Title: Sparking Dark 1/1
Disclaimer: I don't own The Tribe. Damn.
Rating: Barely PG
Summary: Trudy's having revelations. Trex
Author's Notes: Possibly, it's not very legible. It hasn't been beta'd, it's just something that spilled onto the keyboard one night.
**
She's never sure why she wanted the good boys. Maybe it was their aura, the purity they provided naturally. It was something she didn't possess and always craved.
Trudy wasn't good.
It'd always been that way, she never doubted it, she never had it pressed upon her, she just knew.
They used to talk about her, unflattering gossip about the things she did - the people she did. She only had one mark on her belt, but if she'd let him, she must have let everyone. If she did, it would be her own business - she said as much and was branded it a bigger harlot than when she began. She didn't care.
Even Zoot had been a good boy then.
For that kind of man, a good one, she was just as righteous as he was. It wasn't sincere, and that was another point against her, but it was necessary. She thought once, a while ago, that if the nice one loved her she would be vindicated, washed of her impure self. Until Jay took her onto him, and gladly loved her, however superficial and fairytale-emursed in his mind.
But for all his sweet nature and selfless acts, he wasn't enough, even with his do-gooder heart and warm smiles. Their relationship didn't make her clean for very long; she was never that way, after all. You can't wash dirt; it just becomes mud, murky and deeper for the effort. Nothing would change that outcome.
She didn't even feel bad when she spurned him after a while. She twisted his feelings away and pushed him off with a halting hand and disinterested glare. It disturbed her, doing that after so many years of yearning for the pureness, the sweetness to be settled within her. But it wasn't meant to be.
She found out why . . . later.
It was because Jay wasn't . . . her.
*He* was. He was dark even if he lived in light.
It was two nights after she lifted an eyebrow when Jay asked if she cared about their relationship, two nights after he spun on his heartbroken body and left with a dimmed face and glassy eyes. It was two nights until she really was washed. But what she found then wasn't purity that made her clean and redeemed. It was the supremacy of finding her partner. He was, truly, just as debauched and distant, needy and pushy.
Opposites attract, and sometimes, when they're compatible enough, it's the ones who are similar that seek each other out.
So then, when he played his ruse of concern for her feelings, she played along and let him fall into her bed, and he'd been falling ever since. It was seedy and unclean and just right for them. A pleasure that repeatedly struck in the metaphorical dark, and it was as encompassing as she'd dreamed the feeling of good would be.
He was not a good boy, greedy and needy was the earmark he carried. Their relationship was never based on honeyed promises and honorable intentions, in fact, it was peppered with borderline-rough encounters that left bruises, scratches, and needs fulfilled.
Lex likes it that way, and so does she.
For sins past and present, they are the black sheep, and so they act it. Even if no one knows but them. Except it isn't enough anymore. Maybe it never was.
Trudy is sure it's the craving in her. It's back, and changed in a way that surprised her, and didn't faze her at all. The white light is what she used to wish for, some enchantment she wanted to be enveloped in it until it seeped into her body, that want has turned into a distant need. And even when it existed, she knew it could never reach deep enough to make her murky, maroon soul clean. In its place is something more desperate, even if she doesn't feel the desperation. It's something aching and reacting and something more truthful to her nature than anything she could think of.
Him.
Nails regularly bite her palms now when he fancies other women, her face flushes with anger when his teasing tongue and sly looks are not for her benefit. It was something she was accustomed to, not like this though. Her past had held such things - other women's boyfriends, things she *couldn't* have, things she wanted.
She *had* Lex.
But not enough of him, her tangled sheets and gasping moans didn't sate her for long. It used to be enough, before him it was plenty. So why now? That was the preferable ponder that dominated her. The answer refused to reveal itself, making her shift and snap at people before covering her face with a sweet smile. She used to get jealous because she lusted for the good, a sin in itself. Now she had wrapped herself plainly in her darkness and took his as well, acceptance gave her nothing to reach for more.
Except one thing she never considered before. Not really.
Words he spoke were spiced in their sweetness, and she owned those words when they tumbled from evilly curled lips and onto her skin, she refused to let him allow another to surrender under that rusty draw.
He was what she wanted. And she would get him.
The need had seeped into her murky soul, curling inside and sparking something she only *thought* she'd felt before.
Love.
