Hard Candy
Annaleise Marie
Summary: "It's such a fucking cliché, Clarence. Good boy meets bad girl. The whole nine yards of twisted love. Surely you know how it ends?" [Megatiel,, high school AU, smut, language]
Prologue
AN: I tried so hard to resist writing this, to focus on "Alpha and Omega" only. But then Meg was introduced in that story and I don't know dudes, I couldn't resist anymore.
This chapter is a bit sad. The whole story isn't sad though, I swear. Hang in there with me. :)
X
Every night, Gabe left the window unlocked for her. She'd climb the trellis (because of course the giant house had a fucking trellis) and creep across the balcony that spanned the second floor of the house, ducking past the hallway's French doors, lest one of the other Novaks be wandering the hall and spot her, to his window.
Every night, she had to pause there because, God, was it hard to open the window. Because one day...one day it may be locked. One day it may be locked for good.
She leaned her head on the cold frame, the metal frozen and biting against her smooth skin. Her breath fogged the glass. Finally, she straightened up, and with a single burst of resolve, jerked the window up. She swung one foot in, feeling gingerly for the firm floor beneath. It was a bit of a stretch. She was barely over five feet tall and most of the Novaks were built like characters from mythology or something, and though they hadn't built the house, it seemed to be made tall in reflection of that impression.
It was almost funny. The only one who really fit that larger-than-life role in her mind was actually almost the runt of the litter. Second youngest and second smallest, next only to Gabe in both respects.
She found her footing and climbed all the way in, pausing to listen for footsteps in the hall before she finally made her way to the bed, slowly.
She studied him for a moment. "Well Clarence, gotta say, your color is looking better." Her voice, a normally throaty sort of drawl, broke as her throat constricted. It was a poor joke anyway. The moonlight through the window had bathed everything in deep shadows and almost ghostly pale tones.
She took up her post beside his bed, on the rocking chair that she knew his mother occupied during the day, keeping diligent watch.
And Meg? Unbeknownst to all but Gabe, Meg kept watch on the night shift.
She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out her lighter and trusty Marlboros. Red 100's; when he had asked her, she'd told him they tasted like cancer and freedom.
She lit up, her eyes fixed on Castiel in a stubborn dare. "If you don't like it, Clarence, you sit your ass up and tell me to put it out."
But he didn't. Of course he didn't. Meg sat there, the sharp sting of tears burning the edge of her eyelids, until the sun broke over the horizon, washing the room in a warm golden glow.
She stood up. She thought about touching him for a moment, of ruffling his perpetually untidy black hair, of tracing his lips with her fingertips, of gripping his shirt as she sobbed brokenly against his chest.
In the end, she turned, hitching one leg over the windowsill before turning back to Castiel.
"See ya tonight, Clarence."
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AN: Yeeeeah, heavy for a prologue, I know. Still, hopefully I've captured your interest? Tell me what you think!