole ambush in the alleyway, not mentioning that they were threatening to rape me. I didn’t want me father to fly off the edge. Then, finally, I told him that Louis had been following me.

    He tried to push for details, “You mean you talked to him?”

    “Non, papa,” I said in French while shaking my head, “I was unconscious when he brought me here. But…I know it was him.”

    His expression became concerned and sullen. “Merde.” He muttered. “If he thinks he can just walk away from a thing like this, he has another thing coming.” He practically started pacing.

    Not knowing what to say, I became silent. This whole thing was horribly confusing. So many questions needed answering. Why hadn’t Louis just stayed here with me? Though, that would’ve caused a lot of unwanted attention. I lie there as my mother stoked my hair and my father fumed silently. Though it was a little comforting to be able to tell someone the almost-whole story, I was regretting it.

    Suddenly, my mother’s cell phone rang. As see looked down at it, she muttered, “Blaine.” My father turned towards her, and panicking, I said, “Don’t tell him anything!”

    “I have to tell him you’re in the hospital! What do you mean?”

    “Just don’t tell him the details. Only say the bare minimum.” I warned. I swear to god if she even thought the name Louis I’d-

    “Sweetie, of course I won’t. say anything about Lou-“

    “Shh!” I hissed.

    She sighed, standing up and walking out of the room to answer the phone. I heard her voice out in the hallway, and then sank back into the bed again. Oh, the frustration.

    It was silent for a moment, before my father opened his mouth again.

    “How long do you think you’re going to be able to keep this up?”

    I refused to look at him, only narrowing my eyes.

    “As long as I have to.” I didn’t want to have to tell Blaine about Charlie. I didn’t need to. I know I am selfish, but I don’t want to lose him.

    “He’s going to put the pieces together one way or another. And it isn’t going to be pretty.”

    “Not if I can help it.” I raised my voice.

    “You cannot avoid this, Amb-“

    “I refuse. Re-fuse,” I annunciated, “To have my life fall to pieces again. I love Blaine. I love Charlie. I’m thinking about my child’s future. I want him to grow up as your son. My brother. Not as my mistake. Or without a father.”

    “You cannot always have what you want. He will wonder one day. He will ask where his green eyes came from, and you will not be able to lie. He will ask questions. You will have to tell him.”

    I slammed my fist down, “You think I don’t know that?!” I shrieked.

    His eyes widened slightly, and he quieted.

    He was pushing me. And we both know, or moreover, should know, not to do that to each other. I looked away again. My father knew that he’d hit a nerve. A huge, sensitive nerve.

    It was silent, yet again, as we both listened to my mother’s muffled voice outside the door.

    “And what about Louis?”

    I couldn’t help it, I flinched. Thinking about that long, strong body. His arms hard, but somehow soft carrying me away from trouble. His hair, how it gleamed in the afternoon sun. His eyes, how-

    “I-” Have to let him go.

    Just as my father was about to reply, my mother opened the door. It was hard to hide my relief.

    “Oliver,” she asked, acknowledging my dad, “They need us.”

    He sighed, giving me a backward glance as he walked out.

    “Blake is coming to visit.” My mom said, “Feel better, hon. Just call if you need anything.”

    I nodded, quite frankly tired, and she walked out.

    Now, to tackle Blaine.


    I had jumped into my car the second Amber’s mother had mentioned the word hospital. Barely even heard what she was saying to me, I was speeding so fast. Was she okay? Is she awake? I could only ask questions.

    She had run out of gas on her way home last night. Why hadn’t she called me? Because her phone was dead. So she decided to walk home. And had been attacked. It killed me to know she was hurt.

    Now, after seeing Amber’s car and parking next to it, I speed-walked down the brightly-lit hallways, trying to find the correct room number that Mrs. Rousseau had given me. Nurses gave me strange looks as I passed by, quickly moving out of my way.


    I came to a halt at the right one, and quickly walked in.

    There she was, slender body lying on a hospital bed, looking pale and restless. Her grayish eyes landed on me, and I simply couldn’t read her expression.

    I opened my mouth, only to catch myself. She’s probably already been through a lot, and my questions won’t help.

    She gave me a truly helpless look, then held her arms out. I hurried over , slowly wrapping my arms around her slim frame with extreme caution. My face went in her dark hair as I sighed. Only then did I realize that I’d been holding my breath.

    She too, sighed, arms going around my neck as felt her lips on my head.

    “You scared me.” I whispered.

    “I’m sorry,” she said softly. Her hand traced along my shoulder blade. I pulled up slowly to look at her. No bruises or cuts that I could see. But she was obviously hurt somewhere. She took in small, short breaths, seeming to wince while doing so.

    “I’ll find them.” I said in a hard voice, referring to the men who had hurt her.A nd I would. They had another thing coming.

    But she shook her head, gently touching my hand. “I don’t need any more trouble. I’d worry. Please. Promise me you won’t. Plus, I stabbed one of them with my car key anyway.”

    My eyebrows furrowed together, picturing it in my head. Looking behind me at her things, I glanced at the car key. No signs of blood on it. Maybe someone cleaned it off.

    I sighed, straightening up and looking out the window. “How bad are you hurt?”

    “Stitches on my head. Bruised ribcage. And abdomen.” Good, no broken bones. But I was still concerned.

    “How do you feel?” I asked, brushing a piece of her hair back. “I’ll be fine. My parents will probably be able to discharge me soon.” She answered.

    Then I remembered one of my bigger questions, “And…how exactly did you get here?”

    Amber paused, looking away for a second. “It’s fuzzy.” She mumbled.

    “But what do you remember?”

    “My nurse said that some man brought me in when I was unconscious.”

    I flinched, “Do they know who he is?”

    She shook her head.

    “Do you?”

    She sighed, then after a moment, “No.”

    I looked down at her, only wanting to hold her again. But I was afraid to hurt her.

    “I’m sorry for all of the questions. I just..-“ she interrupted.

    “It’s okay,” she gave a weak smile, “I’d be doing the same for you.”

    I returned her grin, leaning down to kiss the top of her forehead. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t have been there. I hate how you had to walk in that part of town.”

    “It was my fault, really. I didn’t charge my phone or fill up my tank.”

    “Weren’t you cold?”

    “Freezing. I forgot my jacket in my dorm on top of all that.” She shook her head.

    “You know, I think I saw your car in the parking lot. I thought that you’d brought yourself here.” I said.

    She didn’t say anything, only looked the other way. “I don’t know how it got there.”

    Once again, I sighed. Turning around to sit in the chair next to her bed, I went to move her stuff off of it. Then a saw black material underneath her purse.

    “Wait, Amber. I thought you said you forget your jacket.” I said, puzzled. I hadn’t ever seen her wear this particular jacket before. Her head snapped over then, looking at it. A weird look passed over her face, but then it was gone. I couldn’t tell what it was. She didn’t speak for a moment.

    “That’s not mine.” She finally said.

    Still confused, I reached down to pick up the jacket. It was definitely a guy’s. Black leather sleeves a little too long to fit me. But it looked like it would fit a slimmer person.

    “The nurse said that the man who brought me had my things with him. Maybe he put it around me to keep me warm or something.” She looked…uneasy. Like me, she was examining the jacket. For some reason, this bothered me. I could smell the scent coming off of it. Strong cologne. Checking the tag, I saw it was in another language. French. But it probably said nothing of importance. Just the size or something.

    “Looks nice.” She muttered.

    “Huh,” I said, shrugging my shoulders then slinging it over the chair before sitting down. His loss, I guess, whoever he was.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:51 pm

    “Wait, so you really stabbed that guy with your key?” came a not-so-quiet whisper from across the library table. I looked up from my History book at Mel in frustration for the fifteenth time in an hour, my fingers pulling away from the laptop keyboard.

    It was Monday now, and I’d been discharged from the hospital Saturday morning. Mel had come to visit me right after Blaine on Friday and I’d told her everything, but she was still poking me for “extra-juicy details”.

    “You’re giving me a headache, kid.” I mumbled, absent-mindedly brushing my fingers against the stitches on the back of my head. Hopefully they’d be removed soon.