He deserved to feel it too.
The End.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Tribe. Damn.
Rating: Barely PG
Summary: Trudy's having revelations. Trex
Author's Notes: Possibly, it's not very legible. It hasn't been beta'd, it's just something that spilled onto the keyboard one night.
**
She's never sure why she wanted the good boys. Maybe it was their aura, the purity they provided naturally. It was something she didn't possess and always craved.
Trudy wasn't good.
It'd always been that way, she never doubted it, she never had it pressed upon her, she just knew.
They used to talk about her, unflattering gossip about the things she did - the people she did. She only had one mark on her belt, but if she'd let him, she must have let everyone. If she did, it would be her own business - she said as much and was branded it a bigger harlot than when she began. She didn't care.
Even Zoot had been a good boy then.
For that kind of man, a good one, she was just as righteous as he was. It wasn't sincere, and that was another point against her, but it was necessary. She thought once, a while ago, that if the nice one loved her she would be vindicated, washed of her impure self. Until Jay took her onto him, and gladly loved her, however superficial and fairytale-emursed in his mind.
But for all his sweet nature and selfless acts, he wasn't enough, even with his do-gooder heart and warm smiles. Their relationship didn't make her clean for very long; she was never that way, after all. You can't wash dirt; it just becomes mud, murky and deeper for the effort. Nothing would change that outcome.
She didn't even feel bad when she spurned him after a while. She twisted his feelings away and pushed him off with a halting hand and disinterested glare. It disturbed her, doing that after so many years of yearning for the pureness, the sweetness to be settled within her. But it wasn't meant to be.
She found out why . . . later.
It was because Jay wasn't . . . her.
*He* was. He was dark even if he lived in light.
It was two nights after she lifted an eyebrow when Jay asked if she cared about their relationship, two nights after he spun on his heartbroken body and left with a dimmed face and glassy eyes. It was two nights until she really was washed. But what she found then wasn't purity that made her clean and redeemed. It was the supremacy of finding her partner. He was, truly, just as debauched and distant, needy and pushy.
Opposites attract, and sometimes, when they're compatible enough, it's the ones who are similar that seek each other out.
So then, when he played his ruse of concern for her feelings, she played along and let him fall into her bed, and he'd been falling ever since. It was seedy and unclean and just right for them. A pleasure that repeatedly struck in the metaphorical dark, and it was as encompassing as she'd dreamed the feeling of good would be.
He was not a good boy, greedy and needy was the earmark he carried. Their relationship was never based on honeyed promises and honorable intentions, in fact, it was peppered with borderline-rough encounters that left bruises, scratches, and needs fulfilled.
Lex likes it that way, and so does she.
For sins past and present, they are the black sheep, and so they act it. Even if no one knows but them. Except it isn't enough anymore. Maybe it never was.
Trudy is sure it's the craving in her. It's back, and changed in a way that surprised her, and didn't faze her at all. The white light is what she used to wish for, some enchantment she wanted to be enveloped in it until it seeped into her body, that want has turned into a distant need. And even when it existed, she knew it could never reach deep enough to make her murky, maroon soul clean. In its place is something more desperate, even if she doesn't feel the desperation. It's something aching and reacting and something more truthful to her nature than anything she could think of.
Him.
Nails regularly bite her palms now when he fancies other women, her face flushes with anger when his teasing tongue and sly looks are not for her benefit. It was something she was accustomed to, not like this though. Her past had held such things - other women's boyfriends, things she *couldn't* have, things she wanted.
She *had* Lex.
But not enough of him, her tangled sheets and gasping moans didn't sate her for long. It used to be enough, before him it was plenty. So why now? That was the preferable ponder that dominated her. The answer refused to reveal itself, making her shift and snap at people before covering her face with a sweet smile. She used to get jealous because she lusted for the good, a sin in itself. Now she had wrapped herself plainly in her darkness and took his as well, acceptance gave her nothing to reach for more.
Except one thing she never considered before. Not really.
Words he spoke were spiced in their sweetness, and she owned those words when they tumbled from evilly curled lips and onto her skin, she refused to let him allow another to surrender under that rusty draw.
He was what she wanted. And she would get him.
The need had seeped into her murky soul, curling inside and sparking something she only *thought* she'd felt before.
Love.
He deserved to feel it too.
The End.