A couple of days ago VivaGlam wrote an awesome vignette about Jhonen and Laetitia, and she's graciously allowed me to post it for her. Thanks babe! :) You rock, chica ^^
And don't forget to R/R ^_^
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Conversations
By VivaGlam
A Vignette
(Takes place after chapter 26, when the Shadow Alliance is still at the bar)
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Jhonen left the pulsing lights of the dance floor, and headed back to the table that the Shadow Alliance had claimed for themselves, which now was occupied only by Laetitia. Zach was off by himself, making out with a woman in one of the darker reaches of the bar, and Aaron was on the dance floor with Pheonix and Hal, writhing his body in time to the music, his movements sinuous and snakelike, true to his namesake, even if he wasn't doing it intentionally.
Laetitia was dressed in a soft beige silk dress that had a neckline that plunged in a deep curve, sensually, all the way down to her waist, revealing a tempting amount of smooth, dark skin in the process. She had the long limbed grace of a model, and the delicate cheekbones and impossibly full, sensual lips to match. One was rather reminded of Angelina Jolie when looking at her, and he couldn't help but feel intimidated at having to share a table, alone, with the imposing Greek mercenary.
But he was tired, and wanted a break from dancing. So he slid into the seat opposite the Greek woman, and asked her the first question that came to his mind, not wanting to have to face an uncomfortable silence between the two of them. "Aren't you gonna dance?" He asked, hoping that she would agree, and leave the table to him.
"I'm not the dancing type." Her response was simple, and curt.
"Oh." Jhonen was without a proper answer, and he had been searching frantically for something to say, when she downed the rest of the wine cooler that she had been drinking, and got up.
"Let's go." It was not a request, but a command. Jhonen paused, not sure whether to go with Laetitia or not. His instincts told him not to follow her, but she was on his side now, and she wouldn't hurt him - would she?
Laetitia had already gotten up, and was headed towards the entrance of the bar. Before Jhonen knew it, he had stood up from the table, and raced towards her, hoping that he would not lose her in the masses of people crowding the bar. He ducked and weaved around people, and suddenly burst from the dark heat of the bar into the cool night air. Laetitia was waiting for him, looking even more statuesque than usual in her 3-inch high stilettos. He walked up to her, and they crossed the road together, walking to the bar across the street.
Instead of having to show their ID to the bouncers standing outside, the two of them just waltzed through the entrance, largely, in Jhonen's opinion, thanks to Laetitia's sophisticated appearance. They made their way over to the bar, and Laetitia ordered drinks for the two of them. "Bourbon, on the rocks. And a screwdriver." Jhonen gingerly perched himself on a stool next to Laetitia, and took the drink that she had left for him. She took a sip, and started talking. "Tell me, Jhonen, why you left the Guardians."
Jhonen paused, shocked that such a question had come out of seemingly nowhere. "Well…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"Don't lie." She said again, in between sips. She saw Jhonen's hesitation, and continued speaking. "Just tell the truth."
He looked at her. Somehow, that last statement had felt encouraging, and he took it as a sign to be honest. "I felt that Blade wasn't the kind of person that I'd thought he was. He fought for a reason, and he told me that you guys did, too."
No comment from Laetitia. He took that as a sign that he should continue talking, and he did. "I found myself agreeing with what Blade said, and so I decided to come over and give this a go."
"Do you feel that Ryan lied to you?" she asked. This time around, she looked him in the eyes, and he noted, with surprise, that her eyes were a deep violet color. Somehow, he'd never expected that.
"I… don't know. Not really. But in a way, I feel that he shouldn't have made you guys as evil-sounding as he did."
"Because we're not. Is that what you're saying?" She asked.
Jhonen simply nodded. Suddenly, before he could react, almost too quickly for the eye to see, she had gotten off the stool, and enveloped his wrist in an iron grip. She held it up, and leaned in close to him, bending down so she was at his eye level. "We may not be evil Jhonen, but we are dangerous. Never forget that."
She was standing so close to him that he could feel the soft heat of her breath, and they could have rubbed noses with each other, if they wished. He found himself startled, shocked, and fearful at the sudden swiftness and complete unpredictability of the movement, and he was acutely reminded of the fact that he was helpless in such a situation.
