AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's a rough draft, but I figured I could get it down
on paper. Please R&R, no flames – constructive criticism only! You can
disagree with me, but do it respectfully, please. Thanks for all your
comments on my first story (the Larry/Ren shipper fic, which I will add
more to as soon as finals are over) – let me know what you think of the
second one.
Ren settled down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and one of her favorite videos. She hadn't been able to take a moment for herself in some time, but now with her parents visiting relatives, Donny at the gym, and Louis – well, who knew where Louis was. Probably off with Twitty pulling some sort of random prank on an unsuspecting victim. Where ever he was, he was out of her hair, and it was time for some deep relaxation . . .
. . . Which is why the doorbell was ringing?! She tried to ignore it, but whoever it was didn't get the hint. One ring after another sounded through the empty house as she persistently tried to keep her focus from the incessant sound. It wasn't working. Exasperated, Ren threw down the remote and stomped over to the entryway, ready to give the visitor a piece of her mind. Flinging the door open, she set her glare to maximum.
Twitty stood on the front step looking toward the street. She glanced past him, searching for Louis but couldn't directly see him. Raising an eyebrow as he turned to face her, she curtly questioned, "What do you want?"
A bit surprised at her reception, he recovered quickly and replied, "Oh, I was just looking for Louis – is he around?"
She narrowed her eyes, trying to find the joke in all of this as Twitty looked past her into the house. Not only were they ruining the only afternoon that she'd had free in months, they thought it was funny. Well, she wouldn't stand for that. Calling him on his joke, she spat, "Oh, I don't know, Twitty. Why don't you tell me where he is? You two are as thick as thieves, aren't you?"
Confused, he tried to reply. "Well, I guess, but I thought that I was supposed to meet him here–"
"Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?" Ren cut him off. "Here I am, trying to have a peaceful afternoon and all you two can think of to do with your pathetic little minds is bother me! Do you know how LONG it's been since I . . ." She slowly trailed off, noticing the pure bewilderment that was painted on his face. For a minute she doubted, still believing it was a trick, but her conscious got the better of her, and she realized how entirely rude she was being; he didn't deserve this tongue-lashing. "Oh my God, Twitty," she breathed in apology. "I am SO sorry. I didn't think that – well, look," she suggested, "why don't you come in and wait? I'm sure Louis'll be back soon."
Twitty glanced at her uncertainly, wondering if she was going to start lecturing him again. She read his thoughts and tried to reassure him. "Twitty," she said deeply, "I really am sorry. I didn't know. Why don't you just come in, and . . . you can watch my movie with me –" she stepped back as he brushed past her into the living room. "Or wait in Louis's room or . . ." She shook her head and smiled. As soon as he heard the title of the movie, he'd be playing video games in Louis's room within the nanosecond, and she would be alone again, ready to relax.
"So, what are we watching?" Twitty stood in the middle of the room, rubbing his hands together in mock anticipation. Ren walked over to the couch, picked up the video case, and tossed it to him. "Gone with the Wind?" She hid a smile, almost sensing the disappointment in his voice. "Cool!" he exclaimed, contrary to what she had though he would do. "My mom has this movie; she watches it all the time."
"Oookay . . ." Ren shook her head, befuddled, watching as Alan took over her couch, her popcorn, and her movie. Plopping down beside him, she hit the play button and tried her best to sink into the movie . . .
Two and a half hours later, Twitty was still hording her popcorn and talking loudly to the characters on the screen. Sighing, she glanced over at him, wondering where her brother was. 'Wow,' she thought to herself, 'I never thought I'd be counting the minutes until I could see Louis again.' She smiled at the thought, looking again in Alan's direction. He noticed, peeking over at her through the corners of his eyes. Gulping down his mouthful of popcorn with a sip of soda, he wondered if she wanted to actually discuss the movie while watching it. He knew Ren was weird like that, very intellectual and stuff.
Clearing his throat, he attempted to make small talk. "Scarlett has such a strong character, you know?" He looked over at her, hoping she wouldn't verbally lash out at him again. Instead of an onslaught of insults, she seemed mildly shocked, so he continued. "It's interesting how they contrasted her with Melly." He nervously stuffed another handful of popcorn in his mouth to stop himself from saying anything further. To Twitty, Ren seemed perfect; she had a characteristic that sometimes made him feel small and inconsequential.
She was amazed at his insight. That a friend of Louis's could have much to say about anything (other than Tawny, of course), well, it impressed her. Gathering her thoughts, she replied quickly, "Yeah, you're right." Pausing, she tried to come up with a more detailed response. "It's as though they're telling the audience that if you're a woman you must be strong and use sex as a weapon or be soft and let men dominate you. There doesn't seem to be much middle ground." She felt as though she was babbling, so she turned the conversation back to him, "What do you think?"
