SLIGHT UPDATE
*Standard Disclaimer Comin' At Ya*: I Don't Own Sailor Moon. Those rights go to Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation. Other things I make no claim to are B.C. Rich Guitars, ramen noodles, the Twilight Zone, logical thoughts, and the beautifully inspiring music and lyrics of the Italian metal band Lacuna Coil. All copyrights go straight to them, not to me! Their music inspires me too much to try to rip it off!
AN: WOW! I just want to thank everyone for their encouraging reviews and the suggestions. You've made me smile like dis' ^_^ ! Keep em' comin' at me! I appreciate each one of them! And since you like this fic, be prepared. It's gonna' be a long one! One more thing, too: this fic is rated 'M' for many reasons. It may get a little angsty here and there, and it has its share of issues to face. And potty mouth all around! Much like reality on the whole, ne? Just thought I'd let you guys know. Now, I'll shut up and bring ya' chapter 2!
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Their apartment was already a bit cramped, but they managed to move around enough crates, amps and empty beer bottles to find a place for her. Serena dropped all her belongings in a corner before flopping down mightily upon the couch. At that point she really didn't feel like singing and was glad to hear Chad voice his concerns.
"Hey, guys? I really need to see Raye, so would you mind if we put off practice till' tomorrow morning? I haven't seen much of her all week," he griped, and Andrew smiled.
"Sure thing. I have some shit to do anyway. What about you two?" he asked Serena and Darien. Try as he might, Andrew simply couldn't let himself be at ease leaving his cousin alone in the company of the one of his friends with the most sullied reputation. Though they'd been through some pretty overwhelming times together, he knew Darien better than anyone alive, and he had bared witness to some of the gruesome "relationships" he'd feigned over the two or so years they'd be acquainted.
It had occurred to Andrew more than once that his comrade didn't exactly take pleasure in leaving females strewn about in his wake, but the fact remained that he made no apologies for it, either. Whether he intended to be such a playboy or not made no difference to him.
If his beloved baby cousin managed to get caught in his sights, Andrew knew he'd have no choice but to keep her from being hurt. He'd failed her once. Allowing it to occur again was not something he would ever do.
She shook her head at Andrews's question. After the day she'd had, she wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a quiet night to herself.
"I'm tired. I guess I'll just stay here," she answered, quickly seeing the odd look that appeared upon her cousin's face.
"Same here. I'm gonna' try to get this line right," Darien announced, picking up his guitar. He too noticed the look on Andrew's face, and he wondered why he appeared so ill all of a sudden.
"Hey Darien?" he began, before Chad stepped in, cutting him off in mid sentence.
"Time to go. I'm sure they'll be fine without us. Come on, man," Chad prompted, jingling the keys to his ancient van in Andrew's face. Besides, his only concerns at the present time were managing to get his accursed piece of junk van to start and being granted some much needed quality time with the fiery girl that had managed to infatuate him completely.
He grumbled something about the transmission as Andrew sighed mightily, knowing that it would be best to simply stop stressing himself out for no reason. This was Darien, for fuck's sake!
Due to the many sensible thoughts dancing through his mind, he relented, settling for shooting a quite readable look of silent warning to his best friend. He had been behaving himself, after all. At least that fact stood like stone to reassure him. And Serena was no naïve little girl, either. Never had he seen her let her guard down so much as to allow herself to be harmed. Not in a long while, anyway.
"We'll be back later. Take it easy, little girl," he told her, moving to place a tender kiss upon her forehead. His gaze was locked with Darien's the entire while, silent understanding flowing between them.
"You too, Drew. Stay outta' trouble, ok?" she teased, causing a smile to break out across his face.
"Sure thing," he promised, his attention falling then upon the still silent Darien.
"Catch you later," he told him, receiving a nod in response. With a twinge of sorrow nipping at his heart, Andrew too disappeared out the door, leaving her alone with the rather impassive looking man across the room.
Serena gazed over at Darien, who sat bent over his guitar. He made a perfect rock star, she thought, her eyes running over every inch of him. The unbuttoned black shirt and black leather pants gracing his godlike form didn't help her fragile heart one iota and she had to tear her eyes away before being caught staring at him.
"You sounded really great yesterday," she said, breaking through the awkward silence that had enveloped them. He looked up at her, cobalt eyes dark with something she could yet to read.
