A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long for me to post. It was Christmas and stuff so I hope you all can understand and that if you celebrate the holiday that you had a good Christmas! So, if you follow me on tumblr you probably know I left the Degrassi fandom and that I don't like Degrassi anymore and that I'm not watching or anything but just to make it clear to everyone this does not mean i'm going to stop writing fanfiction mostly because a. for some reason i can only write eclare, b. I usually only write AU so I mean, it's understandable that I really only like things that differ from the show and like no offense the show has gone reeeally downhill lately and to the point where I can't bare to watch it anymore lol. But I'm going to keep writing, so don't worry! Anyway, back to things about this chapter. I don't like it very much except for the ending. I love the ending it's so sad squee. Is it bad that I don't like any of my chapters except for like a certain few like the third and fifth oops. I'd really like all of your reviews on this chapter if it's okay? I really hope I'm not losing my motivation for this fic/writing because of my lack of interest in Degrassi anymore. If it feels like I'm losing my touch in this chapter, I was stricken with writers block this week and I sincerely apologize. OKAY ENOUGH OF MY BANTER GO AHEAD AND READ.

Rating: As always, smuttastic. Lol let's be real are any of my chapters/fics not smutty.

Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi just Imogen's bedroom wall with the Doctor Who quote on it. Also do not own the band The Neighbourhood. Just a really great local band you should all listen to.


"Christen them with paraffin. Sterilize Samaritans. Contravene loyal ties. Migrate them through the pesticide. They'll strip you of your heritage" Wrath of God | Crystal Castles

There were most days when Eli Goldsworthy would not speak to me in person. It was mostly after school on Wednesday's or Thursday's. He wasn't ignoring me, or anything of those sorts. He would often send me text messages that were devastatingly lovely that said something along the lines of: beautiful girl, my heart longs to see your shining face! but alas, I am kept hostage by your father who is greedily hogging you all to himself. how will my heart ever go on? It was mostly in such a romantic tone because he was going on recently about his new love for Shakespeare. He made me watch the Stanley Tucci version of Midsummers Night's Dream, and don't even get me started on Romeo and Juliet. Eli Goldsworthy could ring me into whatever he so wanted from me.

The most dreadful thing though, was after the incident with my father, Randall was undeniably keen on keeping me away from Eli Goldsworthy. And though the slightest idea of him skipping summer school again seemed like such a fantastic idea, my father suspected it, mostly. So we stole the weekends and went miles and miles away only to return and be sucked back into a 'family oriented' week with my father. I snuck out as much as it seemed possible, but the window outside of my bedroom was so high up it proved difficult for me to get down without scraping me knees a few times. But Eli said my bruises were sexy. Good, I was leaving for him and he had better find my bruises attractive.

I don't think it would be humanly possible for me to forget the horrified look on my fathers face when he walked in and saw him and I entangled with each other and myself near naked. If he had even half known what had gone on, I'm sure he would have had my head on a silver platter. I still have his annoying lecture replaying over and over in my head. How he was disappointed in me for not saving my virginity until marriage, and how the house smelled like cigarettes, which, offended him apparently. He told me that I was never allowed to speak to Eli again (which I laughed at) and that if he caught me smoking, or that if the living room smelled like it, he would send me right back to Canada and tell Helen everything he knew or saw. That was the only thing slightly frightening me. Because for some reason I didn't want to be separated from Eli.

I shimmied into a pair of bleached shorts and took a look in the skinny mirror on the bedroom door. I looked different. Not like Canadian Clare. I was completely rearranged. Eli told me once that I looked as if I was born and bred California now, and the only thing stopping me from being totally Californian was the fact that I still pronounced sorry like 'soar-y.' Maybe it was the new sex appeal I had that changed me to a 'Cali-Girl', because instead of being Clare Edwards, the French teachers daughter, I was Clare Diana, Eli Goldsworthy's little minx. I didn't even think that the Fantastic Four even realized that I was the daughter of Randall Edwards. That was probably a good thing, anyways. My phone buzzed on my dresser table, Eli's number and name lighting up like a Christmas tree. He was calling to see if I was ready to go. I puckered my red lipstick stained lips in the mirror and grinned to myself.

