The Fosters: A Brandon and Callie Production

She was not perfect. She was nowhere near it, in fact. Yet something about her was compelling, like a large, shining diamond covered and marred by dirt and grass, waiting to be touched, to be seen. She was Callie...no-last name, mysterious, and possibly even dangerous, Callie. And Brandon Foster could not get her out of his mind, as before he could blink, she had become entangled in the deepest recesses of his brain, haunting and enchanting him.

He knew it was wrong, but behind closed doors, when he mindlessly tapped his piano, or lay awake in bed, thoughts of her crept up on him, beckoning him to dream. Daydreams of teaching her to strum her guitar, holding her soft callused hands in his own lanky ones, and guiding it across the strings. Dreams of holding her, stronger than him, but still more fragile. Of listening to her, her musical voice spilling her secrets to him, that he could see in her eyes and her walk and her face, and he wanted to be the one that knew all that she was, and he wanted to comfort her and let her live free of that pain. He wanted to make her his, and to be hers, and to kiss her, really kiss her. And yet, he knew it was wrong.

Even if he wanted to make this world of his dreams, such beautiful dreams, into reality, it would not be easy. His mothers were adamant, that a foster family was not for finding one's lover, but to provide a home, a safe haven. Not messy teenage romances, which they'd automatically assume was hormones or therapy for missing Talia. But Talia had never been something special, but he hadn't seen it until now. Not unitl Callie. Callie, Callie was a real girl, with true spirit and soul and more than he could've ever, ever imagined. But did Callie dream of him as he imagined her? Why would she, after all she had Wyatt.

What did Wyatt have that Brandon lacked? Well, it was obvious the two boys were as different as sugar and salt, but as content as Brandon was with his own life, he now envied Wyatt. Wyatt, with his track record, juvy time, long unruly hair, divorced parents, and most importantly, really, just Callie.

Brandon repeatedly banged his head against a wall, as imaged traveled across his closed eyelids, like an endless movie: Callie with her cut lip the first time he saw her, Callie telling him about Jude, Callie slow dancing with him and looking into his eyes, Callie dressed up for Mariana's party, Callie this, Callie that, Callie this morning. He groaned, and then strangely chuckled, realizing his thoughts neatly resembled a repetitive Dr. Seuss book. It was official, he was going crazy.

Maybe it would be better to leave this metaphorical diamond that was Callie alone, as the dirt surrounding might just be hiding venomous snakes of hurt.

Or maybe, he was already in too deep.

Author's Note: Personally, I feel as if there is not enough Brandon/Callie fanfiction online, so I spent a solid fifteen minutes typing up this little thing. I'm a little bit dry on inspiration, and am open for requests.

And if anyone else is a fan of The Fosters, I really do hope you decide to review! I love hearing from readers! (Maybe you've read my HPFF on this account or my JBFF stuff on that site, under ScribblesOfBlackInk?)

Also, I've noticed a lot of people are curious about The Fosters theme song (I know I was!). Anyways, take a minute to go on Youtube and look up Where You Belong by Kari Kimmel. It's a gorgeous and scarily fitting song. (:

Cheers!

ScribblesOfALibra