- The Dandelion and Burdock Girl -
"You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock"
-18th December 2011-
I watched myself, as If I was nowhere, but everywhere all at the same time. I was running down some stairs in an unfamiliar house, the white walls swirled around me as if they were turning into mist. Picture frames dotted the walls. I was crying, sobbing. "What have you done. You promised me. You promised..."
I watched as I stumbled to the bottom of the stairs, and collapsed on the ground in a heap, weeping. "Please don't. Please don't leave me. Just please, not now...not ever...please" The hall morphed into a green field, grass waved lazily around my still huddled figure. The sunlight shone from an invisible sun. A single point aerial hoop swung softly from a small Oak . A faceless woman with long blonde hair balanced on it, her back to the curve of the hoop. Standing underneath her was a faceless Man, face turned upwards to the Woman. As if by unspoken words, they moved towards each other, lips slow and sure as they met. Hands tangled in hair as each pulled each body towards them. The aerial hoop shook and swung, the Woman jerked struggling to regain her balance. They seemed to fight, the Man pulling the Woman down to the earth, the Woman pulling the Man up to the sky. The more they fought to be close to each other, the more the Woman swung, and the more the Man stumbled on the ground. They were unbalanced. I watched in horror as the lovers struggled, a whisper swirled in the breeze tickling my ear. "She is His, and He is Hers and yet they struggle to be as One, to be One Whole. And so they shall, until each is ready to relinquish what they know and step into each other's Worlds." I trembled as the voice slipped away. The Lovers had now separated. Both were bent, shoulders hunched, hands still grasping for each other. And then to my despair, the Woman seemed to drift upwards towards the gaping Sky, while the Man was slowly being swallowed up by the Earth. "They are unbalanced, and so shall disappear into their Worlds..." I shivered once more, tears slid down my face.
When I awoke, only the feeling remained.
_/\_/\/\_
Her head was tucked into my chest, the smell of musk and lavender overwhelming my senses...
Her arm was thrown over my waist, legs intertwined with mine, like ivy we were entangled, like a moth she was drawn to a flame...
I awoke to the cold winter sunlight streaming through the cracks in unfamiliar powder blue curtains. Dust motes drifted lazily. I was swamped in the middle of a white cloud, a feather duvet was wound around my body, my face buried in soft pillows. Body completely relaxed, I was unbelievably hot. Kicking the duvet off me and sitting up, I scanned the room and my memory for some clues as to how I got here. On the wooden chair that stood next to a white dressing table, a flower patterned dress lay across it's back, black tights hanging limply from the seat. A woman's bedroom. Shit. And then I remembered. The Dandelion and Burdock Girl, Rhea. The dark blonde hair curling around a face that was studded by a winking blue nose ring. Sparkling blues eyes that said so much more than her mouth. Oh yes, I remembered her now.
Standing up, swaying slightly, I looked around for my clothes, as I realised that I was in nothing but some flimsy pajama trousers, my chest bare. Finding my t-shirt and jeans neatly folded on the bedside table, I quickly stripped and donned them, my body rapidly cooling. After I had finished I became aware of the steady beat of a bass and singing coming from downstairs. Opening the door, I noticed that it was covered in many pieces of random quotes, pictures and drawings. Studying one particular quote closely, I realised that I recognised it. It was my own words after all. 'Perhaps Fuck off might be too kind' was scrawled across a dirty white card and pinned at a jaunty angle on the center of the door. I remembered writing that lyric well. It had come from a time I would much rather forget, hence the fact that we no longer played it at shows. If only people would understand that songs are memories for me, and some of them I do not want to replay night after night. Shrugging off the feeling of impending doom, I made my way out on to the landing, plush cream carpet warming my feet.
As I made my way down the stairs, the smell of toast and coffee wafted towards me, along with the steady beat of what I recognised as You Know I'm No Good, Amy Whinehouse. And oh god, did that bring back memories. An embarrassing noise from my stomach brought me back to the present, as I stepped off the last step of the stairs. I glanced out of the window in the door at an unfamiliar street. A black Porche drove past. Fancy.
Heading towards, what I remembered to be the kitchen door, I pushed it open to see something I did not expect to see on a Sunday morning, or anytime really. Before me on the narrow corner of a counter, stood a woman with what seemed to be an extremely short dress on, her bright purple clad legs seemed endless as my gaze ran down to her pointed feet. I might add that, on my inspection of Rhea, I noticed that her dress-thing was actually very short, barely covering her bum. I quickly looked down and cleared my throat.
A small shriek came from her as she jumped and dropped whatever she had been getting from the cupboard that was situated high up on the wall. With a loud clang, a can of Baked Beans bounced onto the wooden floor at my feet. Incredibly, it didn't burst.