"Thanks. You didn't sound too bad yourself. Did you take lessons or where you born with that voice?" he wondered, strumming his guitar lightly.
"No lessons. It's just my thing, I guess," she told him, watching his nimble fingers run down the frets. He seemed so engrossed with his task, as if the need to play were inherent within him. It was a good thing, she thought, that theirs was the lone apartment in the creakity old building they lived in, else they'd have been kicked out due to the noise a long time ago.
"Play for me," she requested suddenly, and he looked up once more, granting her his full attention. Serena fought back a shiver as his smooth voice filtered into her ears.
"What do you want to hear?" he asked, turning on his amp and shoving his hair out of his eyes. Serena chewed the inside of her jaw, trying to keep from smiling. Perhaps she should've gone with Andrew after all.
"I don't know. . . 'A Ghost Between Us'," she answered, walking over to perch upon a stool near him.
"Get ready," he said simply, before his guitar's wail pierced the air.
Serena listened to five minutes of beautiful guitar work, her eyes admiring the equally beautiful guitarist as well. She wondered why he hadn't rushed off to see some lady friend like his band mates. Jealousy surged through her again, and she fought to quell it before it got the better of her. When the song was finished, he looked to her, awaiting her response to his flawless playing.
"Beautiful," she whispered, the melody still seeming to dance all about her.
'Not nearly as beautiful as some things,' he mused silently, surprising himself with the sudden thoughts invading his grossly boggled mind.
"Now it's your turn. Sing for me," he asked, putting down his guitar and moving to lie down upon the couch. He put his hands behind his head as he watched her move to stand before him. Gods, she was gorgeous. That he would never deny. His line of thought soon deviated, as it had since she'd first entered his apartment and his heart.
Just one taste, he thought. One quick taste wouldn't hurt, would it? Maybe she'd even welcome it. She had stayed in his arms for an abnormally long time earlier, and it had given him the impression that perhaps he wasn't the only one of the two of them being assaulted by sudden, random urges to be a bit mischievous.
"So, what do you want to hear?" she asked, matching his gaze without faltering and snapping him back to his place in reality.
Her anxiety remained well hidden, her curiosity overshadowing everything else. If he was able to remain so composed, so too would she. Or dig her own grave trying.
" 'Falling' ", came the casual reply, and she began her melodious song, prepared to enchant him to the fullest extent of her capability. As she sang he watched her, the way her head tilted back, exposing her throat to his view.
Gods, how he wished to allow his lips roam over that beautifully soft skin, to taste every last gorgeous inch of her. Her voice was just as beautiful as it'd been yesterday, perhaps even more so, he mused. A few minutes later she'd finished, and he applauded her as she curtsied ever so gracefully before him, long golden locks cascading down around her diminutive form.
"Now," she began, flopping back down on the cushion opposite him, her gaze locked upon him.
"What to do?" she wondered, wishing he'd show the least little sign of discomfort. His poise was far past the threshold of irritating her. She was struggling to control herself and he had the audacity to sit there as if nothing in existence affected him?
"I don't know about you, but I'm gonna' play some more. I want the sound to be perfect for the show," he said, and she paled noticeably at his words.
"Show? We're playing somewhere?" she choked, and he flashed her a brilliant smile, one that did nothing to sooth her heart in the least.
"Yeah, next week. Don't look so sick, Serena. With that voice you have nothing to doubt," he complimented.
"Uh, Darien? Andrew didn't say we'd be playing in front of anyone so soon. You see, I have. . . well. . . damn! I've got stage fright from hell," she admitted, turning a bit green at the mere thought of being onstage in front of throngs of judgmental onlookers.
"No shit. Listen, Serena. Once you get up there in front of everyone, with their eyes on you, you'll just let loose with that voice and nothing else will matter. You won't even think about it at all," he assured her, but his words didn't seem to help. In fact, he could almost see the nausea wash over her as she sat opposite him upon the couch, making him wonder if it would be a fine idea to make himself scarce before she became ill. However, she soon gained her composure, voicing her concerns once again.
"You don't understand, Darien. When I sing, it's important to me, you know?" she asked, and he put down his guitar to move a bit closer to her. Her blue eyes watched him, seeming to tug at his very soul as he returned her gaze. Serena swallowed hard, their proximity a new and rather unnerving development indeed.