"You better help me down from the window."

I hung up my cell phone and threw it into my handbag, and stared out the window down at the trash cans, and Eli Goldsworthy's grinning face looking up at me, and waving for me to come down. I nodded, and turned to my bed to make sure everything was in order. It seemed to be rare that my father would come to check on me. Mostly because I locked my bedroom door before I would sneak out, and I would take the precautionary television show method of shoving pillows underneath my blankets to make it seem as if I was sleeping. I pulled open the window and threw Eli my handbag, which he caught – as always, except for the first time when it fell in the trash and he stole me a brand-new-used one from a thrift store on Main Street – and I slowly climbed out. This was my least favourite part. The climbing out the window part because as much as I knew Eli was going to help me, it proved to be difficult, and sometimes I noticed that instead of Eli paying attention, he was mostly just staring at my ass.

His strong hands wrapped around my waist as I slid out of the window, and he helped me down to stand on the recycling bin of the trash can, and our lips met for a little bit of a hello kiss. We always kissed each other to say hello. The two of us helped each other down from the trashcans, and for a second I almost took off running in the direction of the front yard to go hop into Morty and drive to wherever Eli would be taking us, but he grabbed me by the wrist, and shook his head at me.

"You and I are going to get so drunk tonight; neither of us will be able to drive home."

Our hands slipped into each other's, and Eli dragged me in the direction through my backyard, and over the small fence in which he had climbed over to get there in the first place. He was gentle with me, making sure that not one piece of me would be injured in the expedition. He always held my waist with care, and never ever did I ever find myself having to ask him to be more careful with me. That was even more applied during sex. Because even though it was fairly obvious, Eli Goldsworthy was a sex-god. A to die for sex-god.

"Where are we going?" I whispered as we pushed through a neighbour's backyard to get to the street behind my row of houses. Eli squeezed my hand softly and dipped his head a little.

"Imogen is having a party, and The Neighbourhood is playing a house show there."

"That's the Sweater Weather band, right?" I asked, and Eli nodded his head in response. I could recall their slow beat, and how during late night make out sessions in the back of Morty in the dark, Eli would have them playing to set the mood just right. And it did set the mood just right. "Good. I like that band." I added, and Eli turned his head back to smile at me, and that's when we had reached the sidewalk. Eli had pointed out Imogen's house before, and luckily, she wasn't one of those Pierpont girls. Not because Eli always referred to girls like those as rich snobs, but because it would be easier for us to find our way home, drunk, in the dark since she lived only a few streets over. In fact, Eli never referred to Imogen as a rich snob, mostly just her girlfriend Fiona. He never said anything about it, but I believed it, or had come up with some fantasy that Eli and Imogen had dated and he had been totally in love with her, but she left him for Fiona, and that's why he was so desperate to keep me stuck on him and to never look at girls in that sort of way. I always shrugged it off, but I still liked to come up with my own backstory for Eli since he would never tell it to me himself.

"Did I mention how fucking hot you look tonight?" Eli asked me, and I shook my head proudly. "Well, Clare Diana…" his hand slid around my waist, and his face was gravitating close to mine at a fast rate. "You look so fucking –" but Eli was cut off by the sound of a bass strumming loudly in the distance. He pulled slightly away, and turned his head to see the lights of a house shining brightly all the way down the street. "Fuck, they're starting." A grin slipped onto his lips, and he quickly removed his hand from my waist and placed it into my own. "C'mon."

We took off down the street, and for the moment I was glad I had worn my converse instead of wearing small heels like I had suspected. I wanted to look sexy for Eli. I thought heels might work, but at this moment I was glad that I had changed my mind last-minute. There was a minimal crowd surrounding Imogen's house as people began to pack in and find good spots to watch the show. Eli pushed and shoved, trying to get the two of us to the front as the singer began to introduce his band, and say the name of their first song. People cheered, Eli cheered, and as their first song began, Eli pulled me close to him and the kissing began.