    Her aqua eyes didn’t even blink, but she waved her hand at me impatiently.

    I sighed, cradling my cheek against a propped up arm. “Yeah, you’d be surprised what happens after the adrenaline starts pumping.” I said un-enthusiastically.

    “Did you see…his face?” she asked louder this time. A girl with tired eyes and glasses looked up annoyed from a few tables down.

    My eyes widening in alarm, I slapped her hand from across the table, and she let out a giggle. “No. Now, let me finish this paper, I have to finish.”

    “Aww, come one. I just wanna know more about Lou-“ I cut her off with a tiny stop on her foot.

    “Owww! What was that f-” Mel whined before snapping her mouth shut.

    Past rows and rows of books, I saw the library door open. Blaine walked in, accompanied by a stockier light blonde haired boy. One of his best friends, Jake Wynters.

    Melissa’s had the biggest crush for Jake since Junior year in high school.

    “Ohh, look who it is.” I teased, looking away from Blaine, who was currently glancing around the library. Presumably for a seat, I guessed.

    “Good, maybe you’ll finally stop with the interrogations.” I muttered. Mel flashed me a dirty look, “Excuse me?”

    I smirked in return. “Now hush up, they’re coming over.” just in time to see Blaine and Jake spot us.

    Flustered, Mel smoothed her shirt, before moving her hands up to her hair. Within a matter of moments, the boys had strode up to us.

    “Hey,” came from Blaine in his deep voice as he planted a quick kiss on my lips. I smiled as he took a seat next to me, dropping his book bag to the floor.

    “Whaddup, whaddup?” Jake said in a fake voice, all the while smirking as he sat across from Blaine. Next to Mel. The guys seemed oblivious to her extreme edginess. I held back a laugh, turning to Jake, “Long time, no see.”

    “I should say the same to you, Frenchie.” He said, flashing his signature smile. I could sense Mel practically melting across from me. Jake Wynter was one of the most gorgeous guys in our grade. Also one of the most eligible bachelors. With his white-blond fohawk and ice blue eyes, the girls drooled over him. Including Mel.

    I rolled my eyes, “Well, where the hell have you been?”

    “Soccer, soccer, soccer.” He said, drumming his hands against the table, “This is my first day off in awhile. And you?”

    Mel flashed me a look while Blaine pulled some books from his bag.

    “Ahh, you know,” I mumbled, tapping my book, “Cramming.” Ms. Grumpy-Glasses was now glaring over at our table. Holding back another smile, I glanced at Blaine still bent over his stuff. Always disorganized.

    “Yeah, yeah.” Jake said boredly, before something flashed beneath his icy irises, “So, I heard from your “boo”, -Blaine sent his a look- “that some of those West Side boys were hitting up on you.”

    I groaned in response, leaning into Blaine. He’d finally gotten his book out, and grabbed my hand in response, his thumb tracing my palm underneath the table.

    “You’re not the first girl I’ve heard of,” continued Jake, “Those guys really need to be taught a lesson.”

    Rolling my eyes, I said, “Not you too.” Blaine looked from me to Jake.

    “Hey, no one beats up my best friend’s girl and get away from it.” I just shook my head. Men.

    “Got any battle wounds?” Jake asked. I turned my head, lifting my hair up to show him the one and a half inch, stitched-up cut. “Not that impressive.”

    “Pretty gruesome.” He replied as I settled back again. I was gonna get Blaine for telling Jake. What did they think they were going to do? Go looking for those guys?

    I shrugged it off before Jake turned to Mel, poking her arm, “Why so quiet, Mel Gibson?” Her eyes widened the slightest bit as she nervously smiled back at him. I lightly tapped her foot.

    “Oh- uh –just tired.” She stuttered. Jake just grinned back, looking at all of us. “So Hayden is throwing as party at our parent’s house tonight. Wanna come?”

    Hayden Wynter’s, Jake’s Junior brother. The Wynter’s were loaded, and they had this huge, gorgeous mansion. But a party? Oh, joy. Just what I needed…or, wait. Maybe it was. I could use a distraction.

    “Yeah, sounds like fun.” Blake gave me his upraising stare after I spoke.

    “Sweet. Everyone’s gonna be there. It’ll be great.” Jake answered.

    Mel turned her head, attempting conversation, “So I guess your parents are out of town?”

    Jake winked, “You know it.” In response, Mel anxiously tapped her feet.

    Blake smiled, wrapping his arm around my waist. But I still saw him questioning me with his golden-honey eyes.

    Mel gave a tiny laugh, “Well, we’ll be there!”

    Jake smirked, grabbing his bag as he stood up, “I’ll see you guys later tonight. Say Eight o’clock?”

    “Yeah, bro.” said Blaine.

    “Be careful, Frenchie.” Jake called as he walked away. I smiled in return, “Oh, and bye, Melly-Mel!”

    Mel gave a small wave as she smiled exuberantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw movement. So I turned my head to the bookshelves. Nothing. Just being paranoid.

    Uneasy, I shook it off. The girl with the glasses seemed to flash us an expression of frustration before picking up her laptop and storming out.

    And as I turned back to my book, Blaine’s arm still around me, I felt his concerned stare.
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:52 pm

    "You're sure you want to go to this party?" Blaine's deep, concerned voice sounded from next to me. We were walking hand in hand towards his car in the chilly night air. The dorm parking lot wasn't all that quiet. There were a few people getting in and out of their cars, either idly chatting or hurrying off to their rooms. For the past few weeks, I've been scanning peoples' faces. Constantly. Sometimes they'd stare back, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me. But I really couldn't help it. It was just a paranoid, subconscious thing.

    I sighed - another thing I'd been doing a lot of lately - and then looked up to study his profile. Because of the parking lot lamps, every little detail of his face was present. His golden-blonde hair was getting a little long, falling a little past his eyebrows and lightly brushing his collar. You could tell it annoyed him by how much he reached up to flick little wavy pieces out of his eyes. But yet, he kept it that way. Probably because of the little hints that I'd dropped about how I liked it. I gave a tiny smirk at that, my gaze continuing down the rest of his face. He had a very strong facial structure. Sharp jawline, straight, long nose, deep set amber eyes with a strong, dark brow. If I had a dollar for how many times that I caught a girl staring at him. . .well. I could be wearing Vera Wang and Jimmy Choo's instead of my dark skinny jeans, tan boots, and off-the-shoulder navy sweatshirt that I got from the local strip mall. But, I mean, who could blame them? Blaine Harrison has been eye candy since freshman year of high school. Tall, strong, athletic, dashing smile, and great personality? Those were only a few of his many traits. You'd think getting that much attention would make him full of himself. But he couldn't care less.

    Before answering, I laced my fingers between his, "I just thought it would be cool to get away from school for one night." And other things, I thought as I murmured. His hand tightened lightly before letting go. We'd reached his red sports car - a graduation gift he'd gotten from his dad while I was away in Paris - and he opened my door for me, then walked to the driver's side. We both slid in the car, and I could tell he was contemplating his reply.

    "I mean, you're sure you feel alright?" he turned towards me slightly, worried eyes trailing from my rib cage to the abdomen like he could see the bruises through the fabric. I leaned over to him, "I'll be alright. Nothing hurts." I brushed my lips against his before applying full pressure. In return, his hand went to my hair, weaving through it carefully. I felt his fingers accidentally brush the stitches on the back of my head and he pulled back a little, probably expecting me to flinch or something. Instead, I just continued kissing him down to his neck slowly. It hadn't bothered me, but I could tell something was wrong as his hand lingered against my cheek.

    I stopped, pulling back to look at him. He just cleared his throat and started the car, hot air blowing from the vents as he began to pull out of the parking lot. I settled back into the seat, slightly pulling my eyebrows together.

    "Blaine." I stated. He answered with a, "Hmm?" keeping his eyes on the road.

    "What's up?"

    He blinked once as we pulled up to a stop light, flicking the blinker on. He glanced at me, "What do you mean?"

    Giving him a look, "Oh, don't play dumb with me."

    He sighed heavily, brushing his hair back, "It's just that. . .I-" he paused.

