Right, so i kinda just wrote this, and then i figured, hey, this guys reacts like, exactly like Cross would (or how i imagine him to have) in the same situation, so i tweaked and figured yeah. The girls could probably be replaced with someone from the series, but whatevs, i think i'm supposed to say I dont own DGM or Birds of Tokyo, though they are pretty bloody awesome, anyways here goes my first ever fic!
Rain slithered over the unfamiliar eves, curtaining the uncharacteristically inviting doorway. Beads of water gathered on my shoulders before soaking into my long dark coat. I didn't know how long I had been standing out there, shielding my bag from the rain. My hair was sleeked wet to a deeper brown than it was; the red and purple running through it dimming to near black scars of my profession. Regardless, I was beginning to look like a stalker; a black silhouette outside an explosion of Christmas lights and suburban normality. It didn't feel right, nothing about this place felt like him. I steeled myself. This was going to hurt like a bitch, but it had become unavoidable, despite my constant mental extensions. I stared at the door again. The gutters above really needed to be cleaned out, clumps of leaves residing there dumping the rain directly in front of the door. And on me. I allowed myself a moment to squeeze my eyes shut and cast my mind away. I waded past the first step, my soaked jeans catching on the small shrub that guarded the walkway. I glared past the smiling wreath on the door and knocked. The door swung open in what seemed like slow motion after a few excruciatingly long seconds to reveal Marian Cross. My professor. The man who hated me. I froze. He a white button up shirt, which wasn't fully buttoned... his deep red hair had been hacked up somewhat unnaturally, leaving me with a pang of loss for his old long hair. His bare heels tripped over the ragged edge of some well-loved black slacks. The warped sight left my heart aching and my mind hopelessly trying to concoct a substantial thought. An age seemed to pass as I simply stared at him, unable to move. A sound broke through my trance, "Marian?" I blinked. I expected this. Cross was always a notorious womanizer. He finally moved, turned to a short blonde woman, who I judged to be in her late 20's. I plastered a small smile on my face. "Who's this?" she prodded, slipping under his arm.
"Hi, I'm Kate, uh, one of Professor Cross' old students" I stammered. My voice was uncharacteristically weak. The lady eyed me warily before her expression turned almost desperately bright.
"I'm Sam, nice to meet you" her voice was sickly sweet and her smile too strained. I shook her hand; feeling the unmistakable tang of a wedding ring on her finger. "Would you like to come in? We were just watching the tele"
"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude, you must just be having dinner. I just came around to say... hello" he was still staring at me and I felt memories of our class flicker through my mind, having to force myself not to glance at his left hand. I caught myself from shivering under his gaze as Sam explained, in great detail, as to how much she would love to meet me properly and that it was no trouble. My face stretched automatically into a polite smile. "I- uh... a-are you sure? I can't stay for too long..."
"Of course! Come in, come in! You must be freezing!" Sam bustled in, seemingly happy to have something to do. Someone to fuss over. Marian stepped away from the door, returning to what I assumed was the lounge room, and an amazingly plush suede couch. I stepped over the threshold, pulling my shoes off and my dripping jacket to hang it on the hat rack near the door. I poked around in my bag; it hadn't been saved from the rain. I sighed, running my hand through my sopping hair and pulling out an unfortunate amount of dark red strands. Sam was chatting to me from the kitchen, mindless phrases that needed no answer. I glanced around the entryway. A cool marble floor contrasted with the blindingly coloured walls. Opposite the door an orange wall screamed out for attention amongst its Stepford sisters. I wandered into the kitchen, still mumbling affirmative noises amongst her chatter. I reached the kitchen, observing the amazing richness of it. Sam turned and smiled at me, taking in my appearance. "If you wanted, the bathroom is down the hall, straight past the lounge room, there should be a few clean towels there" I smiled.
"Thanks, I'm completely soaked!" she pulled an unenthusiastic, but seemingly genuine laugh from her throat; as if she hadn't truly laughed for far too long. "That smells great by the way" I said before wandering toward the bathroom, yanking off my sopping socks before stepping into the deep carpet.
"What are you doing here" god, his voice still sounded like chocolate. I forced my muscles to keep moving, despite the fog that surrounded my mind.
