Click. Click. Click. Click.
The rhythmic sound of the old and beaten typewriter echoed through the room. It was a quiet night in the Lodging House, and there was an absence of people that spoke volumes. Honestly, Bookworm couldn't get enough of it.
Christmas Eve. All of her newsies were most likely out with their friends or lovers in Manhattan or perhaps Brooklyn, if they were willing to travel. Queens was at a relative equal distance from both of those boroughs, so those were the relative hotspots where her newsies traveled to. Bookie's gaze slowly went from the paper she was typing on to the window her desk was situated in front of. It hasn't snowed in a week, thank god, but it would have been nice to have some snow for show, especially before the big day.
Bookworm bit her lip and took off her glasses, swooping down to pick up the hem of her skirt so she could clean the specs. She hated the holidays with every thing in her. Up till she was about eight or nine, she had been given presents and trinkets in her stocking and under her tree for Christmas, giggling with glee at the May basket placed upon her doorstep whilst scurrying after the person whom had given her the gift, and huge elaborate feasts on Thanksgiving with juicy turkey and airy stuffing drizzled with pan juice and... Don't go there Bookie. Her stomach screamed in protest at the thought of such food. But when she was younger, she was able to experience all of those things. She knew what it felt like to feel the excitement. But now her newsies, the young ones especially, were unable to know the joy of it, and that sickened her. How could their childhood already be over when it's just begun?
So now, here she was, sitting in her room filled with small toys and pieces of clothing (for the little kids and the big kids, respectively) and trying to figure out how she could've possibly spent most of her money on all of that. Feeling frustrated at the situation (as usual), she decided to write it out, but was finding it difficult to concentrate.
Starlight, twinkle,
Starlight, shine
Starlight witness
Our souls intertwine.
Shunned from the sun,
Only admitted by the moon,
Waiting by the fire
My love, I'll see you soon.
Secretly wreathed
By the god forsaken snow,
Jolly elves gaze down upon you
As your breath is as last let go.
"Hmm, that's cheery." A voice murmured in the girl's ear, the heat of the person's breath itching at the sensitive skin behind it.
The Queen of Queens muffled a shriek as she jabbed at the person behind her and turned swiftly around, already reaching for her knife before her ears finally connected with the "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" the person was pleading.
"My god, Ace, ya gave me a start!" Bookie snapped at her second in command while he only sent her an infuriating smirk. His curved nose was tipped with a red hue from the biting cold outside and his cheeks held the same splash of color. His lithe frame shivered lightly but Ace would never let on that he was. He had on thick socks and boots, long pants and a flannel shirt that for the most part kept him nice and cozy. But with out a jacket, gloves, hat or scarf, he was still susceptible to the winter weather.
"I's not my fault that you's is such a goil, Book. You's really need to get dat looked into, bein' da leada an' everythin'." Bookie looked into his eyes for a long moment and decided his hazel eyes were unusually pronounced against the bloodshot background of his eyes. Usually when his eyes are like that, he's drunk.
"Look into being a girl?" She snapped at him sardonically. "Alright, will do sir. My apologies," She maneuvered herself closer to him, if only for the sake of finding out if he really was intoxicated. And maybe she could do something about his shivering….
"Good. Cuz, we's all know dat a good leada 'as to be—"
"A girl, because guys never get anythin' right? Couldn't've said it better myself!" Bookie bumped shoulders with him and when he laughed, his breath rolled over and she could smell the whiskey. Definitely drunk. "Alright, Ace, let's go play some cards." That immediately sobered him up.
"Yeah, wif what deck?" Recently, Ace had lost his favorite (and only, for that matter) deck in a gamble that almost also cost him his life. Thankfully, he got a way with little to no injuries, but that didn't mean he was still happy. And a pissed off second-in-command made for a pissed off first, making it a lose-lose situation for all.
"I don't know, open this up and find out." The dark-haired 15 year old started rummaging through her pile of wrapped gifts for her newsies to find the newspaper-wrapped rectangle near the bottom. All the while, the older boy watched her in silence with an unreadable expression on his face.
She turned and tossed him his gift, which he caught with ease, all the while maintaining eye contact. "You'se didn't hafta do that." He said to her. She shrugged. "Honestly, Bookie, you'se didn't. You shouldn'ta. I'se don't gots nubbin' for you, so now I feel like a—"
"Just open your gift, Ace, I'm in the mood for some poker, not your whining." Bookie smiled at him and just watched him while he pursed his lips and then tore at the newspaper with nimble, ink stained fingers.
He hesitated only for a moment, before pulling the cards out of the box. The deck was a nice crisp white with olive numbers and ornate design. His eyes seemed to burn a hole through the gift before he looked back up at the girl. "Bookie, I can't. I just… I can't even…."
