A/N Hello. Storm here, letting all of you know that I'm an American writer, and I'm doing my best as it is to get the accent and education system just right, so I hope you won't judge my mistakes too harshly.
I call this the Prologue because our story really only begins after this moment in which Naomi sets eyes on Emily Fitch for the first time, and her whole life changes. I hope I've covered everything that Naomi was probably thinking in that one moment that she described in the series finale "Everyone".
"I've loved you since the first time I saw you. I think I was 12."
Please feel free to review and make any suggestions. I would really appreciate it. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, or any of the characters. The only ones I own are Jamie Highlands, and Mr. D.
Enjoy~
- Storm
Prologue~ Naomi
Fucking hell.
I'm so not cut out for this. Mum's hand is on my back as we look up at the sign that states we're at my new school. Mum says it's the best in the country, but I can't imagine being in a school where all my mates from London are replaced with strangers. Not that I don't like Bristol. It's peaceful. Not at all like the city. Environmentally speaking, the rural aspect of Bristol makes it look beat down, but it also makes it feel like home, only months from having moved. I just... I miss my friends. They were sad I was leaving, but they told me I was a "lucky bastard for leaving this shit hole."
A gentle pat from Mum tells me it's time. I gulp and turn my crystal blue eyes to her. I don't even need to speak. She smiles kindly to me, her hand stroking my hair gently.
"Love. Don't be scared. You're lovely, and they're going to love you. All you have to do is let yourself go, and be you. Be Naomi Campbell, vivacious and passionate. Be you." Mum's words soothe me, and my fists unclench at my sides. I nod.
"Okay Mum. I love you. Thank you." I whisper. She smiles and kiss my forehead gently. Then she gives me my bag. When I turned 12, she finally got me the bag I wanted, a simple over-the-shoulder bag, even though she almost bought one of those rubbish recycled ones. I had to insist that I didn't want a bag made of someones reused trash to make a good impression in my new school, and she indulged me. I grip my bag, take a deep breath and walk through the double doors.
10 minutes later I'm in the classroom of Mr. Dae- uhh, what the fuck's, 7th year politics teacher. I love politics. I love feminist ideas and debates and campaigns. I smile at the teacher, finally deciding I will call him Mr. D, because whatever the fuck it says on the board sounds like a new kind of exotic STD.
The warning bell rings and more students rush in. I breathe in and take out a pen and a notebook, fixing my jumper's sleeve where it's all wrinkled. The final bell rings, and I'm aware that Mr. D is taking a look at all his students. He looks tired, as though he's used to the disinterest they're giving him as they all chatter endlessly about the holidays and how their parents took them here and there. I sigh and wait patiently, looking at the teacher with my usual introductory look. The "Hello, get to know me." look. Mr. D notices me, and his eyes brighten considerably, he nods at me, and I nod back. He understands. A pat on my back startles me. I turn shyly to a nice looking guy with light brown floppy hair in the back. I smile, and heat reaches my cheeks. He's cute.
"Ello!" he says in a thick Bristol accent. "I'm Jamie. Jamie Highlands. You're new, aren't you?" I take a minute to think of what I will say and I finally nod, allowing a genuine smile to take over my face.
"Hi Jamie. My name's Naomi Campbell."
After politics, Jamie takes the time to show me around a bit. If he's interested in more than a friendship, he doesn't really say. But for now, I decide that he's nice, and I like him.
"So, London eh? Crazy as they say it is?" Jamie asks as he walks me to my next class, English. I laugh giddily.
"Worse. Crazy is an understatement." I reply and he nods.
"I can imagine, The city's never called me. In fact, I think that if I were surrounded by any more people, I'd go bloody mad!" he chuckles, but there is a darker tone in his soft voice that makes me think he hasn't had it easy. I raise my eyebrow teasingly.
"Ahh. A misanthropic bastard who's too nice for his own good." I guess. His eyes meet mine, a light honey with dark flecks. They sparkle with mischief.
"'Fuck off! Look who's talking Ms. Please Pick Me Mister D. Bet you'd give him a blow job if he let you talk your mouth off all class about how being a feminist rules the country!" he teases, and I snort.