"I'm wet." I mentally smacked myself in the face. I glanced around. He was sprawled over a cream couch with a glass of red wine and an ancient book in his hand. The oversized TV sat ruefully in the corner, gathering dust. His ring finger attempting to hide between the pages, only flashing the loyal band of gold when he shifted the pages. He raised his eyebrow in amusement. "I'll be back in a sec." I strode out of the room, silently cursing my ability to speak.
I leant heavily on the basin, my breaths coming out ragged. Married. He was married. I clenched my fists shut and forced down a sob.
...
The silence was killing me. My heart clenched treacherously, forcing me to my knees. I pulled in shaky breaths and tried to calm down. I refused to cry. Refused to break down in his bathroom. Refused to admit that I was the one to blame. I pulled the expensive towel through my hair, glancing down at what I was wearing. My "In case of emergency: break dance" shirt seemed far too commonplace for this house, as did my ragged tour-jeans. I picked idly at the blood stain that proudly coloured the thigh. This place was too unnatural, it was everything that he wasn't. I dragged the image of his old place to the back of my eyelids. It stood proudly behind the best Chinese food restaurant in the northern hemisphere, the best, of course, was in Melbourne, Home. I focused on the texture of the towel, staring at it until it numbed my mind, ignoring the endless chant at the back of my mind. 'He's not yours anymore. He's not yours anymore. He's not yours anymore' I focused on the blood stain, stabilizing myself, dashing away unbidden tears. I dragged in a breath and gripped onto my hair wincing at the pinch to my head. I glanced up again; my disheveled appearance in stark contrast with the bathroom. I dragged in another breath. My reflection acted on her own. I watched silently as she dried her hair, cleaned her face and re-applied the dripping eye-liner. You don't need all that gunk you idiot. Watched her straighten her clothes and force her appearance to a presentable level. You're always beautiful. Until she became me. Until this became real.
"You are a stranger to me now. If I see you again..." breathe. Ragged air ripped through a broken throat. "Make sure we never meet again"
I padded out of the bathroom, through the mini-hallway and into the lounge room. His small framed glasses rested on the middle of his nose as he gazed through his novel, only noticing me when I sat on the opposite couch and disturbing the curious amount of cushions. Creating a deafening ruckus in the silence. He creased the edge of the page down before tossing the book onto the glass coffee table separating us. "What do you want." Looking every bit the pissy teenager, he wrenched off his glasses and tossed them onto his book. I stared at my hands. I hadn't got this far in my head...
"I-I..." deep breaths "I wanted to explain myself." I felt his skeptical gaze on me.
"Explain yourself?" I braced myself. "Explain yourself! Kate you have no-" he growled in frustration and stalked over to the pristine white fireplace. He glared into the fake flames before whispering, almost inaudibly: "you have no right..." The cavern in my chest suddenly was larger and emptier than before.
"I know I can't fix what I did to you Cross, I just wanted you to know... why" the room was spinning awfully quickly. I felt his gaze on me and met it evenly. "You can hate me forever, regret what happened even... But can you at least hear my side?"
"You fucked around and wanted to be caught, what else do I need to know Miss Grant? Now you track me down after 3 fucking years and expect a fair hearing?" I flinched, he sounded exactly like a teacher. But not the one I had known.
"I never slept around Professor" I bit back, not trying to hold back the bitterness that seeped into my voice. "Although my acting skills are far better than I expected if I fooled even you" I cursed myself. I merely sounded sad. And hurt.
I wished more than anything at that moment to have sounded strong. He glanced at me, the full effect of my betrayal painted before me.
"You ruined me." His voice was expertly controlled. Deadly calm. He stared deep into my eyes. Reading every thought, every emotion and every experience they had witnessed. A deep horrible feeling resounded within me. Sending my mind back to when everything collapsed.
"Dinners ready! Marian! Kate!" an overly cheery jingled from the kitchen. I watched him stalk from the room, not glancing back. I hung my head. Conceding defeat. Before padding my way into what I assumed was the dining room.
