Use me as you will
Pull my strings just for a thrill
And I know I'll be okay
Though my skies are turning gray
I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all
-Your Guardian Angel; The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Clove wakes up to a prickly tongue on her nose, her eyes clench in confusion until she opens her naturally dark eyes. Smoky licks her nose repeatedly until she giggles and sits up, watching him fall onto her lap. "Hello Smoky."
She strokes his little head, ruffling his ears. Smoky meows at her, tiny claws digging into the fabric of her pink dress as he tramples around clumsily.
"You're really cute, you know that?" She laughs, then dumps the grey fluff of kitten onto the floor. The tabby trots to the door and slips out through the slim crack, today was Sunday and Clove could smell bacon.
She quickly changes out of the pink dress and into her favorite yellow flannel pajamas; just to look like she just rolled out of bed and not a band gig. Her feet stuff into oversized bunny slippers, she listens to them flop on the floor as she opens the door and walks out, she yawns a bit. It was 6:30 in the morning, and the sun had barely risen at all, it was dawn.
She finds that Jason was awake as well and Smoky had found his way into the 5 year old's lap, Haymitch was frying a bunch of breakfast meat while hummingbirds fed off the sugar water Haymitch usually set out on the small deck for them.
"Good morning, Clovey! Did you have fun at the party last night?" Jason asks.
"Yeah, I guess."
"I like parties. Was there a bouncy castle?"
"No, Jason."
"Oh... stupid party."
Cato sits on the floor nonchalantly, reading something on his laptop. Clove takes a minute to examine his morning look. Hair that stuck up every which way, a willowy almost ghostly look to him, and most of all—no shirt, bright red sweatpants.
The brunette was confronted with years of training, and if she didn't have common sense she would've assumed he was on steroids.
"Shouldn't he be wearing a shirt in front of Jay?" Clove mumbles, though deep inside she kind of likes it, that beautiful dancer's body just right there in front of her and oh shit, that girly side of her was coming again and she suppressed it as hard as she could.
But Clove was still a teenage girl, no matter how much she enjoyed denying it.
Haymitch stops his cooking, the quiet sizzling of bacon against a pot as he gives a half smirk. His niece could be very amusing "There's no rule, why?"
"Just suggesting.." The brunette swallows, then boldly looking back to Cato. She wonders why he never sits on the couch or in a chair anymore, always on the floor now-a-days—as if they weren't going to allow him to sit on the couch after that one day. "Hey, you can sit if you want, we don't bite."
"Smoky bites," Jason points to the little red divets in his arms, now glazing over with grey; though they were only prints—Smoky hadn't bitten through skin and Clove wasn't sure the near microscopic kitten ever could.
Clove gives her signature eye roll. She never thought her brother would be attached to something so quickly, he learned to be cynical like her—or at least she had hoped.
Cato remains on the floor, obviously secretive of whatever he was doing on his laptop. The reflection of movement from the dimmed screen is reflecting in his eyes, and she never really noticed it before but his irises were a bit purple if she looked really close.
"So, it's Sunday, and I'm taking Jay to the Zoo." Haymitch announces.
"Great, have fun." Clove deadpans, swiping a magazine from a little side table by the sofa. It was a random craft magazine, something that was saved for her each week.
"I get to see tigers, and you don't!" Jason sticks his tongue out mockingly, Clove glances up and rolls her eyes. "Wow, so jealous.." She mumbles, licking her thumb to turn the thin, static-covered page.
"Anyway, what are you and Cato going to do?"
"What, you're just assuming we're going to be doing something together?"
Haymitch almost chuckles at the defensive remark, but instead relents because it isn't worth the argument. "I thought it'd be nice for your little project."
"Project?" The brunette comes to her senses as soon as the words leave her mouth. "How did you know about that?!"
"You left your journal on the kitchen table," He explains, shucking a pancake off the griddle and sliding it onto a plate.
"It says do not open!" Clove whines. She contemplates running to get the journal, but it was no use—Uncle Haymitch knew everything and was going to exploit it day after day.
"You sound like a 1st grader again," Haymitch teases, unintentionally sounding flippant; Clove growls to herself. She hated him sometimes, but she knew that couldn't be possible—he'd been the only one willing to take her, she loved him for that.
Sometimes, she wondered if he even knew.
"Jay, I made you 3 chocolate pancakes, come get'em."
Jason whoops loudly and Smoky flies into the midair, his claws scrawl against the floor as he struggles to round the corner to Clove's room. Jason disregards the startled kitten and flings himself of the chair, little feet slamming to the floor.