"You can tell that when you sing, it comes from deep within you. It's not just a hobby, right?" he guessed, and she nodded.
"My heart speaks through my voice. I don't do much in life, but when I sing, I'm happy," she told him, wondering why he was so easy to talk to.
"It's cool that you have something that makes you feel that way. For me, it's kind of the same," he said, nodding to his resting guitar.
"How long have you been playing?" Serena asked, fingering the strings of the shiny black instrument lightly.
"On and off, since I was thirteen," he replied, leading her to the next question nagging away at her.
"So how old are you now?" she wondered, absently twirling a lock of golden hair about her index finger as she awaited his response.
"Twenty two. What about you? Anyone ever get your age right?" he asked, and she shook her head 'no'.
"Nah. I'm turning eighteen soon. Everyone calls me ageless. Sometimes I'm a little girl to everyone. Well, all the time to Andrew. Then come the golden moments when I'm suddenly granted WAY too much attention. I don't know. Just cursed I guess," she said with a flourish. A smirk appeared upon his face, and she silently thought that he should smile more often.
"I can see why," he muttered.
"Pardon?" she asked, and he paled. He hadn't meant for her to actually hear his thoughts. He cursed himself for his carelessness. . . and cursed the way this girl so easily caused him to abandon his wits.
"Nothing important. Hey, you hungry?" he asked, smoothly changing the subject so as not to incriminate himself.
"Always. You buyin'?" she asked with mischievous eyes.
"No, I'm cooking. You like ramen?" he wondered, and she nodded with enthusiasm. She lived by herself, after all. The damn things were all she could afford half the time.
"Wow, you play like hell, your voice is awesome, you're easy on the eyes AND you cook? Hey, why don't we get married?" she asked, pleased by the forwardness she'd displayed and the way she was masking her own apprehension.
A dark brow rose, as the thought of having such a sweet, sexy wife danced through his nearly overwhelmed mind. The mental image of coming home to her in nothing but an apron had him grinning like a hyena.
"What was that? Easy on the eyes, huh?" he asked, leaning in closer to her. She could smell his spicy cologne and she wondered if he knew how seductive a picture he made. One look at him gave her the answer. He knew exactly how badly that look could devastate. And, gods was it effective.
"Well, it's not as if I'm the first to compliment you," she pointed out, and he smiled down at her genuinely.
"I should think that you'd be the one used to compliments, Serena. You match your voice," he said, getting up and leaving her gaping after him. She pondered his parting comment silently, her heart seeming to burn as the strangest of feelings swept through her. She watched him disappear into the kitchen, thinking that he was the most beautiful, mysterious and intriguing man she'd ever come across.
He wasn't afraid to be frank with her, and she admired that greatly. Guys that fell over themselves to be agreeable made her gag. Gods, could he ever look at her through different eyes? Eyes of a lover, even?
She flushed at her own thoughts, scolding herself inwardly for such insane musings. She'd not even know the man for two days, and yet she was prepared to fling herself upon him without reserve. And why? After the past few years of her existence, why would she dare to feel such things for a man?
Serena knew her limits, and knew them well. An unspoken rule existed to keep her from allowing anyone to get too close. For that led to trouble. Still, being in Darien's presence was different from anything she'd ever known. She actually felt comfortable with him, almost too comfortable.
She sat struggling with her own foreign emotions, trying to sort them into some semblance of order, wondering why she was acting so out of character. Andrew had seemed to pick up on it as well. She could see it in his eyes just before he and Chad had taken their leave.
But if anything, she knew that her cousin wouldn't have left her alone with Darien, should he have been unsure of it. Andrew loved her dearly, acting much like a second father to her. And he would never leave her in the hands of danger.
Darien emerged shortly carrying a bowl of noodles and handing it to her, disrupting her thought process entirely.
"Bon appétit," he offered, and she happily took it from him. They ate in silence, Darien secretly enjoying watching her slurp noodles up loudly. She was so unrefined and raw, gorgeous and alluring.
His thoughts trailed again to her tied up to his bed and he shook his head, trying to clear his depraved mind. This was going to be a very long night indeed. He suddenly wished that Andrew would haul his happy ass back soon so he'd be occupied enough to keep from ravaging his cousin where she sat. The longer he was near her, the more he thought, and he was none too thrilled with the directions in which she'd caused those thoughts to travel.
