It was that age-old roaring of the glittering motorcycle engines that ripped Lola from her sweet, deep sleep. She woke up yawning, her breath sweet and crystallized sugar seeming to gather at the corners of her mouth as drool would. The sun kissed her skin so tenderly, just as it always had; the Mexican honey of her complexion always made gold with those warm rays. She brushed a few strands of caramel brown hair from her dark eyes and stretched her arms until the cracked. The sheets tangled around her slender, copper legs and she kicked wildly for a moment, trying to release herself from the cotton confines that made her hair stick to the back of her neck in the warm dorm room.
She slid a pair of cotton shorts up her legs and kept on the lace-trimmed camisole she had slept in. Perhaps if she looked more her age and perhaps if she were more fairly-endowed she would worry about putting on some type of brassier, but she knew there really wasn't much of a point to that as there was hardly anything to contain or keep still. She wound a black scrunchy around the thick and messy explosion of waves at the base of her neck and pushed back more stray pieces that around her heart-shaped face. She stepped out of her dorm room and into the hallway, which was quiet in its early morning tranquility, and made her way to the bathroom. Maybe a handful of years ago should would have had the mind to knock and ask if anyone was busy in there, but these days she just kicked open the door and walked in on what she happened to walk in on.
Today wasn't bad, Jax was merely peeing. She'd walked in on much worse in the past... But those were memories she preferred not to recall.
"Hey," he greeted, sending her a quick nod of his white-blonde head. He was nearly naked beside a pair of white boxer shorts that he had pulled down in order to use the toilet. The sun caressed his back so divinely it was like the colossal star itself had sewn him some silken, gilded shroud. Ink crawled across his back and forearms which held the stream of his urination steady. Lola averted her eyes when he looked up at her.
Things weren't like they were with Jax anymore. They'd passed three schools together not having looked at one other with anything besides petulant annoyance, childish rivalry, and esoteric laughter. Or, at least that's what both of them kept clear on their faces during those years. In actuality, there had been some dark-colored bond between them that ran beneath the floor and ran as slowly and heatedly as blood seeps from a bullet wound. That bond always kept them together in a way not even them could understand, but since he first met her and she first met him the bond had tied the light-featured ladykiller to the dark princess of anarchy.
Lola had been first ushered into the clubhouse on a late night in June. It was catastrophically hot—bringing the straightened hair of girls into frizzy globs and dappling the shirts of men with dark drops of sweat. Thankfully for Lola, that thick heat was something half of her blood was born to live in, so the heat never bothered her. But that night she had been pushing her quarter at a party filled with so many lusty and lascivious men even she had felt so terribly warm in the damp heat consuming the home in which the party was held. She was thirteen then and still in Nevada, cleaning up the wreckage the dragon that flew through left behind.
Forward four months and Lola was inexplicably adopted by Gemma Teller-Morrow, whose heart was still scabbing over at the loss of her six year-old son, Thomas, to a heart defect. That dark and empty space inside of her was filled with the little girl whose dark eyes had seen nightmares middle-aged women like Gemma were lucky to never even have dreamed of. She came in as Paloma Winston, the accidental daughter of Conseja Alvarez and Nicholas "Nicki" Winston. She was begotten as a result of Nicki's immediate infatuation with the off-limits Mayan angel whose older brother was heir apparent to the Mayan throne.
Paloma was born on a stagnant summer night in blood and fear. With her birth came the death of Conseja, who could not safely gain admitance to a nearby hospital with the looming threat of her livid brother and father. Born of two enemy clubs, Paloma began her life in the Mayan Club from which her late mother hailed. It was only until the Sons arrived unannounced at a Mayan house that party she was free from the heroin-hyped horror and was relocated to the Sons of Anarchy Club. Lola often wondered that if Gemma had not been so torn up inside over Thomas, would she still be pushing for the Mayans? And probably, at her age, deep in their prostitution ring…
"You're twenty-three and you still can't remember to flush a toilet?" Lola asked with a mouth full of toothpaste and a dancing blue toothbrush. Jax turned back around and kicked his foot up. The content of the porcelain basin swirled away with the startling flush.
At the single-sink mirror, Jax maneuvered around her the best he could as he tried to complete the same morning routine she did. It was a matter of time and luck with them—a matter which they faced nearly every morning. When Jax had reached the sink first her would block any possible chance of her gaining access to the mirror with his broad and hard torso; when Lola reached the sink first she would try her best to kick him away until she was done.
Jax grabbed a hold of her thick ponytail and yanked her backwards half a foot so he could reach over her shoulder and retrieve his toothbrush. "Hey!" She cried, immediately sending her elbows back into him.
"This would be easier if you would just stand against the wall," he said, taking her by the shoulders and positioning her as he thought was most effective. He moved to stand opposite of her. Only several inches separated their hips and torsos, and Lola was forever thankful for that extravagant height he had piled up over the years, or else it would be even more tense than she could have imagined.
The uncomfortable look on Jax face said it all. They could do nothing but meet one another's eyes in the position and even Lola's golden cheeks bloomed with red roses. Jax considered saying something, but then decided against it. First he internally scolded himself for putting them in this position without realizing how uncomfortable it really would be, then he scolded himself for even making the long-awaited first move on her that past July, and then he scolded himself for never being able to maintain his usual suave self around Lola.
His mind swirled with the memory of that balmy night. Whenever his mind began to swirl as such, the first thing he saw were her hazel eyes—storms of chocolate brown and forest green and flickering gold. The first thing he smelled was the dewy scent of her swanlike neck against his nose and lips, the heat of the midsummer night captured by her warm skin and released as that natural perfume she seemed to carry which smelled like sunlight and gardenias blooming beneath it. The first thing he heard was her curved and ample lips releasing his name in mellifluous giggles and private remarks. And the first thing he felt was the smoothness of her summery skin beneath his calloused hands—impeccably soft and radiant like a pearl beneath the moon.
He knew he loved her that night, and he regretted ever thinking about her in the way that he had those months before that July night. That cotton candy cloud carried the two in secret through the remainder of the month until it all combusted in flames—she was admitted to USC. Lola didn't tell Jax about her application because she thought her admittance lay on incredibly slim chances, but when she found out they wanted her, Jax wasn't happy for her… He wasn't happy at all. It'd taken them nearly four years to understand their feelings for one another and make themselves happy, and then she was leaving.
So as they brushed their teeth across from each other, one year after they first knew each other and one year after she left, Jax couldnt help but stare at the black toenail polish on her dark, slender toes and she couldn't help but focus on the twittering of birds outside the window.
Here's my new Sons of Anarchy story... It's coming purely out of spontaneity, but I'm really interested in pursuing this idea! Anyways... Enjoy, and leave as much reception as your can! Tell me what you like, don't like... It's all helpful! ( :