"Alex! Jesus Christ! Don't ever do that!" Came the indignant voice from above me. Looking up I saw Rhea, flattened up against the wall, still on the counter, hands on her chest, breathing hard.
"Alex, I could have fallen off and died. Not to be too dramatic or anything." She scowled down at me. Crouching down, and swinging herself of the counter she slided past me, to the table, sat down and cradled a steaming cup in her hands.
"Urm, sorry 'bout that. I didn't think." I said, running a hand through what I guessed to be extremely disheveled hair.
"Clearly" Came the disgruntled reply. Taking a shaky gulp of whatever she was drinking, she stood up again. Her back was to the French windows, the sun eliminating her silhouette. Unlike last night when we met, her shoulder length blonde hair fell down on to her shoulders, stray wisps curled around her face. Alex, get a grip. I mentally shook myself.
"Anyway, how did you sleep, and do you want anything to eat?" She said, a smile lighting up her once distressed features.
I put my hand to the counter, leaning on it. "Forgiven me already 'ave we?" A smirk made its way onto my face.
She laughed without opening her mouth. It was an evil laugh. "Oh no, I haven't, I will get you back, don't you worry sweetheart." She crossed her arms across her chest, smirking back. I was liking her more and more.
"We'll see." I wasn't someone who was prone to be jumpy, however I decided to humor her. Plus, I was rather hungry now. I crossed my arms in imitation of her. She rolled her eyes, lips twitching.
"So to answer your questions, yes, from what I can remember, I had one of the best night sleeps I 'ave had in a long time. I don't sleep well you see. At all..." I trailed off, my mind going back to the endless nights of insomnia, the worrying sense of being very much alone in the world.
"And? Do you want something to eat?" Her voice was soft, seeming to have sensed my sudden melancholy. Feeling shy I nodded.
_/\_/\/\_
When I had woken up to Alex twinned around me like ivy I had, had the heart wrenching feeling to never let him go. As if any minute now he was going to be swallowed up and I would never again hold his body close to mine. I was surprised at these feelings as they did not seem to belong to me. They belonged to someone who was older, and more world weary. They belonged to someone who was afraid. I had pushed these peculiar thoughts from my head and gazed down at him, in my arms. Ever since his break up with Alexa and his sudden change, ie his hairstyle last month, Alex had seemed to turn into a harder and more 'manly' version of himself. All leather jackets, fags and moody expressions. Gone was the cute wispy hair that had framed his face and made him look 5 years younger than his actual age. In it's place was an Elvis Presley, better known as a quiff. Slick, hard, smooth and to the point, just like the image he seemed to be trying to obtain. However, seeing him like this, face buried in my chest, arm thrown across my body, legs tangled with mine, I remembered that he was still just a man. Still just a man who needed to be held, loved and indulged. I had smiled at this thought, coming to the conclusion that I was just the woman for him. Or at least for the man I had in my head, for all I knew Alex could be someone completely different. But then again, a niggling part of me knew that there was a lot more to this rock and roll dude than met the eye, and I was happy to find out as much as I could.
I had decided to go down and start on some breakfast. However as I was dressing in the bathroom, not wanting Alex to wake up to me half naked, a sudden thought flashed into my mind. Did anybody know where Alex was? I knew that the Arctic Monkeys were in London for a while as they had a few shows here, and I knew that the rest of the band were here too, as a photo had popped up on my Tumblr dashboard of them walking the streets yesterday. If they were the mates they seemed to be, they would be worried and unless Alex had informed them he would be sleeping over at some random woman's house, they couldn't have known. And yet, he still could have sent a text when he was with me, except I was with him almost the whole time until bedtime. I decided I needed to check. First of all I ran down stairs, to where he had left his wonderfully soft jacket, over the back of the hall chair. Finding nothing I decided to check back upstairs, in his jeans.
I tip toed back into the bedroom, cringing when the door made a minute squeak. Alex lay immersed in white duvet, head barely visible, a fond smile played on my lips. It was an image I could definitely get used to. I hadn't had a man in my bed for a long time. Not since...well, just not for a long time. Bringing myself back to the present, I made my way to the bedside table where he had folded his jeans on top of his t-shirt last night. Picking them up and rejecting the seriously creepy urge to hold them to my face, I felt in the pockets. Aha! There! I pulled out a rather smart black Iphone. Pressing the on button, the lock-screen came up of a freaking sunset. See, told you he wasn't as hard as he made out to be, the dude had a sunset lock screen for gods sake! I quickly got over my surprise and to my delight I found that Alex did not seem to have a lock on his phone. Pushing aside the urge to snoop at the contents of his phone, I pressed straight on the message icon, which had a little number '3' by it. 'Agile Beast' was at the top of the message list, closely followed by 'Mum'. Aw. Pressing on 'Agile Beast' I scanned the last few messages.
