Ok, so I should probably make it known now that I have not in fact seen the season premiere. Yeah, I had to work all weekend, and plus I kinda can't stand Eman, so I wasn't too worked up over it. No offense to those who do crave that relationship, because to each his own and all that. But some time ago I read this spoiler about how when Craig comes back he is rather embracing the whole rock and roll lifestyle, and Ellie decides to take it upon herself to look after him.
Or something like that.
But yeah, I read that and just kinda ran with it, though I was planning on abstaining from writing to focus on school...ehh, oh well.
Not mine and enjoy!
"All right, almost there."
Her voice is grudgingly tolerant, and not unlike that of the exhausted mother of a toddler, cleaning up yet again after her child's unsuccessful attempt at potty training. Because truly, that was how he had been behaving since his return, like a self-centered, immature, spoiled rotten little two year old.
Of course, she couldn't recall of any two year olds who got themselves so inebriated that they couldn't see straight, but that was besides the point. Here he was, a young man allegedly so mature that he didn't even feel the need to finish high school, and she was for the most part having to carry him through his own door.
The process of which was anything but easy. True toddlers were much more portable.
With his toned arm slung haphazardly across her frail shoulders, and both of her thin arms wrapped tightly around his lean middle, it was a graceless, gradual path they traced from the backseat of her car to the entrance of Joey's garage, stopping once so that the boy could vomit soundly onto the pavement at their feet. He swiped aimlessly at his mouth with his palm, and she took hold of his wrists and made him to wipe his hands off in the grass before accepting the same hand unflinchingly and pulling him to his feet.
Of all things, Ellie Nash was not squeamish.
Okay, so maybe she blushed just a smidge when she had to reach inside his front pocket and dig around to find his keys, especially when he let out that throaty "mmm" and leaned his frame even more heavily upon hers, brushing his nose roughly against her ear in the dark. Still, she did manage to locate the key, unlock the door, and drag his slumped body over to the same old ratty couch that he and Manny had made a baby on so many years ago. But she tried not to think about that part.
She lifted his arm off of her shoulders and released her grip on his waist, not really caring about being gentle as she shoved him down in the direction of the threadbare cushions, where with any measure of hope he would realize what was good for him and pass the hell out. It did come as a surprise though, when he didn't release his grip on her, and she found herself being carried down along with his momentum and landing with her body draped partially over his. Partially, because the force of his fall wasn't quite strong enough to swing her legs up as well, so now they were just kind of splayed out behind her on across the floor. She might have blushed again at her new position, had it not caught her so off guard.
And she might have also blushed when he tightened his hold on her and pressed his forehead up against her cheek, muttering, "I love you Elle, you know that don't you?" in a hot breath against her neck. She might have blushed, had the statement not angered her to the point of violence.
Livid, she planted her small hands against the strength of his chest and pushed herself off of him, sitting back hard on her heels. Her eyes sparked when she opened her mouth, and when she spoke her tone was so cold it surprised even her a little.
"Don't."
A little stunned from the sudden loss of warmth from atop him, Craig Manning attempted to prop himself up on one elbow to look the redhead in front of him in the eye. However, when that proved a bit too difficult for his intoxicated condition, he conceded to remaining flat on his back and gazing up at her. He rather liked the view.
"Huh?"
"Don't Craig. Don't get all drunk and horny and drop those empty expressions of affection on me. This is Ellie, not one of your Vancouver groupies, and I don't fall for that kind of bullshit."
"Bullshit? I love you Ell(lllllliiiiiii)e, I do. That's not bullshit. Don't you love me?"
After his slurring he stared unblinkingly at her, and though she tied to scoff and roll her eyes at his question he didn't avert his gaze or drop its intensity. Suddenly freezing from sitting on the cement of the garage floor, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned her head to face the wall disdainfully as she spoke.
"Oh yeah, I love you all right Craig. I love you like I love Marco, or like I love Jimmy. After all, that's how you love me, isn't it?"
He paused before he spoke, and in those moments of silence Ellie heard her heart break for the hundredth time. She knew what was coming, knew the inevitable, "well yeah" that was bound to burst forth from his lips without any knowledge of how much the simplicity of the statement would hurt her. She bit her lip until she tasted blood and cursed herself for ever bringing up the subject. This wasn't high school anymore, and she wasn't poor little Ellie, that pathetic, gothic, love struck cutter. Things were different now, she had college, she had a future, she had Jesse...so why did she still want Craig?
And then she heard the old couch give a groan of protest and out of the corner of her eye caught a shadow moving down from on top of it. The shadow then moved closer to her, and soon she found Craig kneeling down on the ground in front of her. Craig, with his hair in complete disarray (even more so than usual), his clothes stained profusely with unidentifiable substances, and his whole body reeking of alcohol, cigarettes and vomit. Craig with circles under his eyes and pieces of grass underneath his fingernails. Craig, with his mouth slightly open and his face softer than she had ever seen it before, with his eyes so full of genuineness that it make her want to smooth them closed with her fingertips and kiss the lids softly. Craig, looking to her as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever.
Everything about him was heartbreaking.
Like it was heartbreaking how he was now dragging a callused, tobacco scented finger down along her jaw line softly while staring into her eyes like he had never noticed them before. Then he replacing the finger with his thumb, and then both thumbs, because he was wiping away tears she hadn't even realized she was crying from her cheeks. It was heartbreaking how close his beer-breath was getting to her face.
"You're shivering." He whispered, gently pulling her shaking body in closely to his own before again resuming his caress of her face.
"Don't." she said again, though much less convincing this time, "Don't, you're drunk, don't..."
"No." he told her, and for a moment she was confused. "No, not like Jimmy. Not like Marco."
And she opened her mouth to contradict him, but the words wouldn't form and her brain wouldn't work and all she managed to emit was a strangled sigh from the back of her throat. He continued.
"Not like Ashley. Not like Manny."
There was nothing left of her heart now, just a nearly-empty sac of fragments and shards hanging there heavily in her thoracic cavity. In the morning she would drive up to Banting and throw herself in Marco's arms, sobbing violently at her own stupidity before ending up naked over at Jesse's apartment for a late night fuck in order to assure herself that soemone in the world wanted her. For now though, sitting there in Craig's embrace, with his hands on her face and his mouth so close to hers, she tried not to think about that. Because he might not love her, but at least he was here tonight, and he was still talking to her.
"Not like them. More."
Hearts, Ellie decided, where astoundingly regenerative.
Whatcha think? I think I put too much effort into writing this instead of my research paper, so it would be lovely to have reviews that make up for it!