Frightened, Jhonen's breath came in quick gasps, his heart pounding, and yet, he could do nothing except look into Laetitia's intense eyes. The few seconds stretched out into an eternity, and Jhonen could almost see his life flash before his eyes. But, just as suddenly as she had him paralyzed in her grip, Laetitia was sitting back in her chair, delicately sipping her bourbon. "I don't blame Ryan, really."
Jhonen rubbed his wrist cautiously, unsure of what he should say. Laetitia had intended to frighten him with her last move, he was certain of that. But what else had she wanted to tell him? He really didn't know.
Meanwhile, Laetitia continued talking, her Grecian accent giving her words just a hint of smoky huskiness. "In order to keep you with him, he used propaganda. He merely wanted the best for you. All the great leaders have done the same thing. Some of the greatest dictators in history have done so. Hitler, for one. He may have only had to go up against the witless fools of the allies and the League of Nations, but he was brilliant when it came to carrying out his plans and agenda. Millions of people, devoted to his cause, because of his propaganda. Many remember him for the genocide that he had attempted, but I remember him for the brilliance of his propaganda techniques. Those were his real weapons. Not armies, not tanks, not submarines. His words."
Jhonen was floored by this open praising of one of the worst men who had ever existed in history. "How could you-" His voice was shrill, and indignant, but before he could stutter out his objection to that observation, Laetitia cut him off.
"Tell me about your childhood, Jhonen."
This sudden change of topic left him speechless. How could one jump from dictators to talking about your childhood? Especially when her opinion was as radical as that. She swiveled around on the stool to face him, and he found himself having to meet her gaze. She leaned back against the counter of the bar, and crossed her legs. To his chagrin, he found himself having a good view down her dress, and his eyes, against his will, followed the line of the soft material draped against her figure, the silk showing only the swell of her breast, and the smooth, toned torso. He knocked back the rest of his cocktail, and swallowed it in an attempt to wet his suddenly dry throat. "If you want to ask about childhoods, then maybe I'm not the best person to ask. Somebody like Benjamin might've been a better choice. Kidnap him, and ask him that all you want."
The look that he got from Laetitia nearly made him wet his pants in fright. And, also, to his dismay, he thought he glimpsed a faint twinkle of amusement in those unfathomable eyes, despite the fact that her lips never moved. "I want to hear about your childhood, Jhonen, not anybody else's."
"C-could I have another drink?" he asked, looking down at his feet in shame, and embarrassment.
"Look at me." He flinched when he saw Laetitia move, but he realized that she had tipped his chin up, and he found himself looking at her. "Tell me, and I'll buy the drink for you."
"Okay." He nodded dumbfoundedly, and started talking. "My mom died when I was 4. I don't really remember her, but my father used to show me pictures. She was beautiful. And then, after my power manifested, well, I saw for myself."
Laetitia ordered another screwdriver for Jhonen, and the bartender placed it in front of Jhonen. "My father was always busy. Working, and all that. I was picked on a lot when I was a kid. Because I was skinny, and smaller than most of the others."
He found Laetitia gently pushing back the sleeve of his shirt, and caressing the smooth skin. He looked into her eyes, and nodded down at the numerous small scars crisscrossing his arms. "That's where those came from. I never had many friends." He looked at Laetitia, and smiled sadly. "Some childhood, huh? Not quite what you wanted to hear."
"How would you know that it wasn't what I wanted to hear?" She whispered softly. Jhonen was about to open his mouth to reply, when she cut him off again. "Tell me the time when you had the most fun in your life. Your most enjoyable memory."
Not for the first time that night, Jhonen found himself lacking an answer. "I… I honestly don't remember."
She seemed to ignore him, and started talking, seeming as if he wasn't there. Her eyes glazed over, and she seemed to withdraw into herself as she recalled her own distant, almost nonexistent childhood. "My happiest memory happened when I was 14. My father told me that I would be going to a cotillion, a ball, or maybe a wealthier version of these school dances that you Americans seem to be so fond of, and to hold in such importance. I was exhilarated, that I'd get to dress up, and wear nice clothes, and go someplace, just for fun. No work, just to spend time with people my age. It was too good to be true, but after all, my father would not betray me like that, would he?"
Her face darkened, and Jhonen found himself cringing slightly. Laetitia's mercurial moods were dangerous, and she was clearly unpredictable. Would she lash out at him, blindly, in her anger? If she did, it was likely that he wouldn't come out unscathed.