Agile Beast 'still wanna catch up on breaking bad with me? 8:21pm
Agile Beast 'what time you getting back?' 9:32pm
Agile Beast 'hey man where are you?' 11:43pm
And that was the end. Nothing about staying over at mine. We were more alike that I had previously thought. I was terrible at replying to messages, many a time it got me into a lot of trouble.
Stealing a quick glance at the still submerged Alex, I quickly wrote down Matt's number on my hand, with the pen that was on my dressing table, I would text him from my own phone. I replaced Alex's mobile in his jeans.
When I got down stairs I had grabbed my phone from where I had left it in my jacket last night and swiftly walked back into the kitchen, softly closing the door behind me. I had sat down in the armchair that Alex had seemed so at home in last night.
And now it was time to work on how to text the Agile Beast himself, and try to stop him from calling the police about some woman abducting Alex. Going to new messages on my phone, I tapped in Matt's number. Now, what to say...
'Hey Matt, urm so I just want to say that I have not got your number by kidnapping Al'
I deleted it all and started again.
'Hi Matt, so before I start I would just like to say that'
Again, I deleted it all. Right, just get to the point Rhea, I reminded myself. I started again.
'Hey Matt, I'm texting 2 say that Al is at my house, I got ur number from his phone. Im not a stalker, promise :p Im just aware that if one of my mates went missing without telling me, I would wanna know what had happened. He's fine, currently asleep. I think. Anyway thought you ought to know, Rhea x'
Before I could change my mind again I hit 'send' and 'woosh' off it went. Letting out a big breath, I lent back and rested my head against the back of the chair. I had a terrible feeling I may have just made a mistake. I desperately needed a cuppa. Getting up I drifted towards the kettle. After I had flicked the switch on the kettle, a low rumble filled the air. I reached up to get a mug out of the cupboard above it, muscles stretched and contracted, making a small groan spill from my mouth. I was so stiff and sore. They say your body gets used to a certain amount of pain if you keep doing the same exercises. Well, they lied. Or else my body was just different to everybody elses in the entire world. A soft ding cut through the room and my charged body. I turned slowly towards my phone on the counter, ignoring the now boiling kettle. Scooping it up, 'Matt AM 1 Message' lit up the screen. I unlocked it and tapped on messages. Stealing a glance, I read his text.
Matt AM "hi i am glad to hear hes alright, he gave me the slip yesterday wanker -_- i'll get him for it. im sure you're not a stalker :D i do have trust in the human race, thks for letting me know ;) nice name by the way. you welsh by any chance? :)"
I breathed out a shaky breath, now just to wait and see if he really believed I hadn't kidnapped Al, and wasn't actually calling the police right this second.
I copied his casual attitude, as I texted back.
"Cool, yeah i'll let him know. And yes, I am Welsh, and proud! :)"
'woosh'. Gone. Now that was sorted, breakfast awaited my starving body. What to have, that was the real question. Fry up. It was just what I needed, no doubt about it.
I turned on the radio, poured my tea to brew and set about making breakfast. As I did so the memory that Al was upstairs slowly slipped away with time, until I had all forgotten he even excited, a rare occurrence I assure you. I now stood, on my tip toes on the side, humming to Amy Whinehouse, and rummaging through the highest cupboard for a can of Baked Beans. And then there was a strange noise from beneath me, I jumped, the Baked Beans falling from my hands, to bounce on the floor with a loud bang. I turned, back to the wall, hands clutched to my pounding chest.
And there he was. Alex Fucking Turner. Looking like he had just been thoroughly fucked. Or maybe just had a good nights sleep. Either way, the way his dark brown hair was spilling into his eyes, made me weak at the knees. Pushing away these scary feelings, my indignation burst forward. I finished with a very mature "...Alex, I could have fallen off and died. Not to be too dramatic or anything."
I almost felt guilty for shouting at him as he starred with his liquid brown orbs. Almost. I crouched down, longing for the solid floor beneath my feet. And to look somewhere else and not at this sex god. I sidled past him to the table, and took a shaky gulp, barely looking up when he said 'He didn't think'. I gave the reply it deserved. After my tea had settled in my stomach, and my manners slowly came back I stood up. He stared and then blinked. Shit I didn't have something on my face did I? He probably wouldn't tell me if I did. I smiled and proceeded to ask him how his night was and if he wanted anything to eat. His reply was fine, confident and smirky, and then seemed to sadden as his sentence went on. I just wanted to hold him at that moment, but decided against it.
Hope you all liked it (so far) don't forget to let me know what you think!