"Fuck you! He's nice and I like his class that's all!" I shove him playfully. He snorts as an echo of me.
"Whatever." There's a comfortable silence, but I can see he wants to speak, so I stay silent, letting him gather his thoughts. He clears his throat. "It's not people. It's... the thought of what someone can do to you if they have the right hold." he finally states, and leaves me thinking.
"Well yes, you're right, but... if you never take a chance, you will never know what you lose, you know?" I softly say, and his honey eyes pierce my own. He smiles, but it's so sad it actually makes me want to cry.
"Ahh but Naomi, love, once you try, it's like a drug. You can't fucking stop." he whispers. I bite my lip.
"I bet I could." I tell him. He laughs, but the sound is hollow as he takes my hand in a friendly squeeze and leads me into English class.
"Don't bet on what you don't know, love."
2 weeks later, I suddenly know what he means. And I'm fucking scared. It all starts out like a regular day. Meet Jamie at the front, walk to Politics, sit. Talk to the girl next to me because she wants me to help her with her Politics homework, and then listen to Mr. D lecture about Parliament and the wonders of democracy. Politics ends, then we walk to English, always bantering about how I can't shut my mouth in that class. And suddenly, he fucking shoves me. I blame him for hours after this, because if he hadn't shoved me, we wouldn't have clashed. I wouldn't have stumbled and fallen in every sense of the word. I groan, and the girl beneath me swears softly under her breath. I'm under the impression she doesn't do that much. Jamie is hovering over us, as is some loud cow, screaming that I "get the fuck off of Emily". I hear 'Emily' swear again and I shake my head to clear it. I'm getting up when she opens her eyes and they lock onto mine.
And just like that, my life is over.
Ripples of warmth are surging through my body. My heart is beating, loud, hard, and fast. Was it ever really beating before this moment? The warmth is trickling down my heart and invading my soul. Her eyes, a creamy, milk chocolate brown, warm like a Bar of Milky way in the sun. I can't... I can't look away. I can't breathe, or move. She's killed me with those fucking eyes. A far away pull settles itself in my brain. Jamie. Pulling me up and away from her. My eyes stay stuck to hers, but the sounds begin to return.
"Naoms? Naomi? Oh fuck. Does she have a concussion or something?! Naoms! Look at me!" he begs frantically. I want to tell him I can't look away because those eyes own me now, but my mouth won't move. I imagine I must like a fucking idiot. Pupils dilated, mouth open and completely unresponsive. But I just... I can't let her look away or I'll die, I know I will die, I'll go back to gray and black and white and I'll be cold. I'll stop seeing brown, and the warmth that is radiating through my entire being with speed. I don't know how I know it but I do. I could never be the same after I got to see this shade of brown.
I'm aware that time has seemed to stop while these thoughts race in my head, and all I can think is brown. Brown eyes brown brown, fucking brown.
Suddenly Jamie's voice is overpowered by an obnoxious screech.
"Emily, fucking answer me, did the stupid bitch hurt you?!" it says, loud and rude, but I don't care what she calls me. I am overwhelmed by a sudden anguish. Have I hurt this angel?
Oh fuck me. I think I preferred to be silenced by her eyes because now she's fucking smiling at me. It's a shy, reserved smile, but it's so blinding that I think I may never see again, what with the combination of her eyes and her fucking adorable smile.
Wait what? Adorable? What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with me, here I am ogling at this girl, girl for Christ's sake. Wait what? More confusion invades me. Is it even normal to like a girl if you're a girl? The concept baffles me. What the actual fuck.