Marian was watching her. Everything she did. I slipped quietly into a high-backed wooden chair, suddenly remembering my bag. I draped it over the back of the chair where it hung uncomfortably, clattering against the wood. I frowned and recovered one of the many CD's I was forced to lug around to support the band. I slipped it back in with its soggy brothers, repositioning it on the chair so it was silent.
"I hope you like meat loaf, I would have cooked something else had I known you were coming," Sam smiled.
"Don't worry; I haven't had a decent meal in weeks so anything that isn't fast or pretending to be lettuce will be amazing" I let out a cautious laugh.
"Where have you been then? Other than home?" she questioned, a sincerely puzzled look adorned her features.
"Uh, well, my band is touring around so there's not usually much time to get something other than fast food." she furrowed her brow.
"You're in a band?" she served a steaming slice of meat loaf onto my plate.
"Yeah, we're all mainly from Melbourne, but we're trying to get into the US scene so we're jumping from concert to concert to promote ourselves." They were both watching me. Sam looked almost cut, as though I had lied to her and I didn't dare glance at Marian.
"Well, that's, uh, great! Getting somewhere with your music, that's fantastic" Sam smiled. This woman seemed to be eternally forcing her smile.
"Your degree would have been useless though." He observed, "Sad to see that my class was just a waste of your time Miss Grant" I spun to face him evenly.
"I'm not gonna do this forever, it'll come in handy later I'd guess" I said, scrambling for a response. He continued to stare at me, as though I wasn't really there. I caught a blinding smile from Sam and took that as a sign to eat. "So what do you do Sam?" I asked, cracking the silence.
"Oh, I stay at home, sometimes I do odd sewing jobs or house cleaning, but Marian earns so much now I hardly need to leave the house" I smiled at her. Her suffocation was almost tangible. As was Marian's pleasure at the situation.
"That sounds really nice, I'd love to be able to sleep in every day!" she chuckled at my attempt. It was horribly constructed; I knew that, as did she. But I felt she needed something solid. Something good about her life. "And you professor? Still at the Uni?" I asked, biting into my generous slice of meat loaf.
"No, he left, uh... was it 3 years ago sweetie?" Sam answered for him. He nodded in her general direction. "He works as an accountant now. Don't you honey?"
"Oh please, I would never, in 5 million trillion YEARS ever dream of becoming a housewife" I teased; munching my way through a half empty packet of chocolate-chip cookies.
"My, my, what a disappointment you are, think of all those Victorian women. They would be appalled at your behavior" he chucked, leaning in for a chaste kiss.
"Fine then, Mr. I'm-so-old-I-can-remember-queen-Victoria-as-a-little-kid, what's YOUR most hated profession?" I asked innocently, earning a whack to my head.
"I" he started, slipping onto the couch beside me, "vow to never, ever, get a job as an accountant" he smirked.
"An accountant? Is it cause they mock the mathematics society endlessly?" I teased, eliciting a chuckle.
"Oh of course, everyone is against the mathematicians, its cause we're so damn sexy" he smirked, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling the blanket fully over both of us.
"An accountant? Wow, I never thought you'd stop teaching" I smiled awkwardly.
"Marian earns a lot more money this way, and it was enough so we could get married and buy this place" Sam smiled; again answering his question for him.
"How long have you two been together?" I asked, giving up on Cross, I turned to face his wife. His wife.
"3 years this January. We met and it was this sort of instant chemistry!" she squeezed out through her widening smile. 3 years ago. The year that I left. "we got married a year later, the day after Christmas, it was so amazing" she beamed over to her husband who offered her a small smile, one that I read as being far too sarcastic, though Sam didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn't want to.
"That's really sweet" I nodded.
"Christmas is coming up" he prodded.
"You're really gonna get me, a poor, lowly, unfinanced exchange Uni student to buy you a present?" I pouted "what kind of HORRIBLE person would do such a thing!"
"You don't have to buy me a present" he whispered into my ear. I felt my face burn red. "But I'll get something for you, for you are, as you said, lowly, unfinanced and Australian" he smirked down at me.
"I love the Christmas lights by the way, the place looks wonderful" I smiled, feeling it crack slightly and hurredly finishing off my dinner.
