This is kind of a shorter chapter, it deals with the aftermath of the kiss and everything. And NO, Torry, Graverobber does not wear pigtails! In fact, he doesn't even wear a shirt for most of this chapter! (You're welcome, my fellow fangirls.) Um, anyway, yeah, that's about it for now.
I DISCLAIM!
"Can we talk about it?"
"What's there to talk about?"
"Are you kidding me right now?"
She shrugged, keeping her eyes trained on her reflection as she wiped her face with a makeup remover wipe. Graverobber threw his hands up, then let them fall to his sides.
"Shilo, you kissed me, for God's sake. You don't think that's worth, oh, I don't know, discussing?"
"There is nothing to discuss! You're making it a bigger deal than it is, I only did it to get a point across to Queen Bitch."
"You don't understand, the last time I kissed someone like that was never."
"What the hell does that even mean? You kissed someone 'like that,' like what?"
"Like...Like...thaaaaaaat!"
"What is thaaaaaaat?"
"Like it actually meant something!"
"Oh my God, Allan, it didn't mean anything! I told you, I said some shit to Amber and I had to drive the point home, that's all it was! Seriously, dude, don't make this weird!"
"Oh, is that what you're worried about? That it'll make things weird if we talk about it? Shilo, you saw me naked, if that didn't make shit weird between us, I don't know what will, and clearly, we've moved on from that little incident, now, haven't we? Kid, our whole damn relationship is weird, okay, we are the very embodiment of the word and all that it entails. Now. Look me and the eyes and tell me you didn't feel it."
Shilo turned around and crossed her arms, staring him directly in the eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
"The hell you don't, Wallace," he replied. "You need me to refresh your memory? I'm talking about this."
He grabbed her face between his hands and crushed his lips against hers. He made absolutely no attempt to be gentle, and Shilo struggled against him for a moment or so before managing to push him away.
"Allan, what the fuck?!" she cried.
"You felt it, didn't you?" he said. "That jolt, that...that feeling, that whatever it was that made the hair on the back of your fucking neck stand straight up!" His voice had risen in volume as he'd spoken, so he was all-out shouting by the time he finished. "Tell me you didn't feel it, Shilo!" he yelled. She stared at him defiantly. He turned and went to the wall in two big strides, then slammed his fist against it as hard as he possibly could.
"Say it, damn you!" he shouted. "Say it!"
She stared at him for a moment longer, then turned and marched out of the room. He heard her go into her bedroom and slam the door. He was about to follow her, but then he heard the lock click, and knew that he wouldn't be seeing her for the next several hours or so. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then shut and locked his own door before he started stripping out of his graverobbing clothes and wiping his makeup off.
"Damn her," he muttered. "Damn her, damn her, damn her! Little bitch can't even—Fucking hell, why do I even care? If she wants to be that way, then fine, that's her business, I ain't—"
He stopped and stared at himself in the mirror, putting the makeup wipe down as he sighed heavily. His makeup was smeared and not entirely off yet, and at the corner of his mouth, the way the lip crayon had smeared and blended with the white made it look as if he had a split lip, a streak of purple going down from his mouth across his cheek towards his jaw.
"God dammit," he whispered to his reflection.
He slowly wiped off the rest of his makeup, then pulled on a pair of jeans and flopped onto the bed, his mind racing. It was all starting to make sense now; the protective feeling, the thoughts, the confusion, the feeling when they'd kissed...all of it. Even what his dad had said to him years ago that he hadn't understood, it was suddenly becoming clear. And it terrified him.
Shilo, meanwhile, had changed into her nightgown and switched out her Graverobbing Wig for her long black one, and she was now curled up on her bed in the fetal position with her back to the door, one hand balled into a fist, biting down on the knuckles to muffle her quiet sobs so he wouldn't hear them through the wall.
Had she felt it—What kind of question was that, of course she'd felt it! It was impossible not to have felt! But she wasn't about to actually admit she'd felt anything, because even if he had felt it, too, there was no way it could possibly lead to anything but disaster for them. Because in her mind, if she admitted that she'd felt it, then she'd have to admit what it meant, what she could no longer lie to herself about, and if she did that, he would laugh at her, she knew he would, and that was something she wouldn't be able to take.