"It came time for me to go to the cotillion, and when my father dropped me off, he showed me the photo of another girl, only a few years older than me, and told me to kill her." The hand that was holding her glass of bourbon quivered slightly, and suddenly, the glass shattered in her hand, as she crushed it, unable to contain her fury.
Jhonen stared, once again in shock, at the mess of bourbon, ice, blood, and broken shards of glass in Laetitia's hand. How could she have done that? Laetitia looked dispassionately at the mess in her hand, seemingly oblivious to the pain. Jhonen looked desperately at Laetitia's hand, as it bled profusely, the deep red drops falling to the ground, splattering on the wood. He knew that he was taking a risk, but he leaned forward, and took her hand gently. "Come on. Let's go to the restroom, and clean this up."
He led Laetitia by the hand into the men's restroom, heedless of whether anybody was in there at the moment, and gently dusted the broken glass shards and ice cubes into the sink. He turned the tap on, and put his hand under it, checking the temperature. He then put Laetitia's hand in the lukewarm water, and washed her wounds.
"Hold on." He told her, and took off the black shirt he wore, revealing the white shirt that he wore underneath it. He tore it into pieces, and began removing the shards of glass embedded in Laetitia's hand, and began using moistened pieces of the paper towel to clean the wounds, before tying the torn strips of black cloth to her hand, binding it. "This might hurt a little."
But Laetitia never flinched, and stood watching his ministrations with an almost tender look in her eyes. The boy had been terrified of her, and yet, such tenderness. "Tell me why you joined the Shadow Alliance, Jhonen." Her voice was softer now, silkier.
He finished tying her bandages, and looked at her incredulously. "I thought I told you just now." They began walking out of the restroom, and headed back towards the bar. He got the look from Laetitia again, and he sighed.
Jhonen paused, trying to dig deeper, to find something to tell Laetitia. One part of him felt that there was absolutely nothing to tell her, but deep down inside, he knew better. And he knew that Laetitia would never have asked if he didn't have anything to say. He'd learned that everybody had a motive for everything they did, and surely somebody like Laetitia was not exception.
So, he took a deep breath, and started. "I didn't want to fight anymore. Not for a race that didn't want my help. Not for people that don't deserve it. Not for people who are ungrateful, for people who wanted nothing else but to kill me. I just couldn't go on fighting with the Guardians against you guys for the humans. Not when it wasn't worth it…" His words grew softer and softer, until he just trailed off into silence.
Laetitia stopped, and turned Jhonen around, firmly, but gently. She guided him to a nearby seat, and pushed him into it, before sitting down herself. She leaned forward, until their noses were nearly touching, just like they had been only few short moments ago, and looked deep into Jhonen's dark eyes. For once, he noted, her own violet ones were not hard and unreadable, but instead, were warm, and tainted with pain, just like his own. "You're ashamed, Jhonen. You don't want to admit that you left the Guardians because you didn't want to be selfless and heroic anymore, and you're ashamed of it. This culture has taught you to be good and kind, and you can't be good and kind. Not anymore."
He found himself wanting, desperately, to look away, and yet, he couldn't; entranced as he was by Laetitia. Dangerous, unpredictable, lovely, irresistible Laetitia, who was so infallible, and so right when she had explained everything to him. She'd hit the nail right on the head, and it was frightening.
"Jhonen, there's nothing wrong with that. Not everybody can be good, and kind, and heroic, as we've been taught to be. Let brave, foolish people like Ryan and the other Guardians do that."
Doubt clouded his vision for a few moments, but that quickly disappeared, and his vision focused into a frighteningly sharp, objective clarity that he hadn't felt in ages. Laetitia saw his eyes light up, and knew that she had succeeded. For the first time, ever, in all her time with the Shadow Alliance, Laetitia smiled. Really, truly, smiled, in all it's genuine warmth.
Jhonen smiled back at Laetitia, but before he could say anything, she stood up, and lightly caressed his cheek with one finger. "Let's go. We should get back before the others start wondering where we've disappeared to."
He was stunned, once again, but already, he found himself getting used to all this. Shaking his head, he too stood up, and followed Laetitia out of the bar, back to where the others were busy dancing the night away.