    I waved him on. "I thought you'd be. . you know, more distant because of that whole ordeal. But you're acting as if nothing happened."

    Irked, I looked at him, "Shouldn't you be happy that I'm not traumatized?"

    "Amber, to be honest, it's freaking me out." he said as the light flashed green and he continued driving.

    I shut my mouth at that. And it was silent for a few moments.

    "I know what those guys were planning to do to you." he murmured.

    Now it was my turn to play dumb, "What do y-" He cut me off.

    "They were going to rape you."

    Again, I stayed quiet. There had been a reason I hadn't told him. And this had been it. That, and I didn't want him freaking out.

    "They didn't." I stated.

    "But they could have!" he spat, raising his voice. He continued steering as I sat there. He continued, "And some random man got there in the nick of time, right before you blacked out.You say he saved you, but all you can do is really guess, Amber. You don't know what he did. Or what happened to the other two. He could have done something to you while you were unconscious."

    My stomach clenched. He was irritated. "Nothing hap-"

    He cut me off again, "How do you know? I swear to God, I'll find them. And will make them pay for what they did."

    Swiftly, my hand went over to his. He'd began shaking, and the car was steadily speeding faster. "Blaine, Blaine! Nothing happened, okay? I know it for a fact. Doctors check out stuff like that. They said I was fine." I tried hard to calm him down, knowing about his temper. It rarely flared, but when it did, it could be bad. And it surprised me how quickly this conversation had swerved.

    Upon hearing my last statement, he calmed a little, car drifting to normal speed. And he was only slightly quivering. Slowly, I stroked the hair from his eyes, feeling his clenched jaw. "Baby," I cooed, "It's alright."

    We'd pulled into a gated neighborhood, seeing a large, lighted mansion come into view. You could already hear the loud music and see the people dancing in front of the windows. After he'd parked and turned off the car, Blaine shut his eyes and let out a shuddering breath."

    "You're sure you're fine? Just say the word and I'll give you some space." He said quietly.

    "Blaine." I paused, "Look at me." Almost reluctantly, he turned his head to look at me, eyes practically radiating worried.

    "I *want* you to be here for me. I need you to be. Please, please. Just stop. Settle down and listen," my hand went to his face again and he gently leaned into it.

    "I love you." I whispered.

    And then I was enveloped in his arms, hands stroking my hair as I kissed his neck again. "And I love you." he replied.

    Smiling, I felt him kiss underneath my ear before pulling away.

    "I'll always protect you, alright? It just kills me to see you get hurt." he stated, golden eyes burning into my heather ones.

    I nodded, and we both exited the car. His arm wrapped around my waist as we walked down the driveway towards the large steps leading into the mansion.

    Houses like this never ceased to amaze me. People were filing in the door, while others parked, wearing party dresses and ridiculously-high heels. I hadn't felt the need to dress up, and I honestly didn't feel like it. But I couldn't say the same for Mel. As Blaine walked under the tall, Roman-style columns leading up to the front door made of glass, I caught a flash of color from inside, instantly knowing who it was. Mel was inside, already dancing the night away in her tiny, emerald strapless dress, red cup in hand. Her fiery red, shoulder-length curls shook all over the place as she bobbed to a mainstream pop song, tons of people doing the same thing around her. I recognized it being a newer one because of the dubstep remixes in the background. I flashed a big grin, pushing away the thought that Mel was already drinking.

    Finally, Blaine and I made it inside, lightly pushing past people who stood next to the walls to chat. I felt him lean down into my ear as he removed his arm from my waist, "I'm gonna go find Jake, alright??" he shouted over the booming bass and chattering people, "I promised I'd help him to set up a few things!" he raised his voice still, even though I could barely hear him. I nodded with a smile.

    "You'll be okay??" he continued. Once again I nodded, "Don't get to drunk, ya hear?" I joked with an exaggerated wink as bodies rubbed against us. With a large roll of his eyes, he smirked, then turned to make his way to the kitchen. He knew better than to drink. Not that he never did, but still. Like me, he had boundaries with that stuff.

    I looked directly in front of me to Mel on the dance floor, my ears still adjusting to the loud noise. On either side, there were curved marble staircases leading to upstairs. There was no telling how many bedrooms there were, but one of them was probably designated for purses and jackets. I moved towards the right staircase, pushing up the sleeves of my sweatshirt as I passed by couples flirting on the steps. All with red cups. I pledged to myself that, tonight, I would stop scanning faces and just enjoy myself.

    When I finally made it to the top to walk down the large, long hallway, my eyes widened. There had to be at least ten doors. On the right wing only! "Holy shit." I muttered. Idly noticing that some of the doors were closed, I saw various pieces of underwear hanging from the doorknobs. Indications that thy were occupied. I never understood why people had sex during a party with a house full of hundred of people. So many ways to get caught. But maybe they liked it that was. Risky. But not very romantic. And then you have those guys - which I saw down the hallway crowded around a door with red lacy lingerie - whispering excitedly with smirks on their faces as they listened with their ears to the door.

    Yeah, definitely NOT romantic. Ignoring it, I turned my attention to the first door on the right. It was cracked. No underwear. But still, as I opened the door, I cautiously peeked around the corner.

    It was empty. And I'd found the right room. The music became muffled as I walked in, saving me from potential deafness. Jackets were thrown everywhere across the large bed and floor, as were purses. I scanned around for Mel's, easily finding the shimmery one, and hid mine underneath. Jake kept it pretty cold in the house, so I decided to just leave on my sweatshirt.

    As I walked back into the hallway, I stared down the other long hallway directly across from me, ignoring the noises and snickers behind me. There were a few more people ahead then there were in this one. And two girls in short dresses, one blonde, the other light brown-haired, gossiped and clicked their heels towards the stairs, both giving me the one over. Coming right up behind them as we all walked back down the marble steps, I couldn't help but hear their conversion.

    "Yeah!" one squealed, "Sadie told me she transferred a couple of weeks ago."

    "Ugh, pa-lease!" her friend answered with a snotty look on her face, "She's probably just another French whore."

    My eyes widening and stomach clenching, I almost tripped down a step when I realized who they were talking about. Sophia.

    "Whatever, Lila. You're probably just jealous becuase she caught Matt Burkoff's attention." her friend accused.

    Lila's mouth widened into a little "o" and she flipped her chest length hair, narrowing her heavy-mascara-ed eyes, "Me? Jealous? Uhg! Anyone can bleach the shit out of their hair to look like that. And she's probably up there right now!" she mentioned back to the bedrooms, "Spreading her legs for whoever. Slut!"

    "Why don't you just tell her that? I heard that she was invited tonight!"

    My stomach tightened even more as Lila rolled her hazel eyes, "I won't stoop to the bitch's level."

    I had to bite my tongue HARD to keep from saying something to then. Whether Sophia was hiding something from me or not, she was practically my sister. And they were trash-talking her. Now, we were almost to the bottom of the stairs when her friend said something that I knew was coming.

    "Anyways, her brother is GORGEOUS."

    A pang of something went through me as Lila suddenly smirked, "Mmmhmm. I'd like me a piece of him." she said. In return, her friend giggled as we reached the bottom of the stairs. They shuffled on to the drinks table, leaving me gawking like an idiot at the bottom of the stairs. One guy close by gave me a questioning look, so I immediately smoothed my face over. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! I should've known that Sophia would be here. Damn it all to hell. And if she was here...and those girls knew about Louis...then...

    I blocked out the thought. No. I'd pretty much accepted the fact that he was laying low. What would he be doing at some random guy's party?

    Trying to clear my mind, I pushed past the people at the drink table to get to the dance floor. The song had changed by now. It was slower, not as mind-numbing, but still pretty upbeat. I think it was called Motivation by...Kelly Rowland? Yeah. Mel saw me then, waving at me to come join her as couples around began to grind slowly. I walked over to her, only to have her grab my hand with her free one and drag me deeper into the floor. "Nice outfit," she said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes.