"That reminds me, the cat needs pet food."
"I've just been cutting up some leftover meats, he likes it fine. Why buy cat food for no reason?" Haymitch questions; he'd never had a pet, let alone a cat.
Clove ignores the response and throws the magazine aside, rising off the cusions and going to the bar in the kitchen. She almost forgets to tap Cato, but remembers just before she steps onto the tiles.
"Clove, did you take your pill?" Haymitch asks as he throws his vitamin into his mouth. Clove's skin goes a shade paler, slightly olive-tinted flesh becoming a shade lighter.
"Yeah..."
"That's a lie."
"I don't want to take it today," She grumbles quietly, trying to disregard him.
"Clove."
"I don't want it, we're not going out in public. I'll be fine."
Haymitch shakes his head, removing the plastic orange bottle from the cupboard and pressing on the cap, twisting it from its safety. "Do you really want to take this risk? You were doing so good, don't give up now."
He hands the pill to her and he can tell she's so close to knocking it out of his hand, but she had the strength to hold back and that why she needs to keep taking this medicine.
"Fuck you," Her voice growls softly while taking the pill, tossing it to the back of her throat.
"I know; baby, I know," He mutters some-what comfortingly while passing her a bottle of water. "Don't beat yourself up; it's not your fault, it's not anybodys' fault."
Cato needlessly glares into his empty glass of milk, having ate a cup of strawberry yogurt and some cantaloupe. Haymitch read the newspaper and drank orange juice, Jason played with his action figures between bites of chocolate pancakes, and Clove—well, Clove was pretty much doing what he was doing: sitting with her hands in her lap, having pushed her empty, syrup-covered plate away.
Except it was different, because Clove was full. Cato wasn't exactly full, but he felt like it. And God, he needed to control it. He needed to boss it around before it took over all because he relented to the feeling. He didn't need it, he was better than that.
(Because for Cato, it wasn't as much about having low body weight as much as it was about control.)
"Pewnie, że nie chcesz więcej, Cato?" Haymitch asks, looking at the boy from the corner of his eye. {Translation: Are you sure you don't want more, Cato?}
"Nie dziękuję, jestem w porządku." He answers tacitly. {Translation: No thanks, I'm fine.}
Cato looks down at his cellphone, seeing as the screen had perked to life with fluorescent light. Annie's name shows up and he feels his heart lift with hope, finally! Someone who wasn't ignoring him!
Witam! Ja za tobą tęsknię! ;"( {Translation: Hi! I miss you so much! ;"( }
He smiles sadly, returning a text with hastily moving thumbs.
Wiem, ja też za tobą tęsknię :( Jak się masz?{Translation: I know, I miss you too :( How are you?}
He presses send and looks up to find that Clove is also texting someone, Haymitch rolls his eyes and says something along the lines of teenagers, always texting in a seemingly confused, annoyed voice.
Tak więc jednym z łasica dzieci jest stalking mnie teraz, przyniósł mi bukiet kwiatów wczoraj i teraz on mnie lubi i tak idziemy na randkę, ale nie sądzę, naprawdę chcę, bo nie jest nawet ładny, ale on jest taki słodki, gdy się go poznać i bóg Cato dlaczego musisz wyjść?! D:
{Translation: Yeah so one of the weasel kids is stalking me now, he brought me a bunch of flowers yesterday and now he likes me and so we're going on a date but I know if it's a good idea because he's not even cute but he's so sweet once you get to know him and god Cato why'd you have to leave?! D:}
Of course Annie was going out with one of his annoying neighbors. Annie loved romance, even if it was with the wrong people. It was the only atrocious personality flaw about her in his mind, she was quick to find a boyfriend and he came to meet the parents right after the first date to which he pulled her reigns, telling her to slow down before she scared the poor boy away.
She thirsted for a love story, he was just glad she never wanted it with him.
Jestem... przykro? {Translation: I'm.. sorry?}
"Jason, could you bring your dish over here? And don't drop it this time." Haymitch calls, Jason hops from his chair and runs the plate to the counter. "Clove, honey are you finished?"
"Yeah, I'm done," Cato found that Clove was staring down at the phone in his lap as it buzzed with messages. He was almost afraid of her expression, her eyes were scrutinizing what he was typing carefully and it was then that the advantages of speaking a different language were hitting him in the face.