"Just deal out the cards, Ace." She rolled her eyes at him and in a swift movement, pulled a thick wool blanket off her bed and into her arms, to continue to stalk past him to the hall. In a moment, the young man was right besides her, feeding on her warmth and he joined her in going down the stairs. Their feet creaked on the worn and scratched up wood, letting the whole world know that it was just the two of them going down to the dining room.
Their footfalls echoed in the silence as they drifted to the huge room that could seat two hundred, but only for the moment housed the pair. They sat on one of the shabby benches and faced each other, bronze eyes to hazel. There was a tense moment where neither of the two did nothing, until Ace finally started shuffling the deck.
Bookie took the blanket in her arms and placed it over the two of them, and bit her lip. She hoped he would be warm enough. "So, where were ya, and why are ya home so early?" She casually asked whilst looking down. She proceeded to straighten out the wrinkles in the scratchy material as she felt his eyes bore into her.
"I was out wif the 'Hattaners." Bookie's eyes flicked to his for a moment and then back down. "Race 'n da boys." She gave him a curt nod and only turned to face the table when Ace started swiftly dealing the cards. "I'se got kicked out." A moment of silence. "Again."
Bookie laughed at that. Ace Zamaftas always had a knack for making enemies with his friends. 'Not to mention lovers out of friends', a thought brushed across her mind, and she waved a hand in front of her as if to get rid of it. 'Don't be silly. He'd take your spot in a New York minute, given the chance.
'He's conceited, self-centered, a flirt, and a gambler. Not to mention, he's a plain-spoken, know-nothing, skirt-chasing, cocky little son of a—'
"Not thinkin' a me, is ya?" Came said person's infuriating tone. He sounded as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, which for the most part, wouldn't surprise the girl one bit.
"God forbid." Was all the black-haired youth replied with. Another lapse of silence befell the two. It wasn't an awkward silence, though. It was a necessary one, in order for the two to concentrate on beating the other to a pulp in the ground.
Around a good hour or two, when Ace came out as victor, the other kids started to trickle in, having Bookie in need of exercising her right as leader. "Alright, everyone! You need to get to bed now, or no presents in the morning!" Bookworm was standing in the doorway in front of the stairs, making sure every newsie she saw went upstairs. The little ones had started bouncing in excitement at the thought of gifts, but grew somber at the thought of sleep. The older ones, though, were basically half dead from exhaustion or from being so intoxicated.
Bookie's sharp eyes assessed all of them as they slowly trickled by up the same worn stairs that her and Ace had clambered down earlier that evening. At that moment, a particularly rowdy group of newsies stumbled past her. One fell at her feet and immediately, the girl was there to help him up. "Shh." The boy slurred, smashing his hand across her entire face, probably trying to find her lips. "Dun tell," He hiccupped and looked at her with dumb, faded eyes, "Dun tell Booookie." He then leaned in a tad too close for her comfort, and he looked both ways down the hall and back at her with a tad sense of urgency. "I am… very very drunk." With that, Puddles was out like a light.
She rolled her eyes at his antics, and said, "Alright, one of you guys help him up to his bed, okay?" She took a step back and crossed her arms worriedly, having her right foot itch the back of her left calf. God, I hope they're sober enough to take care of him. Thankfully (or unfortunately, depending), Cheetah stepped forward with a cat-like grin. He stood there for a moment, appraising her. His golden eyes stared into hers competitively, and she had no intention of breaking the gaze.
"Who says I'm takin' orders frum a goil? I's a new yea, maybe we's should get a new rula." He murmured as if he was suggesting that he himself would be better.
"You'se is drunk, Cheet. Take your friend, an' go ta sleep." Ace said from somewhere behind Bookie. She heard his boots thump on the floor as he slowly moved toward him. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise as she felt his presence get nearer, until his strong shoulder was pressing into her back. 'Stupid small doorway...' She hissed in her mind.
Ace must've looked dangerous or something, because Cheetah threw up his hands in a 'I-give-up' manner. "Alright, alright." He half turned towards the other two boys who were giggling at the exchange. "'ey, you two. Pick up Puddles he'e and put 'im ta bed." When they didn't immediately do that, he snapped, "Now!" Miraculously, the two scrambled to get the task done. "Bozos."
When Cheetah looked back at the two leaders of Queens, he just stared for a second, his gaze fixed slightly above them. He burst out laughing, then, causing everyone to gawk at him.
"You'se both is for followin' traditions, ain't you'se?" He asked them vaguely, barely able to choke down his laughter. He wasn't able to keep the huge Cheshire grin off of his face, no matter how much he tried.
"A' course! Tha's what Bookie he'e and I is tryin' ta install inta da littla kids, and what?" Ace started to explain to an increasingly amused Cheetah when Bookie started nudging him in the chest with her elbow. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling at his leader. Usually, he wouldn't care because he and Bookie were in that stage of their relationship where they didn't care what the other said to them as long as they didn't try to kill the other. But, he didn't want Cheetah to think he could disrespect her, just because Ace did.