She had wondered even as it was happening what had come over her in the alley, why she'd gotten so aggressive with Amber and possessive over Graverobber, and then she'd kissed him to make Amber believe all of what she'd said, and the answer had suddenly hit her in the face like a ton of bricks. It wasn't just a simple matter of looking out for her friend and having his best interests at heart or wanting what was best for him. It was more than that. It had to do with all the thoughts she'd been having lately, about how he was sexy and had such beautiful blue eyes and all sorts of other things that had come into her head.
It was love.
But there was, of course, no chance that he could possibly return it. He'd told her that he cared about her, but she knew that he meant it only as her friend and nothing more. He'd claimed that the kiss had felt like it actually meant something, but he couldn't have meant it. Because the simple fact of the matter was that while as Allan he may have been much less callous and rough around the edges than he was as Graverobber, that other side of him did still exist, and it seemed as if it existed too strongly to allow him to ever love someone that way.
There was a soft knock at the door, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Shilo?" he called, voice muffled through the door. "Shilo, open the door so we can talk, please?"
"Go away," she said.
"Come on, Shi, don't be that way. I just wanna talk."
"I said go away, Allan."
"Let me in. Please?"
"God dammit, Terrance, I told you to go the fuck away, I don't wanna fucking talk to you right now, you stupid bastard!"
There was a long, drawn out pause, and for a few moments, she thought that he'd given up and left, until he started to softly sing a Blind Mag song through the door. She rolled her eyes.
"If you think that's gonna get me to open up, then you're wrong," she said. "I'm really pissed off at you right now, what part of that is so hard for you to understand?"
He stopped singing.
"I don't know what I did," he replied after a moment, "but whatever it was, I'm sorry."
She got up and slowly walked over to the door, then leaned against it, sliding to the floor and sitting so that her back was against the door and her knees drawn up to her chest. Little did she know that on the other side of the door, he was sitting in much the same fashion, one leg drawn up and the other laying flat straight out in front of him, his arm draped across the knee of the bent leg.
"I don't get why you're trying to make a big deal out of nothing," she said.
She heard him sigh. "Because," he said, "it didn't seem like nothing to me."
"Then what did it seem like?"
"I don't know. Something."
"Like what kind of something?"
"I don't know, okay, just...something."
There was a pause.
"Why'd you do it?" he asked finally.
"Do what?" she countered.
"Kiss me."
Another long pause.
"I told you," she said, "I'd said some shit to Amber and I needed to drive the point home."
"What kind of shit?" he asked. Shilo sighed. God, he was making this so much harder than it had to be.
"Just...some stuff, okay, it doesn't matter."
"...I lied, you know. About my GeneCops chase."
"What do you mean?"
"I didn't lead them into Crow and Jett's territory at all. They chased me as far as the harbor, and then I shoved an old crate into the water to make 'em think I jumped in, and then I hid. The splash distracted them long enough for me to make a run for it without being noticed. I was actually around that corner longer than I let you and Amber think I was."
Shilo was silent as she absorbed this.
"How much did you hear?" she asked finally.
There was another pause.
"Enough," he answered quietly.
After another moment, he asked, "So was she right? Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"...Love me?"
"...As a friend."
"...But that's it?"
"...Yeah. That's it."
Silence.
"Okay," he said, "well...that settles it, then. I guess you're right, I guess it didn't mean anything. I guess I was just imagining things. I just...I could've sworn I felt something, and the look in your eyes made me think that you felt it, too, but I guess I was wrong. Regardless, it was still the best kiss I've had in years."
"You don't mean that."
"You wanna bet? Pretty much every girl I kiss tastes like Zydrate mixed with either cigarette smoke, some kind of alcohol, old gum, tobacco, or some other kind of nastiness, and they're not kissing me because they actually like me, they're kissing me because they're sucking up to me for Zydrate, and a lot of the time, they're either so high or so drunk that they have no fucking clue what they're doing, and their tongues end up going all over the place and getting slobber on me, it's fucking disgusting. But when you kissed me, it was different. It was clean, for one, so that was a nice change, and you weren't high or drunk, and you weren't after Zydrate, and you tasted a gatrillion times better than any of those other girls could ever hope to. Not only that, but you actually managed to make me think that...Nevermind. The point is, I should be thanking you for giving me that change of pace. It was a very nice one, and I really needed it. So...thank you."
Shilo bit her lower lip, picking at a loose thread on the hem of her gown. "What did I taste like?" she asked quietly. On the other side of the door, Graverobber couldn't prevent himself from smiling.
"You tasted like...grapefruit," he said, "and...spearmint...It's funny, that's not really a combination I'd have thought of or that I'd have thought I'd like, but it was...it was surprisingly pleasant. What about me? What did I taste like?"