The man's past exploits had been with experts. . . women who knew what they wanted, how to get it and when it was time to move on. Sure, there were exceptions, some who'd refused to be denied. However, no one he'd ever experienced was quite like this girl, who seemed more angel than human as she sat concentrating on her food.
When they'd finished eating, she sat curled up on her end of the couch, a content grin upon her pretty face.
"Now I can die a happy girl," she mused, stretching her arms over her head and reminding him of some large, golden cat.
He was content to watch her for a time, locking the details of her into his mind: the way her dark lashes touched her cheeks as they fell across her closed eyes. The unique golden blonde hue of her impossibly long hair, the way it seemed to envelope her small body. Even her soft scent seemed to have engulfed him, as faint as it was. The softest whisper of flowers laced with morning dew.
The girl was like some intoxicating cloud, totally consuming his being as much as he tried to ignore it. She seemed to have no problem with making him a witless man, and yet from what he could tell, she had no idea of her devastating effect upon him, which was all the better in actuality. He couldn't allow her to read him that thoroughly, now could he?
But so enchanting was this little nymph, from the way she didn't break her neck trying to be lady like and dainty, to how intelligent and thoughtful her eyes seemed. Or how damn irresistible that wicked innocence truly was. Perhaps it was all these things combined that had him dead to rights when it came to her.
Darien was also quite puzzled by how protective he was feeling over her. The notion still burned within him to go beat the last breath out of her landlord for laying a cruel finger upon her. He had the feeling that if he'd done any more, he'd have flown off the handle like a raging beast in direct response.
Why was that, anyway? Was it just that nagging chivalrous instinct? No, something more, he thought, to drive him to feel so strongly. Something that only she could incite within him. The thought disturbed him, as Darien was a complete stranger to love on any respectable level. He'd never known love, and Serena was still oblivious as to why. Maybe he'd tell her about his past. After tomorrow.
Tomorrow would determine if she'd even stay with the band. Tomorrow, they'd play his song, and then he'd know how to sort things out. He'd written it from the depths of his very soul and no other female vocalist they'd encountered had been able to pull it off. The chemistry between writer and singer had never seemed to match. However, he felt that this time, with this beautiful creature, things would perhaps go a bit differently.
"You look so serious," she noticed, snapping him out of his stupor.
"Oh, sorry. Just thinking," he told her, catching her curiosity.
"About what? May I help?" she asked, moving to sit cross legged facing him.
He pondered her questions a moment, his mind still swimming with far too many abstract thoughts to count. Those cornflower eyes weren't doing much to help him articulate, either.
"There's this one song we have. No one, and I mean NO ONE has been able to pull it off yet," he said, rummaging through some papers on the table until he'd found what it was he'd been seeking. He handed her two sheets, one with lyrics, the other with music.
She read over them for a bit before looking up at him with crystal eyes.
"This is amazing," she said, looking into his soul again. She was getting very adept at that it seemed.
"Do you really like it?" he asked, wondering why he cared whether she approved of it or not. She nodded, holding the papers lightly in her small hands.
The lyrics were so personal, so moving. She wondered what had happened to this godlike man in the past, to inspire such words to flow from his soul. Judging from who he was now, he hadn't turned out so badly, despite whatever past hardships he'd had to face.
The girl wanted more than anything for him to open up to her, but she was abnormally patient when it came to such matters. She would wait until he wanted to reveal the secrets his heart held to her. After all. . . she was well aware of what it was like to keep secrets. Some things had a home only in shadow.
"You wrote it, didn't you?" she asked, handing the sheets back to him with care.
"Yeah. A couple of years ago actually. Like I said, we've always wanted to do it live, but none of the girls could get it right. But," he said, leaning so close their foreheads nearly touched, "I have faith in you," he finished softly, relishing in seeing her blue eyes go wide at their proximity.
It was a huge stroking of his ego that he could cause such a reaction in her. He imagined that she'd turned her share of heads before, nearly chuckling at the mental image of throngs of males gawking after her, being left speechless in her wake. But, she didn't seem to be the narcissistic type of girl that flung herself around just because she knew she could.
And the emotion he found swimming in her eyes was nearly disturbing. He'd never seen so many feelings floating around in one place. Andrew hadn't said much about her, other than that her parents were living in the countryside to the north and that she'd chosen to move to the city and chill out for a year before college began the following fall.
