summary: slight AU; for coppertone wars' twelve days of christmas challenge, level five, part four!
notes — this is more of a character study drabble than an actual story bc i feel as though i'm going to do character studies for the level five challenge; hope you guys like this, c:
highway of fallen kings
ariacentric, slight ariajason
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She tries to remember what life was like before everything had gotten completely ruined.
A was just another letter, red was just another color that symbolized communism and death, and deaths were something that she watched on the news - her family had been whole, once upon a time, underneath several layers of pretense and secrets, yet they were together, once upon a time; what felt like eons ago, Aria had fingered the pink streak beneath her hair, and risen at early hours during the one-year stay at Iceland, standing outside of the frigid home, and smelt the ambiance of an atmosphere that hadn't yet been destroyed by the destructive forces of man.
There were halcyon days where she drifted throughout the woods, cloaked by thick bundled layers of wool and messy fabrics, native foods dribbling down her chin, nestled in between piles of secondhand books that smelt like cinnamon and something akin to home, in inglenooks, a book in one hand, close enough to absorb the warmth of the stove; above her, the neon lights flickered constantly on and off, and the languor caused by leisure time was sure to constantly be filled by gazes to the offings, at the Montgomery's new home.
We're, uh, going back home, her father mentions, one day. Back to Roseville - I got a new job back at the firm, so it only makes sense; after all, it's higher paying too, and we'll be leaving in a week. Your mother supports the decision, so neither of you can get your way out of this; I'm sorry the stay at Iceland had to be so short, but I'm sure that you'll be happy, you know, going back home! Where you grew up, and all . . . he trails off uncomfortably, meeting the unfortunate glares of Aria and Mike, who look anything but overjoyed about the sudden news.
Mike mutters something about needing to say goodbye to his friends, and leaves out the back door, ignoring his mother, who comes out of the kitchen with a warning to keep warm; Aria sighs, knowing that she'll always have to be the responsible one on in the situation. That sounds like a great idea, dad, she murmurs appreciatively, cloaking her face in between woolen blankets upon the creaking floors. It'll be nice to see all of my old friends.
In the midst of the last night the Montgomery can hide from their problems (because Aria's not the only one with a past in Rosewood that she'd like to move on from, and forget about), Aria sits outside upon the freshly paved driveway, snowflakes coating her fingers - the moonlight reflects upon the smaller house, and she sips a glass of coffee, her ice blue eyes regarding the tranquil peace, that's obviously nothing more than a disguise - going back there would just mean having to remember Alison and the incident with Meredith and something inside of her told her that it wouldn't be too long before these secrets couldn't be bottled up for longer - they would explode.
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She stands back at the airport, a whiff of Rosewood air filling her lungs, people bustling around the town as though they don't have a care in the world, and Aria puts on the same indestructible pretense, and straightens her cold black hair; hours later, she stands in a row with three individuals who aren't exactly her best friends anymore (they've only been bonded by the death of their leader), their hollowed collarbones and bags that can't be disguised by powders beneath haunted eyes, and then suddenly, the past catches up with the future.
Aria remembers the feelings inside the pit of her stomach, seeing her father with Meredith, the blond student who just couldn't understand that the Montgomery family already had enough issues to deal with, without her coming into the picture; fingers twitch uncomfortably, and it's almost as though she's back there, at the night where she had torn apart papers, red lipstick imprints upon the walls, on glassy photographs, watching the scene unfold through glazed over eyes, and then a burst of cold air between her breakable lungs, because this isn't who she was supposed to be. But, as usual, she had run from her problems, as though that would make them go away - but they never do, not in a small town like Roseville, Virginia, where secrets don't stay secrets for long; she stares blankly at the text messages from A and thinks that they're all doomed.
There's the fragrance of lavender from her father's coat one day; she stands outside the house, and thinks that all good things must come to an end. Stars are scattered loosely across the sky, a warm breeze blowing in the air, scattering across secrets into hidden pockets of space, into the ears of anybody who bothers to listen closely enough. All good things must come to an end, she murmurs to herself - it's a true, undeniable fact. Aria just wonders how long it will take for the Montgomery family to crash and burn (because it'll be soon enough).
She sits on Spencer's floor one day, fingering the blonde hair of a doll, lacy pink dress with a bright pink streak on one end, as though no matter how much she tried to change herself, A would always be there to remind her of the past, her own past self; Aria stares outside of the window, something akin to hate and confusion flickering inside of her eyes, and thinks that there's a storm coming. A flash of lightning in the distance, and the electricity goes out; there's a message in neon lights engraved upon the wall, and she finds herself huddling with Emily, Spencer, and Hanna, and reads the words in a shaky voice. You're in the dark, now, looking for me in all the wrong places - A, and it seems as though crash-and-burn won't be too far away from now.
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The Montgomery family splits down on half on a Tuesday afternoon.
A warm breeze blows through the September air, turning the otherwise frigid ambiance into one more humid; leaves are already changing their colors and the light blue sky threatens to rain down quickly. Most of the other children are playing in the jungle gyms, sharing sips of fifth grade graduation's day lemonade and inhaling the refreshing scent of freedom; Aria walks by the basketball courts quickly, ignoring familiar faces, and fingers the doorbell - it doesn't pass by her the way that the doorknob had been mishandled, and the way that scratch marks lined the wooden door. She's sure that the neighbors didn't miss this easier - maybe she could just ask them what happened; at least they would give her the truth, no matter how bitter it might end up being.