She wouldn't be able to understand a thing, and that was good; because he wasn't ready to be judged—not yet, and certainly not by her.
Chciałbym mieć więcej znajomych, które były dziewczyny, a nie jakiś głupi chłopiec, który nigdy nie wie, co powiedzieć. -_- {Translation: I wish I had more friends that were girls and not some dumb old boy that never knows what to say. -_-}
Cato's mouth drops open in near offense, even though she was more than likely joking it still hurt—especially when coming from Annie, a bubbly ballerina that would rather jump off a bridge than hurt people's feelings.
D:
Przykro mi, wiesz, że jesteś moim najlepszym przyjacielem i uwielbiam z tobą rozmawiać! {Translation: I'm sorry, you know you're my best friend and I love talking to you!}
:D
Ale nie wiesz, jak rozmawiać o chłopców z mnie. {Translation: But you don't know how to talk about boys with me.}
D:
Clove picks out a short-sleeved beige button-up for Jason, with a pair of khaki shorts and a navy blue sunhat, she watches as her baby brother puts a finger to his lips and then nods his head once.
He always had to approve the outfits she picked out for him. He wasn't picky about food, where he slept, how much time things took; but he was sure picky about clothes. He hated the seams on his socks, she turned them inside out. He didn't like belts, she had to get tighter fit pants. He didn't like itchy long-sleeved sweaters or anything that covered his arms because his body was claustrophobic, he complained of the cold all the time and well, there was nothing she could do to prevent that.
Uncle Haymitch had long ago given up on dressing the kid, the responsibility was passed down to Clove once more and she came to find that Jason was still stubborn about the whole thing.
She put the shirt over the little blonde boy's bare shoulders as he babbled on about random stuff that she wished she could listen to. Sometimes Jason just needed to talk, whether it was about his dream last night or about this mean girl in his class, and he liked it when Clove listened but there were times when she just couldn't anymore.
"Do you think Uncle Haymitch will take me to the big toy store? I miss the toy store, I like looking at all the Barbies."
Clove chuckles a bit once she finishes buttoning his shirt, she looks at him. Jason always liked Barbies and he enjoyed playing with Clove's old American Girl dolls, Nicki and Samantha. He treated the dolls nicely, being a soft-hearted child with the strongest case of compassion any 6 year old could have.
Haymitch always frowned upon a boy having a doll, but Clove didn't give a shit. Jason was her baby brother and she had authority over what he had, incidently.
"I know, you can ask him. I'll give him money for the taxi if he doesn't wanna pay." She winks, her brother breaks out in a big grin.
"Yay!"
She smiles a bit, handing him the rest of his outfit. "Okay, now go put on your pants."
He disappears into his little bathroom, Clove sits and waits. His tiny, old TV is flickering with visions of Doc McStuffins and a stuffed blue dragon reaching into a giant spaceship, trying to save some toy.
Clove falls back into Jason's twin bed, the soft comforter puffing up around her. Absentmindedly, her boggled psyche begins travelling through thoughts of Cato texting this 'Annie.' She kind of felt bad about his long distance relationship, there were a lot of frowny-faces in that conversation, it's a shame his girlfriend's so far away.
The look on his face showed her that he must really love her, so many emotions were there and then suddenly Clove felt something she hadn't felt in a long fucking time: jealousy.
Luckily, Jason came bounding out of the bathroom, saving her from feeling like that any further. Clove wasn't good with feelings.
"Can you tie my shoes? I still don't get it." Jason yammers, sticking up his sneaker; it's worn and aged laces hanging down of the grey shoe.
Clove sits up, hopping to the floor and beginning to tie the loose strings. "Bunny ears, bunny ears, playing by a tree. Criss-crossed the tree, trying to catch me. Bunny ears, bunny ears, jumped into the hole, popped out the other side beautiful and bold."
"Is that how you learned it?"
"Yup," Clove pats his foot, he jumps off the edge of the bed as his big sister walks him to the bathroom, holding his relentless tiny hand. He lifts himself up onto the pearly white counter, sitting down up close to the mirror and playing with his upper lip.
"Hey, let me see," He turns at the slightly curious tone, proudly showing Clove the scar. She looks at it for awhile; fingers raking over the red, puffed-out line scaling the distance from the bottom of his nose to the top of his lip.
"It's healed up pretty good, you know," She smiles. "It's barely noticable."
"Nobody can see it anymore?" Jason was ecstatic to finally hear those words.
"Maybe if they get up close, but then it'd just be a little papercut to them."