    She began to laugh, making me follow suit. As we began to move to the beat, I shouted over the music, "How many of those have you had?" my eyes moving to her red cup, as I swayed my hips tantalizingly slow. "This is my second!" she replied, smiling as she lifted her arm up when the chorus came. Her head slowly rolled to the beat.

    "Cheap drunk." I teased. She looked up with mock hurt, only to start laughing. "Hey! I am not! I'll be good for awhile."

    "Yeah, yeah, yeah." I said, smirking.

    We continued dancing this way for a few more songs. Hips swaying, arms moving up and around, having hairography moments when necessary. It wasn't until the end of Take Over Control that I noticed Blaine and Jake watching us. Jake had his eyes fixed on Mel, grinning widely. And Blaine was watching me, also smirking. When I nudged Mel, she waved her empty cup to them enthusiastically, making the two chuckle. As I towed Mel behind me, Jake leaned over to Blaine, all the while looking at Mel, causing Blaine to start laughing again. Oh, Mel.

    We came up to them within a matter of seconds as the song changed.

    "Great party, eh?" Jake asked Mel and I. Well, mostly Mel.

    "TOTALLY legit." she said, giving a big smile.

    "Yeah, Jake. This house is HUGE." I said, looking up at the high ceilings.

    Jake just smiled, "Lots of bedrooms right?" and then winked.

    I just rolled my eyes, feeling Blaine wrap his arm around me once again. "Hayden sure knows how to throw 'em." Blaine said.

    "Hell yeah he does!" yelled Jake, his gaze suddenly fixing on something behind me, "Oh, speak of the devil!"

    "Hey, freshies!" came Hayden's booming voice from behind me. Jake, Mel and Blaine fixed their attention in that direction. "I have someone I want you to meet." I heard him continue.

    Just as I turned around, I caught something flash in Mel's expression. But I didn't have to even wait to see what the cause of it was. The person standing next to Hayden caused me to stop my breathing, my thinking. And I lost my composure.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

    Posts : 823
    Join date : 2010-11-01
    Age : 22
    Location : USA

    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:52 pm

    I knew that voice all too well. And the second I heard it, a million memories flashed through my brain. But one in particular stood out.


    Blowing a shuddering, hot breath out of my mouth and seeing the steam rise in the cold morning air, I looked sullenly in front of me as I walked, pulling my light grey jacket closer. The big-bricked condo building sat threateningly ahead.
    My father was on my left, an anticipated and excited expression on his face. The one that caused a tiny light to shine behind his crystal-textured heather eyes. Whenever I saw it, I usually couldn’t help but smile. But not today. Hell, maybe not ever again. I wouldn’t be smiling anytime soon. No. Definitely not.

    And this weather didn’t even seem to affect him. Sharp, brisk wind lightly blew my hair back away from face, causing me to bury my hands even further into my pockets and shield my reddening cheeks into my collar. But not my dad. It didn’t even phase him. I guess he was used to it though, having grown up here.

    Still. I was numb. Yes, physically. But mostly mentally.

    Every single thing I looked at somehow reminded me of Blaine.

    Turn my head to the right, and I see I phone booth. Then I remember a warm summer night, almost six months ago. Blaine and I ran hand in hand down the deserted Philadelphian sidewalks, street lamps lighting up the dark streets. We were clad in light clothes, shorts and t-shirts, the humid air surrounding us as we slipped out past curfew in the June dusk. We were all laughs, thinking ourselves such rebels as we continued to sprint for a few blocks. Adrenaline pumping due to my excitement, I remember pulling him to a stop before leaning back on the closest thing to me. A red phone booth. Both of us taking in heaving breaths, we couldn’t help but beam, smiles glued to our faces. I would never forget how he looked at that moment. He leaned towards me, hands against the phone booth on either side of my head, looking down at me. His golden hair loosely clung to his forehead, warm, honey eyes boring into mine as he caught his breath. Blaine’s face became more serious, almost like he realized something, and I quieted as our gazes locked. I felt a hand on my chin then, tipping my head upwards. As I felt the warm, tingling pressure on my mouth, I instantly melted against him, closing my eyes as my hands clutched at the fabric of his t-shirt. The hand on my chin moved to my cheek, then laced itself into my hair, the other pressing me to him on my lower back. I stood on my toes, trying to get closer to him. It was like he was oxygen himself. And I couldn’t get enough. As I moved my hands up to the nape of his neck, the smell of our sweat mingling in the air, his tongue ran along my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth eagerly. As I felt his hot breath in my mouth as our tongues moved together, I let out a soft, tiny moan, causing him to cling to me more firmly. Blaine’s smooth hand guided itself underneath my shirt, and I felt him begin to explore my chest eagerly. Earning him another louder moan. In return, he broke the kiss for air, roughly whispering my name before traveling down my jaw and neck as I felt excitement stir in his pants. As I began to grin, his hands moved down to my butt, pulling my hips closer to his. All of the sudden, he lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he leaned against the phone booth, pulling me back to his lips with a smile-

    I cut the memory short, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks as a sharp pang of pain went from my heart to my feet. For an instant, I was glad I was cold, or else someone would’ve asked why my face was pinched and reddened. Blaine and I had been dating for about a year that summer. I couldn’t even be happy about the recollection anymore. The pain was overpowering it.

    We’d broken up in August. Three months ago. I’d thought he was being over-protective of me, getting nervous every time I hung out with my guy friends. I accused him of having trust issues. And then we both blew up at each other.

    Breakups have different stages. And depending on the situation, the can come fast or slow.

    Anger. Storming away. Never wanting to see them again. Wanting to hit something. To yell. To scream. To lose your temper at anyone who asks you what’s wrong. Not thinking straight.

    Frustration. Not knowing how to feel about it. Trying to decide if you should hate them, or go running back. Thinking that you maybe overreacted. Some stubborn people never get to the next one:

    Regret. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. You were just being paranoid, nothing was wrong. Blowing things out of proportion.

    And then:

    I want you back. Even if I WAS wrong, I should’ve just talked to you about it before blowing up on you. And starting to see the actual truth.

    And it seems as though I will be forever stuck in that stage, seeing how my parents both got great job offers here in The City of Love. Naturally they were thrilled, but waited until after I they’d ran it past me to accept. When they had asked, I was unemotional. Blank. I honestly didn’t care. About anything anymore. I was in between anger and frustration. I’d said yes without blinking. But maybe part of me was saying to say yes. To get away from all of the hurt. The painful eye contact in the street with him, but no words. For months. Nothing. But I now realized that another part of me said to stay.

    I glared at the phone booth; half wishing it would burst into flames. Or maybe just be burned out of my memory so I couldn’t hurt myself anymore. Now, I wouldn’t ever see Blaine again. And even if I did, it’s not like he would want me back anyway. I was a royal bitch. I was his girlfriend. He was just scared of losing me.

    I didn’t like it in Paris already.

    “Honey,” I heard a female voice from my right, ripping me out of my thoughts. Mother. In her red pea coat and black hat, “Lighten up and have a good time?” she almost suggested as we walked up the steps. My father, still happy-looking, knocked on the door quickly, antsy to see his best-friend-since-birth and his family.

    “You’ll like the du Ponte’s.” she continued. I didn’t say anything, face not changing one bit as I tried to make myself warm. I banished all thoughts of Blaine. Words couldn’t describe how much I didn’t want to be here.

    Suddenly, you could hear the door being unlatched from the inside, and then the door was pulled open. There stood a very tall – about 6’3” - still well-built middle-aged, handsome man. His l dark brown, curly hair was clipped neat, sprinkled with grey just like my father’s, and his eyes were a dark grey, the color reminding me of thunderstorm clouds. A wide, perfect, and white smile lit up his whole face. He and my father were in an embrace before I could properly take in all of the details. They patted each other’s backs and said loud greetings in French and then pulled away, looking at each other and laughing, the smiles ever present.

    The man then looked to me and my mother as he stood at the threshold, excitedly inviting us in. After he had shut the door and warm air blissfully surrounded me, he then took a few steps toward my mother, and they greeted each other the European way: a kiss to both cheeks, while he said, “Ahhh, Stephania. It’s been too long.” My mother returned his grin, saying, “Good to see you, Jean.” stepping back before looking at me. And then I had three pairs of eyes on me. Jean also stepped back, seemingly examining my face with that all-too-happy expression. Honestly not knowing what to do, I cracked a tiny smile that didn’t reach my eyes while my mother and father stood beside him.