He'd also mentioned that she didn't keep many friends, but the ones she had were like sisters to her. And, Darien noted wryly, he'd failed to point out that she could easily pass for a goddess on Earth. He then realized with a blinding flash that she was all he could desire in feminine company, and it troubled him thinking that anyone could have such a pronounced hold on him as she already did after so short a time.
"Thanks. That really means a lot to me," she said, feeling her heart being set ablaze by his intense stare.
"It's true. You're too modest," he informed her truthfully, and he could've sworn that he saw her cheeks flush.
"Would you rather I walk around being full of myself, or what?" she asked, her eyes twinkling brightly.
"Nah. Don't change," he said, not believing that he was being so frank. Again with the blush. Was she becoming more attractive as the seconds ticked by or what?
"You know what, Darien? You look like you'd be an insensitive prick, but I'm pleasantly surprised," she said, his jaw dropping soon afterward.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment, though barely one," he mused, and she smiled that angelic smile of hers.
Things he wished to speak popped into his mind at a rapid fire rate, though an act of divine intervention kept the man from spilling forth his thoughts and incriminating himself in her presence.
'You're beautiful, sweet girl. Gods, I want to taste your sweet lips and touch you. Just let me touch you. I'll be gentle, I swear to you. Please, just let me hold you and breathe you in. Let me feel you next to me,' he pleaded inwardly, wishing he had the gumption to say any one of those things aloud.
The odd look upon his face confused her a bit, prompting her to question him once more.
"Are you ok?" she asked, reaching out to touch his hand. One would've thought she'd just slapped him cross eyed from the look that touched his face.
Her light touch sent flames shooting straight up his arm and directly into his stunned heart. Serena was convinced that she felt lightning surge through her as her fingers touched his skin, tiny sparks still firing long after the initial contact had been made. She gasped at the feeling, wondering why the hell he had such a profound effect upon her. They made an amusing sight, both with mouths hung open and eyes wide, regarding one another as if for the first time.
'What is. . . , ' Darien's mind wondered, '. . . this feeling?' Serena's finished for him. Though the two were yet in the dark, fate had a very wild ride in store for them.
"I. . . uh," he stammered, before the door crashed open and scared the living hells out of them both. Serena's hand jerked away quickly and he immediately wished to regain her warmth, silently cursing the interruption.
He turned to Andrew with annoyance evident on his face, and the sandy blond man stopped dead in his tracks. Was he seeing straight? Was his best friend sitting on the couch with his cousin, preparing to maul her? Oh, but no.
"Andrew, what a surprise," Darien said through nearly gritted teeth. Leave it to him to ruin a perfectly innocent moment of contentment for both parties.
"I'd say so. What WERE you doing, Darien?" Andrew asked, unable to hide the menacing tone lacing his voice. Obviously, the talk he'd been kept from having with his friend earlier would still have to take place.
And Darien. Darien was a budding rock star who went through girls as quickly as he went through guitar picks. Serena would most definitely not be one of them, Andrew resolved, his jaw clenching despite his efforts to remain in control of himself. Since her father wasn't here, he'd taken it upon himself to fill his shoes in every way possible. In order to get to Serena, one would have him to face, even if it was his best friend.
Serena, meanwhile, looked as if she wanted to render him unconscious upon the floor. This daddy act could get old very quickly, she thought, watching her cousin with unyielding eyes.
"We were just having a discussion, Andrew. Chill out," she advised, getting to her feet and walking towards her him. He eyed his friend warily, making Darien want to laugh outright. Yes, it seemed that Andrew had every right to be protective.
However, hurting Serena was not part of his itinerary. Andrew settled down a bit as she began rummaging through her suitcases for her pj's, leaving him to tend to his thoughts and face his friend, who sat calmly upon the old leather couch that took up way too much living space.
He turned then to Darien, whose gaze was fixed intently upon Serena as she continued to dig through her belongings.
"So, how'd that song go?" he prompted, snapping the ebony haired man out of his daze.
"Huh? Oh, fine. Tomorrow I know what we're playing," he said with finality.
"You don't mean…? Are you sure about that?" Andrew questioned. This could be harsh. He knew that he'd be unable to kick his cousin out of their unit if Darien didn't agree with the way she sang 'his' song.
