He loved the way she looked in his bed. The way her hair fanned out in a halo around her, her features returning to the natural look, no longer pained with guilt. It was mesmerizing.
She was mesmerizing.
He watched her shuffle around the bed after he placed her down, knowing she's was trying to get comfortable. He didn't dare touch her, not after that. He may be a monster, but he wasn't that evil. Not even he would take advantage of someone like that. That's just cruel, soulless. He watched as she flopped around again, her limbs tangling themselves in his blankets. She looked perfect laying there. She was perfect laying there.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
His heart thumped louder in his chest at the sight of her. What was happening to him? He hated her. He hated her so much. She was everything that he wasn't. She was good, she was kind, she could love unconditionally without an issue.
Love.
The thought felt invasive in his mind.
He didn't love her. He didn't even know her. He hated her. He HAD to hate her. She was everything that he despised, but the word hummed in tune with his heart.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He was going crazy. He was going to go crazy. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't deal with her. He branded her skin, but she branded him. Every inch of her covered his room. Her hairbrush laid in the bathroom on his sink, a caution she told him for the mornings she was there because she certainly couldn't use HIS hairbrush. But then again, he found himself leaving her a toothbrush for the mornings she was sneaking out, and he found his shirts missing during some nights. He etched herself into his life, taking over every aspect of who he was. She was going to drive him mad.
She was consuming him. He couldn't help it. It felt like he was burning, burning so hot that he was going to implode, but her touch. Oh, her touch is what did it for him. It soothed his skin, his burning heart, as she pressed soft kisses against his lips as his hands roamed every part of her body. She was a part of him.
He was fucked. He was so fucked. This couldn't be happening to him.
He jumped up from the edge of the bed, a frown appearing on his face as he stared at the red-headed goddess on his bed. His heart thumped louder at the sight of her.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He's so terribly fucked.
Suddenly, Blossom lurched up from her sleep, her arms waving frantically as she searched for a trash can. Grabbing the nearest item, Brick watched as she started vomiting profusely. He heard a soft cry, and her hand went out to the side of her, her fist clenching and unclenching, as if she was waiting for him to hold her hand. Staring at her for a moment, Brick watched as Blossom raised her pink eyes to meet his. Teardrops brimmed her eyes before her gaze returned to the trash can, more vomit following soon after.
Sighing for a moment, Brick found himself sitting next to Blossom, and his hand found itself wrapping around hers.
His heart leapt at the contact, the way she squeezed her hand tighter as another wave of it hit her stomach.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He was so utterly fucked.
She wanted to die. Her muscles ached every time she moved, and her head was pounding so loud it seemed like a jack hammer was being beaten into it. The sun burned against her eyelids, indicating that it was time to wake up, but she didn't want to. She just wanted to stay in her bed all day until the pounding sensation disappeared, and she could go back to sleep. Was it that hard? She worked so hard and so often, she deserved to have one day to sleep in. That wasn't too much to ask.
Squeezing her eyes tighter and pulling the blanket over her head, Blossom shuffled closer to the heat source next to her. With a happy sigh escaping her lips, she pressed her face further into the heat source, her cold body leeching off as much as she can. The heat source shifted slightly, pulling away from her. She could feel a frown appearing on her face. Why was the heat source moving? More importantly, why was it moving away from her?
She inched closer to it, shifting her leg so it draped itself over the heat. She snaked her arm around it as well, pressing her body entire against the warmth. A small smile replaced the frown, and she let out a soft moan of pleasure from it. She was so warm now, the ice inside her soul slowly melting. This was perfection. This is exactly how life should be at every moment. Just total, warm bliss. Every moment, every day, for the rest of her life. Just her, the bed, and this heat source that was suddenly shifting away. Why does it keep shifting away from her?