He moaned into my hair as I kissed further down his collar bone, unbuttoning his plain grey shirt. "Mmm... sweetie you're far too practiced at this" Jack smirked at me. I attempted a flirty smile back, fighting through the horrible feeling in my stomach.
"Kate?" that voice. The whole reason for this... treachery. I twisted around in Jacks arms and tilted my head.
"Hmm?" I asked "Professor Cross?" I felt Jack snigger into my neck.
"We're kinda busy here, teach, in case you hadn't noticed" he sneered. I could barely look at him. Everything about him radiated anger and grief. "So if you could just shuffle off" I forced my mouth into a smirk.
"Nah, lets move somewhere a little less pubic hm?" I winked at him and grabbed his hand to pull him away. Shielding myself from the haughty look Jack sent over his shoulder, and from him. I was killing him.
"I really should be going though, I have to get back to the guys" I repeated. Practically begging Sam to let me leave this prison.
"But its still not that late, you can surely stay longer?" her eyes held an almost unnatural desperation.
"I-I... uh, here, you can have my e-mail if you want?" I was pulling at straws, she already had my mobile number and my exact tour dates. She sighed in defeat. I felt my heart lurch for the girl. She wasn't too much older than me.
"We'll have to keep in touch" she smiled sadly at me; allowing her depression to slip through for just a moment.
"Uh, here, you can have a copy of our CD if you'd like. It's not fantastic, and not fully finished, but..." I trailed off awkwardly. She took the slightly damp case from my hands; her eyes gleaming.
"Thank you" she murmured. "OH wait, I'll wrap you up some of that meat loaf so you can take it back to your friends!" she shot off to the kitchen, leaving me with him and forcing me to look down at my scarred hands. He loomed over the proceedings like an unwanted shadow, contradicting the man I knew.
"You're going to kill her you know" I mumbled, raising my eyes to meet his. He smirked sadly at me.
"I know." He replied.
I escaped out to my car with the meat loaf and minus one soggy CD. I eased out of the driveway, a streak of red amongst well-cared-for mute-coloured Audi's and BMW's. I circled out of the estate; unable to look behind me and see the glittering windows of the house. I pulled up on the side of the road a few kilometers away from their house, rummaging around my glove box. I slid the CD in, flipping to track 10 and switching the engine off. A sob escaped my throat; tightening the hold around my neck. Be my mistake; be my favourite place. As cold as your heart is, here in the middle; stay another day. Stay another day. I bashed my forehead on the steering wheel; pathetic tears sliding onto the black, dirty plastic. Go back with the scene, expose all I've seen. There's no need to hide it. There's no new surprises; stay another day. Stay another day. The tightening hold on my heart increased tenfold. And you ruined me with easiest touch. Tear my world apart now enough is enough. I've been up most of the night now my heads like a train wreck. I pulled my knees to my chest. Crushing them as close as possible to my heart. One more time. Flickers of memories came unbidden. Flashes of his face. His eyes. His voice. Let''s all assume I'm going mad, and the truth it is I'm an unstable man. Of him. There's no way to reason, no ones on my side. Memories flooded my senses, allowing the guilt to partially consume me. Go back to the streets of illusions and dreams. Were things were so honest, where we had our moments; stay another day. Stay another day. The falseness of the scene I just witnessed frightened me. That he had changed. That I had changed him so badly. And you ruined me with the easiest touch. Tear my world apart now enough is enough. I've been up most of the night now my heads like a train wreck. One more time. I sat there ashamed at the tears coursing down my cheeks; at the piteous sob's shuffling through the car. It's never as it seems. And this aint gonna change. What difference does it make to save your sanity. I've seen you on the street I still don't know your name, the shadows on the wall the pictures with the moving eyes the ones who see it all. The image of his old self seemed more like a horrendous ghost. The sentence for my crime. The ones who keeping notes on you. My knuckles burnt white against my jeans, limiting blood flow to my hands. I'll see you when we fall. When we meet our maker. I rocked my head back, smearing my tears further across my face, to stare at the implacable stains on the roof. Return to the start. Forget who we are. Its here if you want it. There's no second chances. Breathed deep. Stay another day. And drove away.
Stay another day.