"You tasted like...green apples and Chinese food."
"What was that combination like? Good or bad?"
"Honestly not as bad as you'd probably think."
"What kind of Chinese food?"
"Orange chicken and chow mein."
"Well, hey, that's the best kind, isn't it?"
She couldn't help but laugh, and the sound coming through the door made him smile.
"You've got a beautiful laugh, you know," he said.
"You're just saying that," she replied.
"No, really. Reminds me a little of my mom's laugh."
There was a pause, and for a moment, he thought that she'd stopped speaking to him again, and his heart began to sink. He sighed quietly.
"What was your mom like?" Shilo asked in a small voice, and his hopes of repairing things between them returned.
"She was great," he said. "Her name was Summer, and I used to think that it was the most beautiful name in the world, and that she was the prettiest woman to ever walk the face of the earth. I guess that's something every little boy thinks about his mother at some point in his life, isn't it? But she...she had beautiful golden blonde hair that was so soft and wavy, and...her eyes were this amazing sea green...She was one of those people who could brighten up a room just by walking into it, you know what I mean? She was just so sweet and friendly to everyone she met, and you just couldn't help but like her. She was the type of person who you just had to smile back at no matter what, and she had such an infectious laugh. You just couldn't help but be happy when she was around. She had such a pretty singing voice. And me and Nick and Natalie...God, she loved us more than anything in the world, and Nick wasn't even actually her kid. I wouldn't have traded her for anything. She died way too soon, and it definitely wasn't the best way to go, but I just thank God that it wasn't a Repo."
"How did it happen?"
"She had epilepsy. It had never really caused her much trouble before, so she never really worried about it as much as she probably should have. It caused a seizure one day, and she hit her head against the mantle of the downstairs fireplace. The official cause of death was ruled as blunt force head trauma. That was also what they attributed the internal bleeding to."
"What about your dad?"
"Liver failure. He was somewhat of an alcoholic."
"I'm guessing you take more after your dad in appearance?"
"And even more after Uncle Zack than him."
There was a pause. After a moment, he could hear the lock turning, and then the door opened just a tiny bit, allowing her to peek out at him. He was surprised to find that she was on the floor, too. She stared at him through the small opening with her wide brown eyes blinking at him. After a moment, she cast her gaze downwards.
"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly.
"God, she's so beautiful," he thought. "What did I ever do to deserve someone like her in my life? She deserves better than all of this. God damn Rotti Largo. God damn that whole family. I hope they all rot and burn in hell, every last fucking one of them. She never did anything to deserve the treatment they've given her, and it's their fault she's an orphan and can't even go out in public as herself."
Dammit, he couldn't keep lying to himself like this. The plain and simple truth of it was that he loved her, and he couldn't go on denying that. And he wanted to tell her, but what would be the point? If what had happened earlier was any indication, then she was far more likely to laugh in his face or get mad at him than she was to believe him, let alone actually return the feelings.
"Aesop said it best," he thought, "'foolish love brings sorrow.' That's what this is. I'm a fool for loving her. It could never happen."
But then again, he'd given himself an idea. Maybe there was a way for him to tell her without actually saying it. It was certainly worth a shot, anyway.
"Shilo," he said, "you wanna hear one of the Fables?"
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, never lifting her gaze.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then began to recite from memory.
"'A Lion,'" he said, "'once fell in love with the fair daughter of a Forester, and demanded her of her father in marriage. The Man dared not refuse, though he would gladly have done so; but he told the suitor that his daughter was so young and delicate, he could consent only after the Lion's teeth were drawn and his claws cut off. The Lion was so enslaved by love that he agreed to this without a murmur, and it was accordingly done. The Forester—'" Here, he faltered, for he knew that if Nathan Wallace were alive and knew about Graverobber's feelings for his daughter, then a similar fate would surely befall him. "'The Forester,'" he continued, "'then seized a club, laid him dead upon the spot, and so broke the match.'"
She looked up at him and met his eyes. For a moment or so, they stared silently at each other. Her dark eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"What's your damage, Allan?" she whispered.
Wordlessly, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, then stood up and went back down the hall to his room. Only after she heard the door close did Shilo allow her tears to fall silently.
Okay, so, um, I'm planning on the birthday chapter being next, and things will kind of resolve themselves, but they also kind of won't, and in a way, they also get worse, but not in the way you might think. ;)