    Jean’s expression turned into amazement, “And this is THE Amber Rousseau?” he said in his thick accent, arms going to each of my shoulders, “I remember when you were just a little girl!” he exclaimed, looking me up and down again like I was the sun after a week of clouds. I’d known that I’d “met” the du Ponte’s when I was younger, but of course I didn’t remember it.

    “I knew you would turn into a beautiful woman, but you’ve still taken me by surprise!” he said before he began to kiss my cheeks. I did likewise, blushing from the compliment. “Inherited the eyes I see.” He stated looking back and forth between me and my father. I genuinely grinned as Jean turned to call to the other room.

    “The Rousseau’s are here!” Jean exclaimed, and within seconds I heard footsteps and saw two women enter the family room. The older one, whom I was assuming was Jean’s wife, had light brown, straight hair that fell just beneath her shoulders and the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen, was first. She introduced herself as Gabrielle du Ponte. Following suit, the other woman who looked in her mid-twenties –who had her mother’s hair and father’s eyes – was Sophia du Ponte. She was the daughter. And very, very beautiful. She could be a Victoria’s Secret model. Hell, maybe she was.

    My parents had told me the du Ponte’s names and how many kids they had before we came, obviously because I didn’t remember them. Jean and Gabrielle, and their kids Sophia and . . . what was the other one’s name again?

    Before I could think any harder, I heard faster footsteps from down the hall, and a second later, someone else joined our group. Everybody had turned in anticipation, so I did the same.

    But I knew my facial expression had been different from theirs. What I saw made me lose my façade, my guard, my walls. For a few seconds. I believe I simply gawked at this person. No, not the whole, jaw-dropping-to the-floor thing. But I’m pretty sure my eyes were farther out of my head than usual.

    The man in front of me looked a few years older than myself and was a healthy mixture between his good-looking parents. Actually REALLY healthy. No, above average. WAY above. He got his height from his father and was lithe and smooth-muscled; reminding me off what a professional soccer player looked like. Thick, dark loose waves brushed down his neck, over his ears, and fell a little into his eyes. But his eyes.

    Just a few moments before, I’d thought his mother had the most amazing shades of green in her irises. But his made hers look like a small, starving dog sitting next to a beefy mastiff.

    They were just so big. Deep set, but his long, thick, and dark eyelashes grew up and out, fanning around them. And then: green, green, green. I was fascinated by them. More shades than his mother had, but still the same eye shape. The rings around the irises were a dark, leafy green, and the color began to fade inwards that way. But then began granulating into an almost electrical, bright green. Finally, as the color reached the pupil, it turned into a vivid shade of yellowing-green, streaking through the irises like two burning stars.

    They had to be the most amazing thing I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t stop looking at him. But I suddenly realized, to my embarrassment, that I didn’t know how long I was just standing there. A few seconds, a minute, a month? I honestly didn’t know as my head slightly tipped back to look at him as he moved closer.

    I’d always been good at examining people quickly and keeping my composure about it, but he was making it difficult. He flashed a wide, straight-toothed grin as me like his father. Except the shock of white against his full lips and olive skin caught me by surprise. I’d like to see any another girl try to look at him without completely melting to the floor.

    Wait. Why was he moving closer? Nervousness shot through me, as well as a fluttering sensation that started in my stomach and went down to my knees. What the hell was that? Right now, I chose not to be able to decipher my emotions. It kind of reminded me when I had first met Bla- I cut my thoughts short again. All I could do was smile widely back, his grin genuinely contagious. His stare was intense, burning. If anyone had an angel’s face, he was the one.

    “Louis du Ponte,” came an alluring, deep voice. Thickly accented. I shouldn’t have been surprised about it. Only to be expected to come with the package. But still, my hands shook.

    He must get this reaction every time a girl sees him for the first time. He’s probably used to it. Maybe he basks in people’s attention and acts like a total boasting ass about it. Maybe he used his looks to get everything.

    If he was hungry? Smile at the waitress, and get some free food.

    Maybe he thought that waitress was pretty? Talk to her in that bedroom voice of his, and he could bed her in five seconds flat, probably.

    I don’t know how he couldn’t.

    No, I was being stereotypical. But COME ON. So many things were flashing through me at this moment; I didn’t know which emotion to settle on. It was a miracle that I didn’t pass out. Sure, he was very, very, VERY attractive. But there was something else there too. Little did I know then that it was a good vibe. I just mistook it for completely and utter fascination with his whole being. But I remembered my manners.

    “Amber Rousseau.” I managed to say, still smiling and resisting the urge to shake his hand. Suddenly, both of his hands went to my shoulders as his dad’s had before, the smell of his cologne surrounding me. And he kissed me on both cheeks, his five o’clock shadow slightly brushing them as he did so. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear he was giving me the European greeting longer than normal. As I did it back, I think I secretly hoped it would be that way.

    As we both pulled back, our eyes locked again. Something flickered in his. But before I could tell what it was, it was gone.

    And suddenly I didn’t care about his reputation anymore. Or his looks. There was something else there.

    I was completely oblivious to the rest of the people in the room.


    I could’ve told you who it was before even turning around because of the smell. But when I did, I saw the same exact thing as the memory as I looked at the man next to Hayden. The body, the hair, the stubble, the grin. The eyes. The ones I hadn’t seen in half a year. The same eyes that my baby had.

    And it was like I was meeting him for the first time all over again. Even though I was hot from dancing, my palms began to shake and get clammy. I froze up, not breathing. Not moving. Heart beating menacingly faster.

    It was over. My life. I couldn’t lie to Blaine or anyone about anything ANYMORE. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? Why was he here? Why now? Why ever?

    But what happened next took me by complete surprise.

    He reached his hand out toward Mel, who was closest, and introduced himself, “Louis,” As she quickly shook his hand, intoxication aside, her lightly-freckled face paled. I hoped that I hadn’t looked like that when I’d first seen him. I could tell that she was reacting that way because of the way he looked, but then her eyes flicked quickly to me as Louis continued to introduce himself to Jake. Within seconds, he got to my boyfriend.

    “Blaine Harrison,” he said to Louis, sharply shaking his hand. Louis was only a little bit taller than Blaine. Blaine’s face seemed slightly distressed, or confused, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. I wondered why. But Louis. Across his face spread something like recognition.

    I’d told him about Blaine back in Paris ages ago. And as he extended his hand towards me, his eyes trailed to my stomach – why? Because there was no baby? Or because of the bruises? -, then to Blaine’s hand on my waist. Again something flashed in his eyes. Jealously? No, it couldn’t be.

    He smiled at me as I reluctantly took his hand. A hand that was so familiar to me. And something ached inside my chest as I did. Damn it all to hell. “Amber,” I said quietly, not sounding anything like myself as memories flushed through me.

    Hayden’s voice was next, “Louis is new to the University. But he’s already quite the popular one. I trust you’ll all make him welcome?” he joked. Blaine and Jake nodded, giving Louis the one over again and again.

    He was acting like he didn’t know me. Louis was acting like he didn’t know me. What was he doing? Was this part of his plan? Did he even have one? I was sure he did. And an elaborate one at that.

    I couldn’t think anymore.

    My stomach churned, and I felt vomit threaten to rise in my throat. “ANYWAYS,” Hayden continued, shouting over the music, “He’s got more people to meet. And I hear some alcohol calling my name.” he winked. And then like that, they were both gone, pushing their way through the crowd and then disappearing. But before I he was completely gone, I could’ve sworn I saw Louis look back at me.

    There came the nausea again. And also faintness. I saw Blaine look down at me as my eyes stared numbly at nothing in particular.

    “Amber?” he asked as the back of my head throbbed and I swayed, “Amber!”Mel was in front of me then, pulling me out of Blaine’s arms. “Blaine, I think the party is just getting to her head. She didn’t eat anything today.” As I leaned against Mel bleakly, she covered for me. I couldn’t feel anything. Just a throbbing in my chest and head.