And my panic is interrupted when the angel speaks:
"I'm fine, Katie. Naomi didn't mean to, did you Naomi?" she says, her smile even wider. I swallow visibly, and am hit by another wave of panic as I realize I've lost the ability to speak. My mouth opens, but all the comes out is a horribly strangled noise similar to a gargling gargoyle. I immediately shut it an swallow once more. Concern flashes in my angel's beautiful brown eyes. "Shit, you're right Jamiekins. She could have a concussion." worry is in her tone and I desperately try to shake my head, but I've lost all control of my brain. Jamie starts to speak
"Well then I'll-"
"Fuck that! I think she's just a dumb cow isn't she? Hey bitch, you deaf or are you fucking stupid?" the same obnoxious voice interrupts Jamie, and I finally find the strength to tear my eyes away from Angel's face to Bitch's face. I groan as I'm met with the same brown that lost me the ability to form a coherent sentence. But no. This isn't my brown. This isn't shy, insecure pools of desperation that invaded my soul. They're similar, but they aren't Angel's brown. They aren't home.
"Fucks sake Naoms. Say something!" Jamie's anger suddenly shocks me, I turn to him, surprised. Then, when I see his expression, I understand. He's worried. I swallow and try to speak.
"I.. I'm. uh. Oh f-fuck." I stutter. Stutter? What the fuck. I don't fucking stutter. And Jamie knows that. His eyes widen and he grabs my shoulders.
"Naomi, do you need to see the nurse?" he asks. And I want to tell him that I don't fucking need the nurse. I need to go back home, not to Mum's, I need to go back home into Emily's brown eyes. But I still can't speak so I shake my head and turn my eyes back to Emily's. My knees turn to jelly again as I see the relief in her expression. She smiles again. So that's what "heart stops" feels like. She holds out her hand.
"Emily Fitch." her voice is husky, homey, sexy. I gulp and stare at it like it's some strange package with a bomb. Because honestly, Emily Fitch could be a fucking bomb. Emily Fitch. Emily Fitch. Angel Emily Fitch. My eyes go from her hand to her eyes and back over and over. I feel lightheaded. Jamie touches my shoulder and I look at him, trying to express my anguish with that one look. Done. He got the message. He smiles pleasantly at the two girls as I suddenly realize why they're eyes are so similar.
Fucking hell. There's two of them. One's an Angel, and the other is fucking Lucifer himself.
"Hello Ems, Katie. This is Naomi Campbell, she's new, from London. She's really sorry but kind of winded so if you could please excuse us, we are a little late for English." he bows to both of them in a teasing way. This Katie girl, obviously Emily's twin, is instantly appeased. A seductive look has taken over her previous anger and she flirtatiously pushes Jamie.
"Oh alright Jamiekins. See you around, yeah?" she says in what I think she means to be a sexy voice, but after I've heard Emily's, I can never think something is sexy again. Fuck. Shut up Naomi..
Jamie nods. He smiles to Emily now.
"Alright Ems? Didn't get thrown too hard? It's my fault really, I shoved her." he admits guiltily, his eyes flashing to mine, relieved when he sees I'm not angry with him. Emily waves his apology away with a tiny hand. In fact, most of her is tiny. Finally somewhat coherent, I let my eyes sweep her tiny body. Red flaming hair, petite in length, and lacking in body fat, I realize Emily Fitch is the most fucking beautiful, adorable, and nerve-wracking person on the earth. My eyes reach hers once more, and I feel my cheeks flush as her wide eyes tell me she saw me checking her out. Fuck's sake. She visibly swallows and turns her beautiful eyes to Jamie.
"I'm good Jamiekins. I hope Naomi is though." Her tone tells me she thinks I'm mad, and I wonder why. Is it cause I've not spoken since I met her eyes, or because I just checked her out. Probably both.
"Alright then. We'll be off now." Jamie speaks for both of us once more, as I am still staring at the Angel sent to destroy me. When he realizes I won't move without help, his fingers lock around mine and he pulls gently. "C'mon Naoms."
I barely nod, and take a wobbly step forward, And shit her hand is suddenly on my arm. She's touching me, fucking touching me. Shit, holy fucking shit!
"Whoa. Steady there, Naomi." her smile is back, not faltering now and I stare blankly at her. A hot flash hits me down below, and my eyes widen. What the fuck! I recoil, tearing my arm away, stuttering wildly, but her smile is still there, as she waves, as Jamie pulls me more firmly, and as those beautiful brown eyes grow farther and farther away and get lost in the crowd.