It's a war zone that Aria walks into - objects are strewn around the house, and she walks cautiously in to find her mother and father sitting on opposite ends on the table, Mike nowhere to be seen, and a lawyer sitting on a chair between. It's just like how she had imagined it, in her worst nightmares - omniscient cerulean eyes of her own bore into swirling hazels of her father, and she closes her eyes, trying to picture a scene more idyllic (she can't break down, not now, out of all times, not when A had re-entered the scene, and maybe A had split her family up, down the middle again), short stubs of grass weaving throughout the mahogany flooring, few words spoken though shallow whites confirm.
We're getting a divorce, Aria, her mother states coolly. One of your friends set a letter through the mail - she labeled herself anonymously, of course - and notified me of your father's recent fling with one of his student's. Aria's father doesn't do anything to negate the statement and sits uncomfortably across from the table; she leaves almost immediately, out the front door, and finds herself at the door of the Hastings' house; it's all that she's got left, now.
(She's supposed to be angry at Hanna, and in this sort of situation, Hanna would only remark about how the same thing had happened to her, and how Aria's parents would eventually split, but everything would be okay, after a while; Emily already had enough problems on her hands to be burdened by some petty family problems).
Hello, she calls into the empty house - even years before A, Aria had always been slightly frightened by the Hastings' mansion and a little confused about how perfect their family seemed to be. Spencer, are you in there? There's a flash of blonde hair from the staircase, and Aria instinctively thinks it to be Alison - there's only one person that she knows who has those flirty smiles and high-pitched peals of laughter, even if the two of them never had that strong of a connection - and then recognizes it to be Jason. Uh, what are you doing here? She questions, arms crossed.
I live here, Jason says, smiling a bit - she hasn't seen him smile, not for a while, at least; then again, Aria hasn't seen Alison's older brother since Alison was around to complain about him. Apparently, I'm Spencer's step-brother now, so Peter decided that I should get used to living with the family; my mom left Roseville a few weeks ago. He's always been open, Aria thinks, unlike herself. What are you doing here?
Oh, I just needed to pick up a few textbooks for a study session, Aria blatantly lies, not willing to admit the truth. Mike's having some problems with his studies, so I thought that I would help him with history. The smell of cranberries and moldy pieces of bread coats the room, a bowl of assorted fruit on the counter, perfectly centered; Aria quickly walks past Jason, up the butterfly staircase, and into Spencer's empty room. She reaches for a book; it is not a diary, with its creaking binding of several additions of tape applied onto the previously smooth silk, and spins around at the grasp on her shoulder.
Hey, are you sure you're okay? Mike's been a bit, uh, busy lately today, so I was wondering if it was something to do with the divorce, his words fall out smoothly, burning her like acid rain, so much as she doesn't stop to think of his words; nonetheless, she knows of Mr. Hastings' profession as a lawyer, and wonders how long it will take for the entirety of Roseville to get the news that the Montgomery family isn't as perfect as they seem to be.
Aria immediately draws back from his touch - remember Ezra, sweet, sweet Ezra who you're completely in love with - and fumbles with a few textbooks from Spencer's shelves. Uh, I gotta go - I have to study for this really hard history test, she grabs a trigonometry book, then sets it down, looking for something akin to a blank cover with small sheets nestled in between them, tomorrow, so I'll see you around —
Tomorrow's Sunday, Jason remarks, moving around the queen-sized mattress with ease. Aria flinches, and tries moving in the opposite direction, and then realizes the mistake of her words.
Yeah, um, I meant Monday - it's just that I haven't studied for a while for this, and I thought that Spencer was going to help me, since we're both supposed to meet at the library for a study session with the school tutor, uh, Mr. Banks. It sounds like a plausible enough excuse, Aria thinks, for the meantime, anything to escape the situation which quickly is becoming uncomfortable.
Mr. Banks is the biology teacher, Jason corrects her statement yet again, and Aria wonders why she's so frazzled in the first place. His hand quickly grasps hers, as if to reassure her, but it does nothing to calm her frazzled nerves; they are clenching hands, and their sweaty palms are not the only things entangled within the steady heartbeats slipping away from each other, because something perfect like this was just waiting to turn into a dramatic episode of destruction and disaster.
She quickly picks up the biology book from the bookcase, smiling broadly. He does; thanks for reminding me! It's just that I have a lot of tests to study for on Monday, and I don't have that much time, so I think that I'm just going to leave now, and Spencer will probably catch up with me at the library, so, it was nice seeing you Jason —
Uh, doesn't Spencer have tennis lessons for another hour or so? And then, after that, she's going out with the Cavanaugh kid?
Aria wishes that she could fall into the floor at this very moment. Yeah, uh, I meant that after she finished all of her other routines, she would; um, I meant Emily, Emily's going to study with me, since she doesn't have the best grade in English, I mean biology, now, so uh, I gotta go, okay? She doesn't let Jason get another word in, and slides into her car in relief, turning the keys into ignition, and speeding off, wondering when her life had gotten so complicated.
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notes | ariacentric drabble — for coppertone wars' twelve days of christmas challenge, level five, part four! (aria's part), c: please leave a review?