    “Here, then let me take her home.” said Blaine, worry in his brown eyes as he stepped towards me again.

    “No, no!” insisted Mel, “I’ve got it. Don’t fret. We’ll be right back.” She finished quickly, pulling me away from Blaine before he could protest.

    And I just let her.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

    Posts : 823
    Join date : 2010-11-01
    Age : 22
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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:53 pm

    ~LOUIS’ P.O.V~

    Leaning against the dark red wall of the hallway, I felt my phone buzz in my jean pocket. I sighed when I saw who it was from.

    FROM: Sophia du Ponte
    TO: Louis du Ponte

    i think she’s here. but not alone.

    Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes and send back a sarcastic reply as the loud music from downstairs echoed through the mansion, I ran a hand through my mop of dark curls. Of course she wasn’t alone. She had that…controlling, over-protective boyfriend of hers permanently attached to her like a barnacle. Blaine Harrison. Now I was sure my expression had twisted into irritation.

    Amber had told me about him while she lived in Paris. When she was mine. I remembered it very clearly. How could I ever forget?

    We’d been sitting on chair atop my condo, admiring the bright stars as we exchanged quiet words. Even though her porcelain face was flushed a pale pink and her dark lips were tightly pursed, I could tell it wasn’t from the cold. Amber had been here a couple of months, and her stiff attitude still hadn’t changed. Well, only towards me. And just a little bit. She’d admitted to me that she’d broken up with her boyfriend, and then moved to Paris. Amber didn’t tell me if she wanted him back, or if she felt anger towards him. But she told me that she’d made a terrible mistake, and she felt horrible and guilty. And she’d told me why she’d done it: Because she thought he was very domineering and easily jealous. That was enough conformation for me.

    From the moment we saw each other, I saw a tiny amount of light return to her dulling violet eyes. But that light grew a little more every time I talked to her. And I knew it was because of me.

    No, I did not take pride in it. But I began completely infatuated with her. I wanted to make her feel better, wanted to make her smile. How I loved that smile. Despite the fact that she was in obvious pain, she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

    Again, no, I wasn’t pursuing her just because of her looks. Amber Rousseau was different. My past relationships with girls in Paris paled in comparison to just the idea of having her as mine. For once, when a girl met me, see didn’t flutter her eyelashes at me with a flirty smirk on her face or twirl her hair. That was how all of my relationships began. But how could I have known better? People called me a player because of all of the girls I went through. When really, it was quite the contrary. They wanted me only for physical reasons, and then when I tried to talk to them seriously about a relationship, they ignored my words. And that’s why I dropped them all. But, of course, I was popular at my school. And I hated it. Everyone was completely oblivious to the truth. All they cared about was how I looked.

    To anybody else, Amber had been quiet, a cold expression always on her face. And when she did talk, it was blunt and short. But once I could subtly get her alone, her expression would soften, her body relaxed. Sometimes, if I was lucky, she’d look up at me and give a weak smile before turning away.

    No matter how hard she tried to conceal it, though she was good at it, I could see right through to her pain. I wanted to know what the cause of it was. Who had hurt her this much? Who could even bear doing that to a girl like her? Well, I knew whoever Blaine was, was scum. And I loathed him for inflicting the throbbing ache in her heart.

    Why was I so attached to her already? I asked myself that question every day. But I knew it was because I loved her. Truly loved her. How could anybody hate her? I also knew that it was almost impossible for her to want me back as much as I wanted her. And like I said, I became smitten. Amber was all I wanted. I could just imagine her head rested against my chest. My arms around her as her sultry, flowery scent envelopes me. All my other worries were erased. I didn’t care about anybody else or my best friends asking me why I was acting so spacey. It was all her.

    I shook myself out of my memories then, fingers speedily tapping against the keyboard of my phone.

    FROM: Louis du Ponte
    TO: Sophia du Ponte

    where r u?

    Hitting send, I looked around me. I’d gone up the left staircase, into the more crowded hallway. And by more crowded, I meant more couples flirting, drinking, and making out around me. Oh, and more rooms occupied with various pieces of underwear hanging from the doorknobs. Suddenly, the possibility of Amber’s lingerie being on one of the handles made me clench my fists. But then I relaxed, mostly because I knew she would never be stupid enough to do that. And partly because she’d just gotten here, and I would’ve seen her come up the stairs.

    My eyes drifted to both sets of marble steps. And then my breath hitched in my throat. There, walking up the right side, was my love. Her long, slender legs gracefully carried her up the steps, black hair straightened and cascading down her back.
    Even though it wasn’t the first time I saw her, it sure felt like it. And that feeling hit me everytime I laid eyes on her. I’d seen her around campus from my dorm room. Working inside that darkened café from outside the window. Walking down the chilly streets of the bad parts of town. Yes, I had followed her. She’d been asking for trouble driving through there. I remembered seeing those men attack her, kicking and pinning her to the ground. How she fought back at them, not caring that it was two against one. How they began to rip her clothes off. And then I remembered the burning rage. Nobody else has, or will ever affect me like that. She knew I was here, in her hometown.

    I realized that I’ve been acting like a complete fool, practically stalking her and not acknowledging my presence to her. Though I knew that she knew I was here. Sophia wasn’t supposed to come. But she had a little plan of her own. And she pulled me into it, even though I was very reluctant. I’d come here for Amber.

    For my son.

    She left me, and took a piece of me with her. She left to go back to America because of her parents’ jobs. Amber told me to leave her alone. She refused to take my calls, or answer my texts or emails. She blocked me from her social networking sites. She changed her number. Deactivated her email. When I called her parents, they said she wasn’t there.

    This went on for months, before I gave up. I completely changed. I hurt. Words can’t even begin to explain. I was never mad at her. Just horribly confused and upset. I became like her when she’d first come to Paris. And then I understood how she’d been truly feeling. Alone. Broken. Silent. My family didn’t know what to do. And Sophia was livid. I remember her furious whisper to my parents one night: “The one and only thing that ever made him see the truth and made him completely happy, left him. And she won’t come back. She took a part of MY family away. And I want it back, with or without Amber.”

    Why was Amber doing this to me? I never knew. Still don’t. There were so many possibilities. But the one that hurt me the most to think of: She didn’t love me anymore.

    And I guess that seemed to be the case, now that she was back together with that wretched man. Or, at least, that was the explanation that made the most sense. And that’s what Sophia had told me.

    But I was stubborn. I wanted Amber back. I wanted our family together again. Happy, like we had been the few months I’d been able to spend with her and Charlie before they disappeared. I would walk up to her, and tell her how I felt. Profess my undying love for her. It would work.

    Then, after more months of depression, I had an idea that had been growing in the back of my brain, lurking in the darkness. I’d thought it impossible, ridiculous. But then suddenly, I was defiant.

    When I came to Pennsylvania, I’d planned to simply visit. Well, to talk to her. To see my son. To get her back. And that is still what I want.

    But of course, like always, my sister interfered. I’d come to the airport alone. I’d taken my seat for the long, long flight. And then, suddenly, Sophia sat down next to me. Cutting through my strings of protest, she silenced me, relaying her “plans” to me. I thought her ridiculous at first, because her plan could possibly hurt Amber. And I didn’t want that. But she assured me that I would get Amber in the end. And that wiped away all other thoughts. I agreed, and as the plane took off, she launched into her detailed scheme.

    It was a relief to see that Amber was alright again. I remembered carrying her limp, bleeding body from the alleyway and into my car, trying hard to not let the possibility that she may be dying enter my brain.

    As she reached the top of the stairs, Amber turned to the right, walking down the opposite hallway. I was close enough to see her facial expression twist into disgust as she looked at the underwear hanging from a door close by her. Smirking a tiny bit, I watched as she stepped into the closest room. And then my phone buzzed again.

    FROM: Sophia du Ponte
    TO: Louis du Ponte

    with hayden. she just walked up the steps.

    I slid my phone back into my pocket as a couple of girls – faces caked with makeup and dresses like a second skin – brushed past me. They looked like Playboy Bunnies. Back in the day, things like that would’ve caught my attention. But never again.