"Yeah. I have this feeling," Darien told him, as Serena disappeared into the bathroom.
After a moment they heard water running and soon after her sweet voice floated out into their ears. Despite his friend's odd behavior, Darien's only non relevant thought was that she was naked in the next room. He had a feeling that if Andrew wasn't there, he'd be compelled take a peek.
"What kind of feeling? Darien, tell me something, would ya'?" Andrew wondered, taking a seat upon the couch as well. The man carefully regarded him, giving his full attention to his companion, who appeared none too thrilled at the time.
"Sure thing," he replied, curious as to what he was about to hear.
"Tell me what the fuck you're trying to do," he stated flatly, causing Darien to tilt his head to the side in confusion.
"What are you talking about? How much did you just drink?" he wondered, as he tried to stop the mass of thoughts racing through his mind.
"Cut the shit and be serious, Dare. I'm talking about Serena and you know it," he shot back, his irritation unchecked. Darien realized that Andrew was pretty fueled, though he was still unsure about what. He hadn't exactly been putting the moves on her. Not per say.
All he'd done was talk with her. Even that had proven to be hazardous to his health. Still yet, at the current rate, his libido would be nagging him for the remainder of the night.
"What about her? Why are you so pissed off?" he wondered, a defensive tone rising in his voice. The man was never one to enjoy being put on the spot, especially by the one who was supposed to be his closest confidant.
"I'm not blind. I've seen you trap enough girls to know that look you get in your eyes. And it's there. Oh, believe me, it's there. You don't have to say it for me to know. You don't understand what you're facing," Andrew told him, the venom slowly draining away. What good would it do at any rate, to berate him like a child? He'd known him long enough to know that doing so would only cause him to press on that much harder.
"What? Can't I talk to the girl without you thinking I'm after her?" he asked defensively.
"No, you can't. You know she's only seventeen, right?" he asked, using all the ammunition he had at his disposal.
"But she's turning eighteen soon," Darien added sarcastically.
"Don't be a wise ass. Not now. What else did she tell you?" Andrew demanded.
"Andrew, you need to relax. I'm not trying to hurt Serena. Don't worry. Shit, give me a little credit here, will ya'?" he asked with annoyance. Was he really so much of a dog that his best friend even judged him like this?
"Look, Darien. She's my cousin. There's a lot about her that you don't know. She's had a pretty rough time and you can't just play with her like you do the others. She's different," Andrew tried to explain.
"How do you mean? What happened to her?" he questioned, his interest peaked at the new revelation. Andrew looked pensive for a moment before answering.
"I'll leave it to her to tell you, if that's what she wants. It's really hard for her to bring up her past. Kind of like you," he noted. He noticed his friend's jaw, clenching as his words reached him.
The sounds of Serena's singing still hung in the air, and Darien's mind again wandered to thoughts of her. Those perfectly blue eyes, shadowed by something that he longed to discover. And Andrew's words had only served to make things more unnerving.
"So what do you want me to say? That I won't look her way or speak to her if we aren't practicing? You brought her to live here, for fuck's sake, and you expect me to ignore her?" he asked, cold fire burning steadily within the twin ocean orbs that were still locked onto his friend.
"That's not it. Look, I'm sorry to act like such a dick. But I love my cousin. She's family and I just want her to be happy. To be safe. She's on her own and she thinks she can take on anything. But in reality, even Sere needs a little help from time to time. You have to realize that you just can't treat her like some random chick," Andrew pointed out with earnest, hoping he'd said even one thing to get through to him.
"Listen, man. I'm not going to hurt her, ok? It's like you said. She's different," he agreed, and Andrew nodded.
"Remember what it is that you just said. I can't let anyone take advantage of her. I'm all she's got in this city. So don't go back on your word," Andrew told him.
"Don't worry. I don't know. . . she gets to me somehow. I want to know what drives her, Andrew. You know you can trust me," he said genuinely.
Andrew sighed mightily, seeing the sincerity in his comrade's eyes. He'd spoken the words, now it was in Darien's hands. He could only hope that he wouldn't let him down.
"Yeah. Tread lightly," he recommended, before retiring to his room for the night, leaving his friend with his own plethora of jumbled emotions to deal with alone.