I was brought back to memories of the first night at the rave, with the two of us dancing on each other and his fingers in my hair, and the kissing, and the sex and the entire night. I could recall all the feelings I had, the way the drugs had affected my body. My hands met at the base of Eli's neck as I pulled him close to me, our bodies bouncing off of each other's and our lips fighting each other for dominance. I won. Eli always let me win. I'd pounce back at him, running my fingers through his hair and creating tangles in the shaggy black locks. The music added the perfect touch to the moment, making our hips sway back and forth to the tune of that Sweater Weather song that Eli loved so much. I pulled way suddenly, and my lips found their place beside Eli's ear, and I purred into it softly:

"I thought you said we were going to get drunk tonight."

Eli had this look in his eyes that told me exactly what I wanted. They were shimmering in the light provided and he licked his lips promptly. I could feel his hand that was wrapped around my waist dragging me out of the crowd, and towards Imogen's kitchen. I had no idea that a girl who seemed so innocent like I had could have so much alcohol in her home. Then again, anyone could have thought the same thing about me, and because of my little fantasies I suspected that Eli had changed Imogen into this partying, vodka drinking girl. And whether I was allowed to be jealous or not, I wasn't sure. It didn't particularly matter though, because Imogen Moreno was a lesbian, and all I wanted was Eli Goldsworthy.

The kitchen counter was lined with as many different types of alcohol as you could imagine. Eli took my hand, and lead us to two chairs that sat against the island of Imogen's kitchen, right in front of all the alcohol and as many shot glasses lined up. I took a few seconds to wonder where on earth Imogen's parents must have been, but the thought as rushed out of my mind in a matter of seconds when Eli Goldsworthy said to me:

"Let's play a drinking game."

I nodded immediately. "What kind of drinking game?"

"It's called Buzz." Eli answered, and I sat up straight in order to express my intrigue towards the name. Eli smirked lightly, and began with the instructions. "So you and I are going to count back and forth, until reaching seven, which is replaced with you or me saying the word buzz. So on each multiple of seven, you're going to replace the number with the word buzz, and each mistake costs you one drink. So basically by the time the game is over we're both totally –"

"Buzzed. I get it." I answered as Eli reached for the shot glasses and a bottle of what appeared to be half full and clear as water. He poured both of us a shot, and then it all began.

"One." He started.

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six."

"Buzz."

I bit my lip and choked out the word: "Eight."

"Nine."

"Ten."

"Eleven."

"Twelve."

"Thirteen."

"Fourteen."

Eli clapped his hands, and I groaned both out loud and subconsciously at my stupidity. I choked back to drink the bitter-tasting alcohol as Eli poured me a second shot. It began again. Constantly I would find myself screwing up, slurring the words and barely even getting past twenty-eight before Eli Goldsworthy took four shots just to catch up with me. I guess he felt bad. But by the time we had decided to end the game, we were both clearly drunk out of our minds. He kissed me on the bar stool, trying so desperately to get hand-sy with me from a few feet away. But I shook my head, reached for the bottle and said to him:

"Eli… Goldsworthy. I am…so not drunk enough." I was slurring my words, and Eli was laughing, and people were staring and admiring the two of us laughing, and grinning, and enjoying ourselves. Even with my head spinning, and my vision becoming blurry it was clear to see how drop dead sexy Eli Goldsworthy was. We continued to drink from our bottle, each of us getting more and more plastered. Each of us unable to find a care in the world.

"Let's do something." Eli said out of the blue. His pupils were dilated and excited. I nodded my head in agreement, as he took both of my hands in his and bit down on his bottom lip. "We could go fuck somewhere." he offered, and I nodded again.

"Where?" I asked and Eli shrugged in response.

"Imogen's room. She'll never know. She's as plastered as we are right now." Eli flashed me a toothy grin, and dragged me, stumbling up a staircase and into a bedroom with multi-coloured Christmas lights and band posters everywhere. And written on the wall in black paint, I could barely read the words: People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big bowl of wibbly wobbly timey wimey... stuff.