    Amber then emerged from the room again, reaching the stairs at the same time as the other girls. I slinked farther back into the hallway, so she wouldn’t see me, and watched as she followed behind the other two gossiping girls. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Amber suddenly froze, looking around quickly before hurrying towards the mob of dancers and music. Then I lost sight of her.

    Quickly, I went down the stairs and through a sea of chatting party-goers to find Hayden. Soon enough, as I entered a room with couches and a whole bunch of windows where people were lounging. I saw a familiar head of bleach blonde hair. Walking up behind my sister, I placed a hand on her shoulder. She stopped mid-sentence with a large, bulky sandy-haired man – Hayden –and looked at me.

    Her and I exchanged silent words, a mischievous glimmer in her dark grey eyes. Merde. I didn’t like that one bit. She smirked before sliding out the door, hips swaying a little more than necessary. A few males turned their heads, and I tried hard to cover my annoyance as I turned back to Hayden.

    “Heyyy, man!” his loud voice boomed over the music, the smell of alcohol leaking from his mouth.

    I forced a smile, “Great party.” I said, raising my voice a little.

    “You bet, man!! Look at all the hot chicks!!” he exclaimed, trying nonchalantly to glance in the direction of my sister, “You gonna get lucky tonight?”

    My stomach twisted at that, and I hid my expression. “Maybe,” I lied with a smirk. The only person that I had any lust for was in the other room, probably dancing the night away and-

    My phone buzzed.

    FROM: Sophia du Ponte
    TO: Louis du Ponte

    now do what we came here to do. she’s on the dance floor.

    I sighed to myself, pocketing the phone and looking back to Hayden, “Wanna introduce me to some people?” I asked with an exaggerated wink. Plan commencing.

    He let out a booming laugh, “Hell yeah, bro,” he patted my back, pulling me in the right direction, “Follow me.” And we made our way towards the dance floor, the music getting louder. Hayden spotted two girls with cups in hand, and I recognized them as the ones walking down the stairs earlier.

    As we walked up to them, they both did the usual as they saw me. Eyes widening, fake eyelashes fluttering, fixing their posture by shoving their pushed-up chests forward. Again, I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

    “Louis,” Hayden said, “This is Lila and Tracey”

    “Nice to meet you,” I murmured, turning on my fake charm. The Tracey girl seemed to practically melt, while Lila twirled her blonde hair and smirked. “Oh, I’ve heard about you.” She drawled. I would never understand girls’ infatuation with foreigners. I smiled in return, glancing to looking in the sea of dancing people.

    A flash of emerald caught my attention. It was Amber’s best friend, Mel, I think. She was dancing to the fast beat, one hand fist pumping as her satin dress-clad petite body jumped around. And, to be expected, Amber was next to her, in way different attire. An off-the-shoulder navy sweatshirt and tight jeans. I could see every lean curve on her lower half, and her sweatshirt raised up for half a second, revealing a toned, pale stomach. Her hips swung tantalizing around, hands moving through her hair seductively as she flashed a large smile to her friend. My heart jerked, heat rising up from my stomach to my face with longing. I was sure my eyes were bugging out of my head.

    “Helloooo?” I heard an annoyingly high-pitched voice ask. I swung back around; realizing that I was completely oblivious to what Lila had been saying. I chuckled, “Oh, sorry. I’ve just been kind of out of it lately.” I flashed a fake smile and she giggled, “Oh, it’s fine.” she said, continuing to curl her hair around her finger.

    Just as she was about to say something else when Hayden interrupted her, “Hey, we’ve got more people to meet. Let’s go, Lou.” He pulled me in another direction, leaving behind two pouting women. I mentally sighed in relief ; I didn’t need any clingy sex-crazed women in my life right now. Or ever.

    Hayden continued introducing me to people, all the while my accented voice faked enthusiasm with a smiling façade. But nobody had the long, dark hair and heather eyes I was looking for. I was steadily become more anxious for what I knew would eventually come. I glanced around every few seconds, trying to act nonchalant about it. Then realized I’d lost sight of her. Damn.

    It was when my eyes caught a glimpse of something as Hayden guided me along towards a dark wall of the party, escaping from the grinding crowd, that I lost my composure for half a second.

    “There’s my little bro and his friends.” Hayden piped, “Watch out for that red-hed. She’s had one too many. God only knows what she’d do when she’s wasted.” He winked, “Oh, yeah. And that other fine piece of ass? – I tried with very much difficulty not to narrow my eyes at Hayden- “She’s taken. Blaine Harrison’s girl. Don’t even try. It’s pointless.”

    I fought back a sour look.

    There, in front of us, was a small group of four people chatting over the loud music. Two men, two women. Both guys were tall with the all-American football bodies. One, I recognized as Blaine (I suppressed an urge to make a face) and his hair was almost skater-boy long and gold, the ends flipping up. Annoying. The other, I didn’t know, (I assumed he was Hayden’s brother) but his cropped hair was almost white it was so blond. As for the girls, I recognized Melissa, her red, almost orange hair mussed from all of her dancing as she placed her empty cup on a nearby table. And the only one left in the group that mattered was turned around. All I saw was a waterfall of black hair. But it didn’t matter; my heart still began to race. And we were steadily getting closer.

    “HEY, FRESHIES!!” roared Hayden, shoving me harshly back into reality.

    Finally, when we reached them, my face went back to its façade, hiding all of the emotions flooding through my brain. I placed the generic grin on my face, noticing how Mel’s turquoise eyes bugged out of her tiny head. Whether or not it was because of my looks or because she knew who I was, it didn’t matter. Because as Blaine and his buddy gave me the almost rude one-over, Amber began to turn around.

    And the expression on her face when her eyes met mine…was the definition of surprise. It seemed as though she choked back a gasp, crystal eyes widening slightly. She was trying hard not to lose her cool.

    Well, we had that in common.

    I pushed back the overwhelming lust that was trying to bubble up from inside me. It took a lot of strength to not pull her from Blaine’s grasp and into mine, and press my longing lips to hers. Something I had not done for half a year. But it felt like a lifetime.

    I looked towards Mel, sensing Amber’s eyes on my face like two burning, violet flares. Then I stuck out my hand towards the red-head, introducing myself. She meekly tried to regain her self-control, but failed horribly as I took her clammy palm against mine.

    “Melissa Lovell ,” she weakly said back.

    As I moved on the Hayden’s brother, I saw Blaine’s hand wrap around Amber’s waist tighter. My jaw involuntarily tightened as I turned to Blaine.

    “Blaine Harrison,” he huskily replied, suspicious eyes scanning my face. Smug, arrogant bastard. I could hit him. God, how could Amber STAND this guy? Our hands clasped, each of us gripping way tighter than necessary. Okay, a t least I had a reason for my hostility. This man gets to call my only love his. To hold her. Hug her. Bury HIS face in HER hair. Touch her breasts. Her waist. Slip his hands into the back pocket of her jeans. Kiss her soft neck. Her cheeks. Her lips. Caress her warm, naked body. Make love to her-

    I mentally slapped myself, half-expecting my vision to turn red.

    But he didn’t even know who I was. What did he have against me? That just proved what Amber had told me years ago true: He was overprotective.


    And finally, it was time for my sister’s plan to initiate. I turned to Amber, the only woman I have and will truly ever love, and took her soft hand in mine. Like Mel’s, it was slightly clammy as I shook it briefly, but purposefully a little longer than necessary as tiny electric shocks went through my whole body.

    Blaine’s eyes never left me, watching like a hawk. And Amber was completely oblivious. I wanted to take her stunned face in both of my hands and just tell her to leave this manipulating fiend. But, not only would it be highly inappropriate and impractical, it would ruin “Sophia’s plan”.

    “Amber.” I could barely hear her speak as she pulled her hand gently back. I wondered if she still felt the sparks.