Darien was fine for a bit, lost in his own thoughts and attempting to allow everything Andrew had spoken of to set in, until Serena emerged from the bathroom with her long, damp hair down around her.
Gracing her petite form was a pink camisole and a matching pair of shorts that seemed to be viciously mocking him. He hadn't been aware that legs could get that long as his eyes ran from her the top of her head to her feet and back to her blue eyes, which were gazing at him with intent. What the hell? Was she doing this on purpose?
"Hey. Did Drew go to bed already?" she asked, and he could only manage to nod in response. His brain wasn't exactly functional at the moment, and he had the feeling that it was directly related to the sight of the pink clad seraph before him.
"He's such an old man," she told him, giving him a wink before resuming her place on the couch that would serve as her bed for the duration of her stay.
She sat there so innocently, her legs drawn up beneath her as she stretched over to grab the remote from its perch upon the nearby coffee table. As she did so, her camisole dipped dangerously low, revealing the top of the perfect swell of a breast to Darien's vision.
She seemed not to notice, resuming her position as she clicked the television on, beginning to surf through random channels before landing upon the all rock station. Serena wondered why the hell Darien was being so quiet, turning just to see the man swallow hard, an odd look upon his face.
The said man blinked a couple of times, saying not a single word before rising to his feet, throwing himself into the bathroom with an exaggerated slam of the door, leaving Serena flustered and wondering why guys always acted so strangely.
Of all the things he could have imagined himself experiencing, none amounted to standing in his own shower, surrounded by the sight of what seemed to be dozens of bottles of sweet smelling body wash, shampoo and various other feminine necessities, the varying colors like a rainbow to his sight.
Was this happening? Had their poor apartment been taken over by the same girl that was steadily managing to wrap him about her pretty little pinky?
Madness struck without warning, though it didn't exactly surprise him. Darien found himself slowly adjusting to the way that his world had suddenly morphed into one large episode of the Twilight Zone.
His fingers reached out, wrapping around the nearest bottle of shampoo, the contents tinted a light purple. Directly afterward, he'd brought the open bottle to his nose, taking in the scent that was purely hers.
"I'm fucking gone," he groaned aloud, shaking his head as he snapped the bottle shut, placing it back on the shelf amongst her other possessions. Gods above, this was surreal.
"Damn. How is it that you control me so well?" he muttered to himself, as steady streams of cold water pelted him from above.
"Fuck," he griped, leaning his forehead against the wall in frustration. He saw her smiling face, imagined the precious curves of her body under his hands, and saw those eyes looking directly through him, hiding the secrets that had him puzzled at that very moment.
Her eyes positively killed him. It was all he could do to keep from liquefying whenever she looked at him. How could anyone think he'd ever hurt her? All he wanted was to be given the chance to hold her close, and become totally engrossed in those innocent yet wise eyes. Everything else was inconsequential at that point. He was totally mesmerized by her, and there was no damn way around the fact. Turning the water off, he stepped out of the shower, shaking the water from his dripping ebony hair before taking a moment to gaze at himself in the bathroom mirror.
A grown man, one life scarred and far from the realm of naivety, stared back at him, and he wiped a hand across the reflective glass absently. He hadn't noticed, over the course of the past several years, exactly when he'd actually become a man. It seemed, however, that he'd always been just that, for childhood had always readily evaded him. Never had he had the luxury of being young, naïve and oblivious to the ways of the world. No, those had been shown early on, too early most had pointed out.
But what use was there in dwelling on unchangeable circumstances? It had now passed, and so at last he should forget. Sometimes, though, things weren't so simple. Besides. . . there were other matters that needed his attention at the moment. Such as the presence of the puzzle in human form that was perched upon the couch just outside.
So, he tossed all apprehension and worry aside, stepping back out into the living room, clad in a pair of faded, ripped to hell jeans as he padded across the floor. To his surprise, he found her asleep, the room dark as he maneuvered around various pieces of furniture, attempting to reach his bedroom without injury.
On the way past the couch, however, he was suddenly struck dumb by the sight of her, sprawled out across the cushions on her stomach, her hands curled delicately beneath her chin as she slept.
Such a beautiful creature. . . perhaps more so in sleep than during the daylight hours if at all possible. Reason played no part as he carefully made his way over to where she lay, dropping to his knees in the darkness, his eyes adjusting quickly to allow the guilty pleasure of the sight of her before him.