"Look." Said girl replied grimly, staring up at the doorway over them as if it was Death himself. And that was when he saw it. The mistletoe.
"Traditions are traditions, Ace." Cheetah shrugged, and Ace clenched his jaw when he heard the other newsies' little group cackling like hyenas.
"I'se ain't kissin' her." He glared.
"But Ace, you'se jus' said, you'se is tryin' ta 'install inta da littla kids' dat traditions must be followed, right?"
"Yeah, well, I'se don't see no little kids around, now, do you?"
"Dere ain't no use in tryin' ta teach dem kids to do somefin' if you won't, so dat's a tad hypocritical, isn't it?"
"Oh, for gods' sake!" Bookie nearly screamed, causing all those around to jump, startled. She swiveled around and in a quick motion, pulled Ace's lips to hers. She kept the newsie from being able to run by her tight grip on his head, with one hand on the side of his rapidly blushing face, and one hand tangled in his reddish-brown hair. The kiss itself was… Astonishing. A sweet pang rang through out Bookie as if she was a gong. The kiss started off a tad forceful, mostly because it was meant to shut Cheetah up, but…. Then he was kissing back. And it was so beautiful. Ace's hands went from his side to her waist as he gave up what he was saying before diving into the moment. Logic no longer ruled here.
His thumbs twirled in circles where they were placed, sending waves of emotion crash through out the girl. Her back was subsequently placed against the smooth wood, giving her something stable to hold on to while she was flying.
But the sound of someone clearing their throat broke them out of the trance. And there, standing in all her glory, was Matron Harris. A sound nothing anybody has ever heard of came out of the back of Bookie's throat as she looked up at the matron with large doe eyes. Ace was still pressed up against her and their hands were more or less in the same position as they started. Bookie was the first to get her bearings, though as she smiled smoothly and locked gazes with the enraged matron.
"And that, boys, is what not to caught doing with a girl." She cheerfully told the newsies who were scrambling up the stairs at the sight of the woman in charge. In the broiling silence that followed, Bookie threw off Ace's hands as an afterthought.
"I am going to pretend I didn't see that, seeing as it's Christmas eve." The matron growled at the two, making them wince on the inside. The matron was always the most kind woman they've ever met, so when she was this mad, it meant something. "But if I ever catch you two doing that again, Bookie, you are out on the streets." Bookie's eyes widened and she just looked at the matron with a 'what the heck!?' face. "You staying here is a privilege not a right. You're the only girl newsie here, and if you want to stay here, then you obey our rules. Now both of you, off to bed." When they didn't move, she added, "Now."
They were off. Bookie skipped around Matron Harris and ascended the stairs as fast as her legs could take her, with all of her attention placed on not tripping on her skirts. Bookworm heard Ace right behind her and for some reason, that managed to speed her up quite a bit.
When they reached the top of the staircase, the black haired girl whipped around to talk to her second. But since it was a sudden movement, and she gave him no warning, he managed to crash into her. Bookie's cheeks started flaming as she pushed Ace's chest so he was far away from her.
Ace tumbled into the wall and nearly down the stairs and Bookie felt a moment of panic before he righted himself and caught the fall. Ace's eyes looked like an almost stunning, vibrant peridot as he moved in closer to her so his face was inches away from hers. Their breaths mingled and Bookie shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at his intense eyes. "Well," He chuckled darkly, "Dis changes t'ings."
Ace opened his mouth to say something else but then thought better of it. "Well den…. Sweet dreams, m'lady." He mock saluted the Queen and walked down the hall to the third door on the left. He was about to enter his private room when he looked back at her and winked. The next moment, he was gone.
Bookie closed her eyes and calmed her breathing, since she felt as though she was about to go into shock and start hyperventilating or something. When all of her emotions were in order and her walls were securely up, she snatched her glasses off and reached for the hem of her skirt again. Bookie started mumbling to herself about boys and their blasphemous stupidity, and when her glasses were wiped to her satisfaction, she adjusted the thin wire rims on her nose and scrambled off to her room.
God, she hated the holidays.
A/N: OH MY GLOB, GUYS, I APOLOGIZE FOR DISAPPEARING ON Y'ALL. I WILL GET EVERY REQUEST DONE, I GIVE YOU MY OATH. It's just taking me some time!
Now, on to this. I own it all. The poem, the characters, the setting. Perhaps not Race, but really guys, that's debatable. ;P These are just my OCs and I wishing you a MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! :D Now, I was seriously debating whether having the ending saying she loved the holidays, instead of hate, but I thought that hate was better because it showed that she was frustrated and not willing to accept any feelings she has for Ace. Right? That makes sense? Good! These are also characters from an upcoming Newsies fic of mine called, "Queen of Queens". I hope y'all look forward to it, otherwise... I'm sorta screwed. ^.^ ALSO. I didn't proof-read so I apologize for any mistakes! Love you all!
Later days,
Writergirl