"Nooooooooo" the whine left her lips, her hand trying to hold on to it as it pulled away. She heard a chuckle as a hand pushed her leg off the heat. Peeling her eyes open, her fingers grasped one more time for the heat source. Blinking slowly, her eyes adjusted to the mid-morning sun beating down on her. She closed them again, her body stretching out like a cat. Her muscles ached in pain and her head throbbed, but she was warm. She was finally warm. She heard the chuckle again, causing her to open her eyes once more. Brick laid next to her, his arms crossed behind his head, and his own eyes closed. It took a moment before it clicked in her head that she was in Brick's room, in Brick's bed, cuddling Brick.
A strangled cry escaped her lips as she pushed herself away from him. Brick opened his eyes, taking a sweeping glance at Blossom as she tried to put distance between them. Her face burned as bright as her hair, her fingers holding onto the blanket for dear life. She could feel her clothes still on her, so she knows that they didn't have sex but, what was she doing here? Why was she sleeping on top of him?
Blossom could feel her face getting brighter, her eyes flashing to his face. He was smirking at her, that smug arrogant asshole. He was enjoying this!
Huffing, she reached for the pillow behind her, flinging it towards his face. He smirked as he caught it, dropping the pillow off the edge of the bed.
"You asshole! Why am I here?! Why does my head hurt? What is that god awful smell?!" Her head throbbed with each word, causing her hands to rise to rub her temples.
Brick's eyes narrowed, the smirk disappearing from his face. He's the asshole? He saved her sorry ass!
"What was that, princess?"
'I said you're an asshole! What am I doing here?" She winces, clutching her head once more.
"Do you not remember last night? At All?"
"No," she winces again, glaring up lightly at the ceiling light. "All I remember is getting there, but it gets all fuzzy after that. Ugh, I didn't know I could get drunk."
She heard him chuckle, her bright pink eyes turning sharply to look at him.
"Shut up! It's not funny, my head is pounding and my sisters are probably wondering where I am! I need to get home." She stood up, her hands dropping to her sides to fix her crumpled shirt. Brushing the dust off her jeans, she went searching for her shoes. A callused hand grabs hers, red eyes scanning her face as if she was going to disappear. Tugging her hand slightly, the grip doesn't let go, but tightens. She notices that his knuckles are healing slowly, cuts stitching themselves back together. When did he get hurt?
"I-" she watches as a frown appears on his lips before his hand lets hers go. She tilts her head, her pink eyes searching his eyes for a moment before his gaze drops to the floor.
"Your shoes are by the window. Now get out. No one wants you here anyway."
She huffs, stomping over to her shoes. She slips them on, and then she slips out the window, taking off in a streak of pink.
She doesn't admit later that she misses the way his body warmed her soul, or the way her eyes saw something burning in his that said the opposite of hate. She doesn't admit that she misses him.
The day passes by in a blur, and Blossom makes up some excuses as to why she wasn't around, feigning a headache to get out of things for the rest of the day. She falls asleep by 5, and doesn't wake up again until 11 the next day. She contemplates staying in bed for the rest of the day because her muscles still ache, and the throbbing is still there, but Bubbles comes bounding into her room asking if she wants to go to a local art exhibit for a paper, and Blossom agrees because how could she say no to her baby sister?
Bubbles squeals, pronounces her undying love for her sister, and Blossom can't help but think that maybe it wouldn't be too bad to leave the bed.
The art exhibit goes well, and Blossom's mood perks up as the day goes on. Her and Bubbles get ice cream, despite Blossom's attempt at explaining how ice cream in December isn't the best. It's nice. It's peaceful, and with the headache that won't seem to go away, peaceful is exactly what she needs for the day.
Buttercup joins them a few hours later, piling into Blossom's bed with bags of chips in her arms as she squeezes herself between her sisters. They laugh, and talk about TV shows and sports, and it's what Blossom needed. She can already feel herself becoming whole, becoming who she was before this whole ordeal with Brick. Until Buttercup asks about the party, and Blossom hesitates.