His hand, working of his own accord, reached out, brushing a rogue strand of hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. Finding himself unsatisfied with such a small action, his fingers then trailed softly down her jaw, sweeping next across her shoulder and down her arm, feeling the impossible softness of her skin beneath them. So warm, like life personified in this peacefully sleeping angel, who at the time was effectively stealing his very breath away without even being aware of the fact.
Hoping silently that she was a heavy sleeper, the man dared to lean forward, the urge unable to be resisted, his lips pressing gently against her forehead in an act that shocked him to the very core. The tenderness he had shown had never presented itself before in his entire existence. And he knew that it never would again. . . not unless this girl was involved.
Before he lost control of himself entirely, he stood, turning away from the beauty that he knew was beyond compare in this ruthless world. Sleep beckoned him to lose himself in its depths, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that this would be one of the more lonely nights he'd had in a while, as he walked through his bedroom door.
~*~*~*~
Serena lay wide awake on the couch, having been awakened by the sound of a door shutting as Darien finally made it to his own room. The ebony haired guitar god was slowly tearing down her every meticulously erected wall of defense, leaving her poor mind totally blown and in need of much emergency repair. Had she been aware of the events that had taken place only moments before, she would've thought them to be nothing but a painfully genuine dream.
The man had some sort of wicked hold on her that she couldn't seem to shake. His velvety voice echoed through her soul, and his touch was positively Earth shattering, making her question herself entirely.
Ever since her experience two years ago, she hadn't taken kindly to being touched. But Darien was different somehow. With him, she wasn't afraid or intimidated. His touch was gentle, kind and warm. Nothing at all like she'd expected it to be. He'd thrown her for a complete loop and it was perplexing her deeply, leaving her with no defense it seemed.
And Andrew. Something was bothering him as well. She could tell by his countenance earlier that something vexing was on his mind. She'd contemplated going to talk with him, but it could wait. He was probably tired at any rate.
Serena turned to lie flat upon her back, gazing up at the ceiling as she sighed deeply. So many questions and no answers to satisfy their hunger. It killed her to be so clueless about things. The lyrics he'd shown her reflected a painful memory, and she wanted to know what. Perhaps, she thought, they could share their pain with one another and get past it somehow.
Tomorrow, she realized, was her chance to impress, to show him what she was truly made of. And she would stop at nothing to do just that. The girl noticed a certain tingling upon her skin, like whispers of wind dancing here and there along its surface. She ignored it however, feeling sleep tugging again at her eyelids. With time, she drifted off into a tortured slumber, feeling a pair of sapphire eyes staring through her throughout the night.
Darien lay similarly awake, wishing cheekily that a certain blond in the next room would take it upon herself to sneak into his room and crawl into his bed. He closed his eyes at the thought, imagining how wonderful it would be to have her sleeping in his arms, where the rest of the world couldn't dare to reach her.
His king size mattress had never seemed so barren, so cold and massive. How beautiful she would be, curled up upon his raven's wing sheets, that hair spun of sunlight spilling all about her form.
His body responded in full force to his wicked thoughts, and he at last allowed them to rest, knowing that he would never get any respite otherwise. He most definitely required sleep tonight if they were to get through the following day intact.
Darien hoped to every god in existence that she would perform his beloved song as well as she had the others. But indeed, he did have faith in her abilities. She was capable of great things, that anyone could recognize.
Andrew's words still nearly choked him, though he tried not to dwell too much upon anything he'd said. Concern was to be expected. After all, he'd been no angel. He'd made no claim to such a thing. However, he knew that he would never allow anyone to harm her, himself included, whether Andrew approved or not.
He resolved then to act as normally as possible around her, until he could sort out his own plethora of feelings for the silver voiced beauty sleeping just in the next room. Though these feelings were foreign, he could not help but to be purely fascinated by them as they swam throughout his body. His thoughts ultimately led him to a dark slumber, where he dreamt of his heavens' sent goddess throughout the night.
~*~*~*~
That's Chapter 2 for ya'! Was this one easier on the eyes than the last? Tell me what you think! Drop a review and unleash your beautiful opinions! I love em' all, I promise! What could those shady kids be hiding, anyway? Hmmm. . . Ja Ne!
*Cosmic Moon Baby*