"You're sure she won't notice?" I slurred, and Eli nodded his head, slamming me up against the door he had closed, and ripping the shirt right off of my body. "Eli…" I breathed as his teeth preyed upon my neck, causing me to gasp at the sudden sensation. I loved this feeling. And then suddenly, Eli pulled away from me, and shuffled through his back pocket for a moment. "What?" I whimpered, already beginning to feel needy as I noticed Eli whipping out his cell phone and pressing a few buttons.

"I need a picture of you to look at during classes, when I'm totally bored and miss your beautiful face." Eli answered, holding his cell phone up to take a picture of my face. I stuck my tongue out in response.

"You just want pictures so that you can get off to the thought of me at night." I replied sardonically, and Eli snorted, shrugging his shoulders in response.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Now shut up, and let me take pictures of you."

I grinned, and pushed my hair back, and in a drunken matter tried to make myself look sexy for the pictures I knew Eli was taking. He rolled his eyes at me and laughed and told me constantly with a slurred tone how adorable I was to him. I could hear the little clicking sound his cell phone would make every time a photo would be taken, and it would cause me to laugh hysterically each time. And then we took pictures together. I tore away his black shirt, and the two of us took pictures together on Imogen's bed. Funny faces, serious faces, smiles, my drunk version of a sexy face. I wanted to remember something in the morning, and these photos would help put back the bits and pieces of the missing night I'd be having.

"Clare Diana," Eli said, and I nodded, sitting up straight as Eli did the same, pointing his cell phone in my direction, almost as if he was taking a video. "You've just won the Pulitzer Prize. Do you have anything to say?"

"I'd like to thank the academy!" I shouted, raising a hand into the air and brushing my curls from my shoulder. "And Eli Goldsworthy for getting me so drunk right now. And Canada! And sex! And lipstick! And… vodka and… Eli Goldsworthy!" I squealed, reaching for Eli's phone, and throwing it out of his hands and spontaneously pouncing on him. We kissed – sloppily, I might add. I didn't take the time to wonder if Eli's phone was still recording, because I was moaning like a drunken idiot the entire time. He scratched at my back, unhooking my bra and throwing it down onto the ground with his cell phone. Everything moved at such an abrupt pace, Eli throwing my own and his own clothing onto the ground and running his hands through my hair as we both rolled around on Imogen's bed, making the blankets shift completely out of pace.

Eli hovered above me, his teeth tugging on my bottom lip as I breathed hot air onto his face. He had this lustful, devious look in his eyes that caused me to moan in ecstasy. That, and the fact that he slid his knee in between my legs, causing an immense amount of friction against me, enough to make my head spin. I yanked on his black locks, pulling his ear dangerously close to my lips, and I breathed heavily, muttering words desperately into his ear.

"I'm in charge." I whispered, "I get to say what we do. I'm the boss."

"You always are, Clare Diana." Eli grumbled into my ear. "You are always in charge." His teeth sunk into my neck, making a gasp emanate from my mouth in utter pleasure. I whimpered, my body shuddering under his touch. He was so great. Just so fucking great, and to people I always wished I could describe him. Some mystical creature. A fallen angel. He was everything I dreamed of and we constantly treated each other's like property. I was his favourite band tee, and he was my favourite book. Perhaps that's why I adored him so much. He was just some fictional character in my minds book. He was licking and biting all over my neck, his lips making sure to suckle along the soft flesh to make marks of his territory for me to see. I always loved looking at his love bites the next day in the mirror. And he did too, always reminding me how sexy they made me look.

"Eli –" I cried out, my toes curling at the sudden sensation of his hips grinding into my own. "Eli I want to… I want to…" I cut myself off as Eli shifted his position to look down into my eyes. I was seeing double again, two pairs of green daggers looking down at me. One pairs of luscious, delicious lips smirking down at me from above. I felt the breath being stolen out of my lungs as Eli's smirk turned into a toothy grin, and his eyebrows raised sufficiently.

"To what?" he mused.

"I want to…"

"To what?" He asked again, cutting me off this time, and I bit my lip. Using all the strength that I could, I placed my hands on his shoulders and shoved him onto the bedding beside me, crawling on top of him, and letting him take a look at the blue daggers I had. He licked his lips in amusement, and I fought a smile.

"To this." I answered proudly, flipping my hair out of my face and leaning down to kiss his luscious, delicious smirking lips.