The 6 year old wrinkles his nose, raising a dramatic eyebrow. "Papercut on my face?" "Whatever, you know what I mean, brush your teeth."
Cato watches as Clove sets down a tall pile of books on the counter, and also has a CD and a mostly yellow box.
"Okay, so since there's nothing else to do today and we head to school tomorrow I've decided to teach you basic English."
He sits silently.
"Thank god the exchange student system provided all this shit for you, because if they didn't, you'd be absolutely screwed." She jokes, taking out a thick deck of white flash cards. "I'm just glad you're not Russian or Ukrainian so the alphabet won't be too hard."
Cato's hands remain balled up together in his lap as the brunette evens out the cards neatly, assuring her unbelieving eyes that the edges are lined up. He watches with big eyes as she organizes herself, noticing her need for everything to be straightened out.
"Alright, so all I'm going to do is hold up a card with a letter on it and you tell me what sound it makes." That seemed easy enough.
But it wasn't easy at all. Clove kept correcting him and then she scribbled on a clipboard, Cato was beginning to go insane. No, no, no, no she said it every time he tried! Why was he getting everything wrong?
The "Q"s, "V"s, and "X"s were the worst, he'd never once seen them.
He remains calm because he wanted to learn, he liked learning things and he liked knowledge. He made a decision that he'd need to erase every instinct his mind has if he wants to know how to be an American, and he trusted Clove to bring him there.
Clove sees the pale blonde struggling with the words she had decided to give him, his bright, innocent blue eyes are staring at them as she points to each one in Jason's language arts book. She taught the long and short sounds, he still got them confused but he would remember if she tried.
On the very last vocabulary word, accident; she allows herself a glance at him, only to find those eyes returning to hers with the same amount of alacrity.
When Clove looked at Cato, she saw herself in that moment. She was reminded of a little girl, sitting in math class with big, geeky glasses covering her sparkling, almond colored doe eyes; the math teacher whacking down a wrinkled hand onto her dust wooden desk. There was a big, fat, red D minus on her test, the girl was mortified.
The short and shy 5th grader sunk into her seat as her teacher began crying out in disappointment that 'she had told her a million times that 48 and 84 or 56 and 65 are not the same numbers' and that 'a multiplication sign doesn't mean adding' and that 'question marks might work for her precious language arts tests but not math tests.'
"I-I didn't pass because I couldn't read the n-numbers.." She spoke like a tiny bird, her soft voice blending into the mild crescendos of the cold classroom. The teacher only cackled, marching back to her whiteboard as silent tears ran down the girl's olive-y cheeks.
That girl was Clove. Ever since she could remember, she was an unfortunate soul that saw numbers how one with dyslexia would see letters. Every day Uncle Haymitch and Jason told her it would make sense soon and she could wish all she wanted for those days but this was now, and it just sucked.
Whilst staring into the deep, pleading eyes; she understands what it's like to be disabled and upset with yourself and she let him go, promising that tomorrow it would be better. He leaves, almost dissatisfied with himself; she is quick out of her trance and racing to his side.
She grabs his heavy shoulder, and turns him around; and she's not sure why she does it but she hugs him at an animated pace, giving him hardly any time to get his own arms around her. It was almost too much for Clove, she was so damn impulsive and sometimes she didn't just know how to get a handle on it.
It was strange to understand a person because hell, she didn't understand anyone and the only person she might've figured all the way out was Marvel, because he was about as deep as a kiddie pool.
"Don't beat yourself down, English is the hardest language to learn."
Clove goes to her office and writes.
-Day 4
Just this weekend I met a boy—he's a ballet dancer looking to be professional in his craft, he's Polish, he's genuinely sweet, and spontaneously enthralling. It's a given that I, and soon you all as well, have never met anybody like him. I was once told that people like that were rare, going extinct; and today I was met with ultimate perspicuity, and I feel if we continue to meet for daily English lessons—I won't be the only teacher. Perhaps, he could teach me something, too.
Joyeux anniversaire à moi! haha. Yes, it's my birthday today! (May 13th)
And also, I'm thinking about rewriting these latest chapters... it's not going the way I want... hmmm... I had it planned out, but it took a path of it's own.
Oh, and my good friend Cherry (she has a name, but she does not want to share it) just got a fanfiction account; she's writing an awesome Renesmee story right now; so please go check out her profile super quick? She's called "cherrycordial". She's amazing and I am very jealous of her skills.
Thanks, reviews are not required but certainly appreciated. :)