a/n: this is my official return to this fandom, i've decided. i mean, i doubt anyone will remember me from before (hell, i don't even remember my pen name from the time), but yes - this little baby is my return. i just started it and don't know where on earth it's headed - but if i don't finish any other story i put up on this website, i'm going to finish this. i've always wanted to write a tassie and now that i've been struck with (what i hope is) a fairly decent idea for one, i'm going to give it my all.
yes, so the chapter's are going to be pretty short. and probably slow. hope you don't mind. now, before this note becomes longer than the chapter i'm going to end it with a disclaimer:
i only wish i owned those briarwood boys.
Four of her fingers are wrapped around the cold metal heart of a locket, and her thumb tries to tangle itself in the chain. Her eyes have a glazed look to them and it's obvious she isn't fully there – as in, down on earth with everyone else. But Todd has been studying her for some time and it makes sense to him; it makes sense that she's far from everyone else – that she's so unreachable (so very, painfully unreachable).
After all, she's Massie Block and she's beautiful – no, more than that. Her lips look so soft and so pink, a color he normally detests but loves – adores – on her. Her eyes are framed with thick lashes (that she's always batting and it'll be the death of him if she doesn't stopstopstop) and they aren't the boring sort of brown like his; they don't remind people of mud pies or dirt – they're too piercing and brilliant. The seasons love her hair because it always looks bouncy and full of life, no matter what. It doesn't frizz up or anything similar and when the other girls express their jealousy, she always answers with a modest shrug.
But despite how elegant she may sound, she's also a wild child. The scent of cigarette smoke taints her clothes or maybe her skin because it's always there, mixed in with the lavender smell of her perfume. She frequents the senior parties, which have been dubbed "whorefests" by most of the student body (also known as those who never get invited) because all they do is drink and smoke until they're to the stars and beyond, and then they fuck like rabbits – well, so he's heard. Todd hates to think of her in a setting like that.
He thinks that she's as close to perfection as a person can be, yet so very far. He wants so badly to be there for her – to steer her in the right direction. But how can he? He may know what he thinks is everything about her, but she knows nothing about him. She probably doesn't even know that he's alive – that he's approximately five feet away from her, his eyes focused on nothing but her hand and the locket that it's semi-concealing.