And then we slept together. For the thousandth time. The millionth time. Actually, it was the eleventh time but I would always like to think that it could be more than that. And this one time, was the loudest, most pleasurable time of them all. I was screaming, and Eli was cursing, and I was cursing and everything felt like it was sent in overdrive. Maybe it was the being in charge, being on top sort of thing or maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just my imagination, but no matter what it was, it was the most ecstatic feeling I'd ever received. I'd felt electric, like Eli Goldsworthy had plugged me into a wall and I was lighting up and catching on fire.

"Eli, oh my God…" I cried, throwing my head back into the air. "Oh my… fuck!" Eli grabbed my hips, moving in and out of me faster and harder, enough to make me go ballistic at the feeling. I bit down on my lip to try to keep myself quiet, but all it did was cause blood to trickle from the cut I'd created. I clutched for the sheets, as my body finally hit its breaking point and I nearly collapsed. Eli had found the same rhythm as me, apparently, and caught me in his arms. It was difficult to notice, and since neither of us cared about beauty at the time, we didn't process the fact we'd both climaxed at the same time. Maybe we were just too drunk to notice.

Our eyes met for a moment, and I noticed him swallowing his spit. "You wanna go home?" he asked me, and I nodded.

"Should we clean up Imogen's room?"

Eli shook his head. "Nah." He reached over the side of the bed for my bra, picking up his cell phone along with it and noticing that the phone was still recording every single minute. It'd recorded every sound, every swear word, every moment but all it could see was the ceiling. Which, was probably a good thing. Eli held the phone up to see me again, and he laughed. "Say goodnight, Clare Diana." Eli told me, and I giggled.

"Goodnight, Clare Diana!"

I was starting to feel numb. Like every part of my body was tensing up, and it wouldn't let go like when your feet fall asleep and you have to kick them to get them to wake up again. Not the pins and needles part, just the numb part. Eli had his arm around my waist as we both stumbled down the sidewalk back to my house. He constantly had his lips pressed to my ear, where he would whisper dirty little things which would cause me to laugh obnoxiously and not even seem to care that the neighbours would be hearing me. We climbed over the fence, drunkenly managing to get back into my yard and towards the recycling bin that lifted me back up to my bedroom window. There was a little ledge of roofing that was right outside of my window, big enough for someone to sit on if they wanted to – so we did. The two of us sat on my roof and we leaned against the window sill and I leaned my head on his shoulder and he kissed the top of my head.

"Did you have a good night, Clare Diana?" he asked and I nodded, our heads subtly bumping against each other. "Good, because you're going to feel fucking terrible in the morning. Sorry we got so drunk."

"Don't be sorry." I whispered. I reached my hand around his jeans, finding his pocket and pulling out his package of cigarettes. "Light us up." I told him, and Eli obeyed, shuffling through his pocket for his lighter and setting both of the cigarettes ends on fire. I wondered how Eli had changed me so fast. How the first time we had ever hung out he got me to experiment with drugs. The second time, alcohol. And then a few weeks later I was smoking cigarettes, and here I was now going out to parties, getting totally wasted and smoking cigarettes on my roof with this magnificently terrible guy. I watched as Eli blew smoke into the air, and I did the same.

"I think I fall for girls too easily." Eli said softly, but clearly not soft enough because I could hear him, especially when he continued to ramble on. I remember hearing somewhere once, in fact, I think maybe it had been Eli that had told me, but there was a saying: in wine, there is truth. when people are drunk they do or say things they're too scared to when they're sober. I wouldn't realize it now, but in the future I could look back at this moment and realize – this was one of those moments. "I mean, you should see the other girls I fell in love with, Clare. You've met two of them. You'll most likely never meet the other, and you certainly won't meet the last one. It's like, I put myself out there and try to seem like some total hot, mysterious guy and every girl like, goes for it, and I fall for them without even wanting to. That's how it started with you," Eli paused, and took another drag on his cigarette. "You were so stupidly innocent and I felt like… compelled to corrupt you in some sort of way. You were all beautiful and starry-eyed and so naïve. It was so easy. It was too fucking easy and I thought it was going to be a one night sort of thing and then we had sex, and I got attached. I got attached to you and now instead of corrupting you, I'm compelled to stay by your side for as long as I'll get to. You fucked up my brain chemistry.