"Was it fun or not? I never really liked house parties, it's always just people standing around, drinking and smoking. Nothing really happens. Well, except last night I guess. Apparently a fight broke out between Mitch and some guy, but no one knows who. They just found him in a pile of blood on the floor of a bedroom. His nose is broken, and both of his eyes are swollen shut. He won't say who did it though. Did you see anything?"
Blossom could feel her blood run cold. Pieces of the night flooded her brain. Brick standing over Mitch. Mitch crying out in pain. Fear flooded her veins, as she remembered watching Brick beat him into submission. But why? Why would he do that? Why would she let him do that?
"Hello? Blossom? Anyone there? Did you see anything or not?" Buttercup's voice broke through her trance, her vision snapping back into reality. Now was not the time to think about the fact that she watched Brick beat someone near death and didn't do anything about it.
"Um no, I had left before that I think. Or it happened while I was in the living room, really the night is a blur past a certain point. I think the lack of sleep has been getting to me lately."
"What lack of sleep? Whenever Bubbles wakes you up in the morning, you're out like a rock."
"Yeah! I usually have to rip the blankets off of you before you can even open your eyes!" Bubbles chimes in, in the background. Blossom could feel the heat rising to her skin, a blush forming on her cheeks. She couldn't tell her sisters about Brick. No one could know about him.
"Oh, um, I guess this is a good time to tell you. I've been patrolling lately. I haven't been able to sleep too well at night so I've been going out and making sure nothing too bad is happening. I didn't want to worry you guys, so I thought to keep it too myself."
"Blossom! You should never worry about that kind of stuff! We know that you're trying to make sure that Townsville is safe and sound forever, but you shouldn't be killing yourself over it all. The police can handle it!" Bubbles wrapped her arms around Blossom, pulling her into a bone crushing hug. She knew she was right, even if it was a complete lie. But she needed something to keep him a secret. She couldn't admit it to them, especially since he was the reason that he broke Mitch's nose for no reason last night.
Nodding, and forcing Buttercup into the hug as well, Blossom could feel her heart breaking again.
Hours later, the Professor would find his three daughters entangled together on Blossom's bed, the three of them clutching onto each other as if they were their lifelines.
Blossom was dreading third period because she knew that he was going to be there. Even though admitting to her sisters that she wasn't able to sleep well anymore, despite the reason being a lie, and having her sisters spend the night with her, the guilt was eating away at her soul. Why didn't she stop him? Why would she let it happen? As much as she wanted to ignore him for the rest of her life, she needed to know the truth.
So when third period rolled around, and his seat was vacant, she started getting angry. Huffing slightly, she turned her focus back to her teacher, knowing she'd see him in fifth period.
Except he wasn't there again, and now she was furious. The ONE day she actually wanted to interact with him, and he wasn't there. Clenching her binder, and grinding her teeth slightly, she stalked out of the school. At least she could go home now without having to have an altercation but she needed to know the truth. It was destroying her inside. Why didn't she do anything?
Almost to Buttercup's car, she spotted a familiar flash of red pull in next to her. Her pulse quickened as she spotted him in the driver's seat. He looked exhausted. His hands clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles appearing white to her. Why would he be here now? He wasn't in class all day, what was the point of showing up now? It didn't really matter cause she needed to talk to him, now.
She knocks on the window, drawing his gaze away from the car in front of him. He glares for a moment before it registers that she's staring at him intensely. His gaze softens, the window rolling down. A frown is still present on his lips, but she can read his eyes easily.
He was worried about something.
Knowing what she wanted to ask, she heard her voice saying instead "why weren't you in class? I was looking for you."
She watched as his eyebrows shot up, the frown disappearing as his mouth opens in surprise.
"You were looking for me?" She could feel the heat rising to her face as he stared at her, a gleam in his eyes that wasn't there before.
"Shut up. I wanted to talk to you about Friday. About what you did to Mitch." The gleam disappeared as his eyes.