    “Louis is new to the University. But he’s already quite the popular one. I trust you’ll all make him welcome?” I heard Hayden say, and then he tugged me backwards abruptly, back into the mob. I didn’t let the disappointment show in my face as I regretfully moved away from stricken Amber. I actually hated seeing her that way. Almost broken. It was like she’d just shattered a vase into a million pieces, gluing it back together painstakingly, and then had someone else smash it to smithereens again. I felt horrible for having caused that pained expression.

    Finally losing sight of her, Hayden began pulling me to another group of people, “Hey, man.” I said, trying to mimic his tone of laid-back speaking, which was hard to do with my thick accent, “I’m gonna go grab a drink. But thanks for showing me around.”

    “No problem, bro.” he chuckled as he patted me on the back, leaving me to myself finally in the large kitchen. I was surrounded by the smell of sweating partiers and booze, replaying the image of Amber’s face over and over.

    I caught my breath then, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip as some girls watched me, flirty looks in their eyes. But I ignored them, walking swiftly to the less crowded balcony.
    The Zealous Irish-Italian
    The Zealous Irish-Italian

    Posts : 823
    Join date : 2010-11-01
    Age : 22
    Location : USA

    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Capri on Sun Sep 04, 2011 1:54 pm

    ~MEL’S P.O.V.~

    Damn him.

    I can’t believe he’d have the audacity to do this to my best friend.

    My infuriation with that French shit disturber practically burned away my previous drunken state. Two beers. Big woop. I wasn’t a cheap drunk. I was just enjoying having fun. But now this.

    Dragging the girl who might as well have been my sister up the large marble staircase and away from everyone.

    Amber was scaring me. I’ve never seen her eyes so blank. So far away. I’d given up trying to get her attention in my maddened condition.

    The last time I’d seen that look on her face was . . . well, never.

    And I knew that meant this was bad.

    That man was going to hell.

    “Move.” I demanded at every other person blocking our way. They gave as rotten looks, and I barely managed to not sneer at them.

    Her feet barely moved as we ascended, like a robot’s. I was trying to climb them as fast as possible, but at the same time, I was carefully making sure she was touching every maroon-carpeted step. If we didn’t hurry and get away from the pulsing music, I knew she’d faint.

    “C’mon, honey.” Just a low murmur, I didn’t know how much she could take, “We’re almost there.” We were at the top of the right staircases. Still crowded, but not as near as congested as the left wing. Might as well be a whore house over there.

    As we shuffled down the hall, my eyes were like blades, slicing across everybody’s faces. Looking out for him. Or his sister.

    That bastard.

    More of her weight began to transfer over to me as I pulled a vacant – there was no underwear - room’s door open. Amber was losing it.

    Standing behind her a couple of inches below, I placed my hands on her shoulders firmly, urging her towards the bed. Her body obeyed, eyes slightly dropping, as if she were fighting sleep. Amber sat on the bed and leaned backwards like a dead weight. Thank God for the wall being there, because she just slumped against it, her lower half diagonally sprawled across the pale gold comforter.

    I’d expected her to black out as I stood there in horror, but her eyes were still open, the incandescent light from the lamp on the chestnut-colored bedside table causing the color of her irises to blend in with the surrounding white. In fact, her skin was all but the same shade.

    The sound of approaching footsteps caused my eyes to rip away from Amber. “Shit,” I muttered, hurrying to the door. I reached to lock it. But then. I saw there wasn’t one. What the hell?

    Voices grew louder, and without hesitation, I reached under my dress and ripped off my purple, lacy thong, sliding it down over my heels before opening the door. Wrapping it around the doorknob and slamming the door shut, I heard a few male cheers come from the hallway and somehow managed not to fling the door back open and tackle them.

    It was now completely quiet, well, almost. A dull throbbing pulse of the music from downstairs could be heard. It left my ears ringing as I turned back around.

    Amber was the same. Her eyes watched me, but at the same time, she was a thousand miles away. To think, a guy could do this too her. Almost nineteen, this girl has been forced to grow up too fast for anyone’s comfort. Of course, Amber has always been very mature growing up. Smart. Made the right decisions.

    Well, usually.
    In my brain flashed pictures of a chubby-cheeked beautiful baby Charlie.

    But nevertheless, Amber had been through so much. And no one but her family and I could understand. She never once complained, that girl. I didn’t know how on earth she did it. You could tell it beat her up. Keeping secrets. Dark shadows seemed to permanently linger under her eyes. At least she had her mother to take care of the baby.

    Yes, Blaine needed to stay out of it. “He doesn’t, nor will he ever have to know.” Amber had once said to me as we walked back to class a couple days prior. Whatever she wanted, I wouldn’t disagree.

    Until tonight I’d thought Blaine could eventually have to find out. Something would make that happen. And I couldn’t see why Amber was so stubborn, though I nodded at her when she vented about it. But now, it was very clear.

    I imagined myself in her shoes right now. Baby at home. Suspicious boyfriend downstairs. Seemingly- malevolent ex-boyfriend God-knows-where. She was probably scared shitless.

    I plopped myself next to her on the bed, her cold cheek brushing my bare arm as I leaned against the earthy brown-painted wall. The silence was unwavering. I could barely feel her chest move up and down as she continued to stare forward.

    I swear she hadn’t blinked in the past five minutes.

    Just to do something, I pulled my silver platform stilettos off of my sore feet. Gorgeous, wretched things, I thought as I tossed them to the ground.

    My gaze shifted to Amber again. My hand found hers. It was absolutely ice cold. I might as well have been holding a frozen piece of meat. I squeezed it tight, trying to warm her, but got no response back. Just her two large, owl-like eyes looking towards the door and the almost non-existent pulse at her wrist.

    If she wanted to say something, she would say it. That’s usually how things worked with her. And I knew.

    But not tonight. She was completely numb. Aware of everything happening around her, yes. But too shocked to make her mouth form any words.

    I chose my words carefully, making sure not to say his name, or be too blunt. But I wanted to speak the truth. Calm her. Bring her back from wherever her thoughts were.

    “Amber, he’s only one person. And some people in our lives aren’t meant to stay.”

    No response. It wasn’t like I’d expected one.
    I continued, “What do you think he’s going to do? Take Charlie? He can’t. Need I remind you that he is legally your parents’ son now? They signed the adoption papers. So did you. So did he.”

    Silence. Not one blink.

    “You think he’s going to try to break you and Blaine up? You think he’ll blackmail you? Tell Blaine the truth so he’ll leave you? No. He isn’t slimy enough to stoop that low. He wouldn’t dare.”

    No response. No change.

    “Amber. Maybe he just wants to talk. Though this is a seriously fucked up way of doing it.”


    I was beginning to run out of things to say. And then I grew silent, contemplating what to say next. Maybe she hadn’t even heard my words. Then from the corner of my eye, I say her cherry lips part.

    “No.” came a crackly but defiant whisper.

    I wanted to throw my arms up and say, ‘Then what?!’, but one, it wouldn’t help anything, and two, I was shocked that she’d actually spoken. She’d been listening. So I turned my head towards her, studying he pale profile. Her straight tiny nose, arched eyebrows, the beauty mark right above the corner of the left side of her mouth. I was about to ask another question when I heard her voice again.

    “No.” she repeated huskily, “He still loves me.”

    That stunned me. Out of all of the things she could have said. She chose that.

    Amber never talked about Louis to me. Only when she had been dating him in Paris. Over the phone. She was always good with painting pictures with her words. She had been smitten then, and though I would never say it, especially because her and Blaine were back together – and mostly because she didn’t need my words confirming what she already knew in her heart, no matter how much she denied it – she’d fallen hard. My eyes widened as I saw a crystal-like tear sneak out of the corner of her eye. She blinked once, her fan of dark eyelashes causing the droplet to slide down her cheek.

    And I knew what was coming next.

    “And I still love him.”

    It was like her words sliced through the air as she turned to look at me. Her amethyst eyes said it all. The room seemed to become even quieter, and truth radiated around us. There was no denying it.

    My best friend was in love with two guys.

    One, she’d loved since grade school.

    The other, she had a baby with.

    And again, Amber didn’t need me to tell her that she was in far too deep.

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    Re: The Consequences of Love

    Post by Sponsored content

      Current date/time is Sat Jan 19, 2019 12:50 pm