"Like, all the girls I dated, it was like they all began with me corrupting them and turning them into some fucking wild card girl or something. And yeah, I did that to you. I totally did because before you were wearing clothes that covered you up, and now your tits are like always falling out of your shirt and you make all the boys want to fuck you. Your hair is always like perfectly curled until the end of the night when it's a total mess because I had my fingers running through it, and your lips are stained red and you wear enough eye makeup for two girls. And God, I'm so attracted to you. And I'm really glad you're so drunk right now because I don't think you can hear me, or that you'll remember any of this in the morning. Fuck, I'm not even going to remember it in the morning. Which is a good thing, by the way. You'll like blacking out. Mostly because you won't have to worry about what bad things happen to you, because nothing bad will happen to you. Because I'll keep you safe. God, you're so sexy." Eli's hand that was wrapped around my waist, slid up my body, and suddenly grasped my breast for a moment, causing a subtle gasp to fall from my lips. And then he let his hand fall, as if he had never done the action in the first place.

He sighed, and I noticed him putting his cigarette out on his arm as he always did, and reached for mine to do the same. I always hated that he did that. I always thought it would hurt so badly, but he seemed to be immune to the pain. "I suck at relationships, and that's why I don't think we could ever be together, Clare Diana. I only had one girlfriend, and the rest of the girls I fell in love with were never really mine. Well, Imogen always liked to believe we were together and she paraded around Ventura saying she was my girlfriend, but we never really were official. After my one girlfriend, after what happened to her – I don't date. I just don't. I'm afraid of what happened to her will happen to other girls. I'm afraid it will happen to you, even though you, Clare Diana, are a complete opposite to her. You're youthful, and spirited, and excited about everything. She was a dead-beat, drama loving, conniving little bitch. And I don't mean like theatrics drama, I mean she liked to cause drama between myself and everyone else. She hated the Fantastic Four. She hated me, most of the time. But she stayed with me because sometimes she said I was the only good thing she had in her life. She had really dark black hair and she liked to hook up with other boys to see my reaction. But I don't know why because my reaction was always the same. She was a total bitch but I couldn't say no to her. I can't say no to you either, you know. I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Then again you've never given me a reason to say no to you.

"Except for when you tried to go come into my house. I had to say no then. That's when I actually had to seem like the hot, mysterious guy because I can't let you in there. I can't let you in there because your entire opinion of me will be changed. You'll think I'm a maniac or something. Okay, maniac isn't the right word but you won't like me anymore. I hate being there. I hate my house. I hate everything about that fucking place."

"Then don't go home." I whispered, nuzzling my head into Eli's neck and placing a few stray kisses against his skin. I always loved his taste. "Spend the night with me. Live with me in my closet and never go home. Stay here."

Eli hummed, and I could feel his head turning to look up at my bedroom window. I wondered if he was considering it. Considering coming to stay with me up in my bedroom and my father would never find out about him. He could stay away from his fucked up home and live with me forever. "You're tired, aren't you." Eli said softly to me. I could feel his breath tickling my ear.

"Yeah. Exhausted." I even found myself yawning at his words without warning. He chuckled, straightening up a bit.

"I'll spend the night. Let's get you up to bed." Eli whispered, and I nodded drunkenly as he helped me back into my bedroom window, and helped me change my clothes. I wasn't even nervous anymore. I loved him looking at me. He dressed me in an oversized t-shirt, and I noticed him crawling into bed beside me in just his boxers. He kissed my neck, and I wanted him to sleep with me. Like, sleep with me sleep with me right then and there, but Eli wouldn't allow it. "Clare, I have to tell you something."

"What?" I whispered, dozing off for a moment, trying to keep myself awake to listen to him.

"Are you listening?"

"Yes, Eli." I smiled, and he kissed my lips.

"I'm in love with you."

I fell asleep.

I fell asleep and the worst part was, I didn't remember any of anything in the morning.