"Mitch is lucky that was all I did to him."
"He didn't deserve it, and you know that. Beating up some innocent guy at a party is evil, and you know that. But I wanna know why I didn't do anything to stop it. Clearly my memory is hazy, but I have the right to know why I didn't stop you. Did you do something to me?"
"Innocent?" It came out in a hiss, his fists clenching the steering wheel even tighter. Who does she think she is? Claiming he beat up that asshole for no reason? He saved her. "Clearly, princess, your memory is hazy because he was no way near innocent for what he was about to do."
"What Brick! What was he about to do that was so terrible that you had to beat him up for? Did I make out with him? I'm not your property, I'm allowed to be with other people!" She could feel her voice rising, her fists clenching tightly. Flickers of pink surround her fists, her anger growing stronger.
"You're not my property, Blossom. But I wasn't about to watch some asshole rape you at a high school party because you were too fucking drunk to realize what was happening. Sorry for saving your ass, it won't happen again."
Rape.
That word rang in her ears. Echoing throughout her skull as Friday night finally caught up to her. She remembered the continuous drinks he fed her. She remembered him leading her down a hallway, and herself fighting him off as best as she could. She remembered Brick barging in, taking in the situation for one moment before throttling the boy in front of her.
Rape.
Mitch was going to rape her.
And before Blossom could thank Brick, because he did save her, he was gone.
She doesn't know why she was searching for him, but the desire to find out why was now replaced with a desire to say thank you. He bothered saving her when no one else did, when she couldn't even save herself. He cared on some physical level about her. He cared.
The thought made her stop in her tracks. He cared about her, he made sure that she got back to his place safe and sound last night. He cleaned up after her, took care of her when she couldn't take care of herself. Her heart fluttered at that thought. It was always touches and soft whispers of pleasure in the middle of the night. There wasn't supposed to be emotions involved. That wasn't apart of the deal. He wasn't supposed to care about her.
But he did. That changed everything.
He had to realize that she couldn't care about him back. They couldn't be together, they were not supposed to be the way they are now. She hated him. But her heart kept thumping in her chest, and his touch burned into her skin. It felt like love. But it couldn't be that.
Love wasn't that simple. She couldn't love him. But she could like him. She could have fun with him. She wanted to spend time with him. Maybe it was the party, or maybe it was some catalyst that began the day he showed her a sign of empathy in the form of an aspirin.
She had to find him. She had to tell him.
She took off higher in the sky, her eyes scanning further until she could finally find him.
The smoke burned his throat, his finger flicking the butt of the cigarette onto the ground beneath him. Staring out into the sea, Brick ran his fingers through his hair.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid stupid. He was an idiot going to the school. He wanted to see her again, he needed to see her again. Spending all weekend worrying about the red headed beauty was killing him, but he couldn't bare to sit in a class next to her all day either. She was killing him slowly, etching into his skin like a drug.
But hearing the words "I've been looking for you" rang throughout his head over and over again. He couldn't help himself to feel a speck of happiness. She wanted to see him. She was looking for him all day, wondering where he could be.
He was on her mind.
But then she blamed him. She blamed him, and she didn't even know. She didn't know the hell she was putting him through. He was haunted by her. She invaded him like a plague, and she didn't know.
So he ran. He didn't need to know her response. But staring at the edge of a cliff, 50 miles away from his life in Townsville, he couldn't help but wonder what she was going to say. Reaching into his pocket, Brick produced another cigarette. Flicking the lighter to life, the scent of burning tobacco filled his nose. While nicotine couldn't impact his body, the sensation of the cigarette on his lips brought a sense of peace upon him.
He could hear it from miles away, the rush of wind as someone barreled towards the cliff with speeds surpassing that of a plane. He heard them land behind him quietly, the roaring of the sea echoing in his ears as she loomed behind him. The person landed too soft behind him, ruling out his brothers, and her sisters wouldn't have come looking for him. It had to be her.
