A/N my first one from Magenta's POV. Just a little thing about how much
Riff had changed since they left Transexual.
The bottle of iodine stood unused on my nightstand. Unused for now at least. When he came back to the small room we shared, I knew that he'd have even more wounds to clean. And I was right. After what had seemed like an enterity of waiting, he staggered in, a look of pain across his face. I gently pulled his jacket, then his shirt off of his shoulders, revealing another set of criss-crossing lines of blood. I massaged his shoulders for a few minutes, trying to work the tension that was almost imbedded in his mussels out. But it was a vain effort. After all, tomorrow he'd come back to our room, more wounds, and even more stressed out. He moved over to the bed, and layed down on his stomach, allowing me to tend to his wounds.
As the first bit of iodine hit his sore back, he gasped and flinched in pain, before trying to calm himself down. As I treated his wounds as gently as I possibly could, it hurt me as well to see him in so much pain. I finished with the last cut, and removed the small strips of gauze from what had been last night's fresh wounds. I turned them over, so that the unused side was facing down, and put them over his cuts. It was a sad, gruesome sight to look at his back, it was almost completely scars, all from Frank's whip and chain. And I knew that my brother hated the scars on his back almost as much as he hated Frank.
Riff had always been extremely vain. Every one knew that. When he started to lose his hair, he'd been angry for weeks. Even now, he seemed to be growing it to longer, to cover for the hair that kept disappearing on the top. Before we left for earth, Riff had been extremely handsome, no one could deny that. He was our equivalent of the "California dream boy" that you saw pictures of everywhere.
I can remember tagging along with him to the gym one day, and looking at all the guys, not nearly as fit as Riff. His strength came in handy for him now, too. Frank always assigned him the most tedious of tasks, and mostly, one that you needed strong mussels for, something that Frank didn't have. But in recent years, what had once been all muscle was now almost all weak. A combination of overwork, and hardly ever making it too meals, was to blame.
The Riff I remember hated to wear a shirt, he loved showing off the body that he'd put so much work into. Now the farthest he would go shirtless was across the bedroom, not wanting anyone to see his scarred back. I remembered Riff saying something about Frank's new experiment, trying to build the perfect man. And from the description Riff gave me, reminded me so much of days past, when I felt supreme just to be next to my brother, getting jealous stares from every other girl in the room. Everyone wanted to be able to get the same attention from Riff that I got, but no one else did.
I finished taping the last piece of gauze over his wounds, and he rolled over onto his side, drawing back the sheet for me. I put the bottle of iodine back on my nightstand, and climbed in next to him. He held me close and whispered to me that everything was going to be alright, that he'd protect me. And I knew he would. Because this was the Riff I Remembered.
A/N again..Thanx for reading this, as yall usually do, please review...
The bottle of iodine stood unused on my nightstand. Unused for now at least. When he came back to the small room we shared, I knew that he'd have even more wounds to clean. And I was right. After what had seemed like an enterity of waiting, he staggered in, a look of pain across his face. I gently pulled his jacket, then his shirt off of his shoulders, revealing another set of criss-crossing lines of blood. I massaged his shoulders for a few minutes, trying to work the tension that was almost imbedded in his mussels out. But it was a vain effort. After all, tomorrow he'd come back to our room, more wounds, and even more stressed out. He moved over to the bed, and layed down on his stomach, allowing me to tend to his wounds.
As the first bit of iodine hit his sore back, he gasped and flinched in pain, before trying to calm himself down. As I treated his wounds as gently as I possibly could, it hurt me as well to see him in so much pain. I finished with the last cut, and removed the small strips of gauze from what had been last night's fresh wounds. I turned them over, so that the unused side was facing down, and put them over his cuts. It was a sad, gruesome sight to look at his back, it was almost completely scars, all from Frank's whip and chain. And I knew that my brother hated the scars on his back almost as much as he hated Frank.
Riff had always been extremely vain. Every one knew that. When he started to lose his hair, he'd been angry for weeks. Even now, he seemed to be growing it to longer, to cover for the hair that kept disappearing on the top. Before we left for earth, Riff had been extremely handsome, no one could deny that. He was our equivalent of the "California dream boy" that you saw pictures of everywhere.
I can remember tagging along with him to the gym one day, and looking at all the guys, not nearly as fit as Riff. His strength came in handy for him now, too. Frank always assigned him the most tedious of tasks, and mostly, one that you needed strong mussels for, something that Frank didn't have. But in recent years, what had once been all muscle was now almost all weak. A combination of overwork, and hardly ever making it too meals, was to blame.
The Riff I remember hated to wear a shirt, he loved showing off the body that he'd put so much work into. Now the farthest he would go shirtless was across the bedroom, not wanting anyone to see his scarred back. I remembered Riff saying something about Frank's new experiment, trying to build the perfect man. And from the description Riff gave me, reminded me so much of days past, when I felt supreme just to be next to my brother, getting jealous stares from every other girl in the room. Everyone wanted to be able to get the same attention from Riff that I got, but no one else did.
I finished taping the last piece of gauze over his wounds, and he rolled over onto his side, drawing back the sheet for me. I put the bottle of iodine back on my nightstand, and climbed in next to him. He held me close and whispered to me that everything was going to be alright, that he'd protect me. And I knew he would. Because this was the Riff I Remembered.
A/N again..Thanx for reading this, as yall usually do, please review...