She was looking for him again.
His heart skipped a beat.
They didn't speak, the sounds of waves filling the silence between them. The waves crashed against the rocks, becoming more violent. It was going to rain, he could tell. He could hear her shuffle from foot to foot, and he could only imagine how her hands were wringing back and forth between each other. He didn't want to speak, knowing she'd have some excuse on why she followed him out of here. He wanted the truth. He wanted her to say that there is some unfathomable reason as to why they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. He wanted an explanation as to why she plagues his mind at all times.
He wanted an answer.
She still didn't speak.
Flicking the butt onto the ground, he sighed. He couldn't do this forever. He couldn't chase after her in his dreams. She wasn't his to chase. As much as he craved her, desired her, she wasn't his. He had to end this.
He turned around, his eyes catching hers as she stared at him with such intent. He couldn't read the cloud of emotions behind her eyes. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his feet rising off of the ground. If she wasn't going to say anything, he wasn't going to stand here. He didn't need her. She watched as he went higher into the air, about to take off for good.
"Please stay." Her voice was a whisper, a shallow lull of uncertainty. He stopped, hovering above the ground. He lowered himself slowly, his eyes watching her closely. She tugged her arms around herself, hugging the thin sweatshirt close to her body. She was too skinny, too delicate, as if she would break the second he held her. He knew he was the one who did this to her.
"What do you want?" His voice was cold, calculated. He didn't want to show emotion. He didn't want to care.
"I-," she hesitated, glancing down at her writhing hands, "I wanted to say thank you. For Friday night. I remember parts of it. If you weren't there, I don't know what I would have done. I didn't think. I didn't know that Mitch was every capable of something like that. Thank you, Brick. Thank you for saving my life. I don't want to think about what would have happened if you didn't step in. But thank you."
She's still looking at the ground, and he can see tears forming in her eyes. Tentatively, he reaches out his hand, taking one of hers into his palm. His thumb brushes over her knuckles, running back and forth slowly.
"I thought I was too late." His voice comes out as a whisper, drawing her eyes back up to his. "When I saw him grabbing you, I didn't think. I just reacted. The thought of him on you, touching you like that. I couldn't help it, I needed to break him. I liked breaking him. The feeling of his blood on my knuckles felt right. "
"You were right on time." He felt a warmth spread through his body. He watched as she rose on her toes, her lips cautiously touching his. It was a small peak of the lips, but fire surged throughout him. His veins hummed to life, his heart beating faster.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
She pulled back, rocking onto the heels of her feet. He watched as her face brightened, a rose pink spreading on her cheeks. He lowered himself to her level, slowly placing his lips on hers once more. She grips onto his shirt as if she's hanging onto dear life, and his fingers burn into her skin as they drag her closer. She deepened the kiss, trying to bring him tighter against her. The kisses turned hungry, desperate for contact as if they were starving without each other.
Her fingers dug into his skin, and she felt him grip her legs. He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed her against him. Her fingers ran through his hair, a need to just feel him burning through her.
Thunder rolled in the distance as a drizzle settled on them.
In that moment, neither of them cared.
Author's Note:
Okay. Wow. This is, without a doubt, the most I've written for this story so far. As much as I wanted to put out an update sooner, every time I came back to edit, I had to add more. I felt like they needed to have some kind of resolution.
Even though they really didn't get one yet. I'm really enjoying splitting their perspectives, and I've decided to edit the previous chapters so the story makes more sense. When I will do that, will be a different story because I need to dig up the old chapters on my old computer so that will be fun.
Anyway, the semester is finally over and I'm on break so I'm hoping to have a new chapter out within the next two weeks or so.
Happy New Year everyone! Enjoy it! I hope everyone is having a good year so far!
As you can see, the rating has now changed. This is due to 's rules on ratings and what counts as M.
Disclaimer: PPG is owned by Cartoon Network, and I'm still just a broke college student. So nothing is new 09there.