"Well," he began, "I think that it might have been the case back then, but today, women can be both forceful and soft. You've seemed to achieve that balance, anyway." He shrugged, feeling as though he'd revealed something, but wasn't quite sure what. Shifting into a different position on the couch, he risked a swift glance in her direction.
Ren sat slightly open-mouthed, completely taken back by his words. That was, by far, the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Sure, her parents constantly told her that they were proud of her, but it was so often that their response seemed automatic and held no actual feeling for her. On the other hand, this boy didn't have to say anything nice or charming to her, yet he did. She didn't know what to say or if she should even say anything, yet she felt compelled to respond. "Twitty, I – well, what I mean is – that was probably the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
"Yeah, well," he shrugged again, taking another chug of his soda. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned his head toward her. Everything about her was so perfect: the way her hair fell around her, her manicured nails, even the mistiness of her almost-tears glittering in her eyes. He gazed up at her face, feeling like a complete moron. Suddenly, he had an urge to touch her, to feel her silky hair in his fingers. Reaching out, he ran his hand across the smooth locks, drawing her closer to him.
The heat of Twitty's breath on Ren's lips sent a shiver down her spine. Longing for him to make the next move, she tried not to think of how they were connected, how he was younger than she was, how he was her brother's best friend. Ren didn't want to realize these things right now; she just wanted to feel the sweat of his palms on her cool shoulders as he caressed her skin. She closed her eyes, giving into the sensations, finding his lips, tasting them, touching them, his teeth grinding against hers in inexperience. His mouth was moist, slipping over her own. Pulling away, she sighed his name, but upon hearing her voice, all the things she fought to avoid came rushing back to her. She mentally put up a wall against her emotions, her body stiffening in response. Twitty felt this change and loosened his grasp on her, tenderly kissing her lower lip.
"Twitty," Ren began more evenly than she felt, "I don't know what . . ." She paused, grasping for some sort of control amidst the confusion inside of her. "Twitty, I think you should probably leave now." She raised her eyes to his.
He understood why she was asking him to go, yet he still felt vastly disappointed, not with her but with himself. Confused, he searched her face for some sort of sign that would tell him what he did wrong or if he was out of line. He saw nothing in the gentle curve of her lips that would give him any clue as to what his reaction should be. He looked away, giving a soft "okay," in reply.
She sat on the couch as he walked around her and out the front door. She forced herself not to watch him go, not to follow him, not to ask him to come back. Hearing the door shut behind him, she got up and walked over to the front entrance. She paused, resting her hand against the doorknob. Turning her back to the door, she let herself slide down to the ground, gripping her knees to her chest. She still had the taste of him on her lips, root beer and popcorn. Leaning her head against her hands, she began to devise a strategy to forget about the afternoon. She hoped it would be easy to follow . . .
DO YOU WANT MORE? Like Ren and Twitty as a couple? R&R or email me!
Ren settled down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and one of her favorite videos. She hadn't been able to take a moment for herself in some time, but now with her parents visiting relatives, Donny at the gym, and Louis – well, who knew where Louis was. Probably off with Twitty pulling some sort of random prank on an unsuspecting victim. Where ever he was, he was out of her hair, and it was time for some deep relaxation . . .
. . . Which is why the doorbell was ringing?! She tried to ignore it, but whoever it was didn't get the hint. One ring after another sounded through the empty house as she persistently tried to keep her focus from the incessant sound. It wasn't working. Exasperated, Ren threw down the remote and stomped over to the entryway, ready to give the visitor a piece of her mind. Flinging the door open, she set her glare to maximum.
Twitty stood on the front step looking toward the street. She glanced past him, searching for Louis but couldn't directly see him. Raising an eyebrow as he turned to face her, she curtly questioned, "What do you want?"
A bit surprised at her reception, he recovered quickly and replied, "Oh, I was just looking for Louis – is he around?"
She narrowed her eyes, trying to find the joke in all of this as Twitty looked past her into the house. Not only were they ruining the only afternoon that she'd had free in months, they thought it was funny. Well, she wouldn't stand for that. Calling him on his joke, she spat, "Oh, I don't know, Twitty. Why don't you tell me where he is? You two are as thick as thieves, aren't you?"
Confused, he tried to reply. "Well, I guess, but I thought that I was supposed to meet him here–"
"Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?" Ren cut him off. "Here I am, trying to have a peaceful afternoon and all you two can think of to do with your pathetic little minds is bother me! Do you know how LONG it's been since I . . ." She slowly trailed off, noticing the pure bewilderment that was painted on his face. For a minute she doubted, still believing it was a trick, but her conscious got the better of her, and she realized how entirely rude she was being; he didn't deserve this tongue-lashing. "Oh my God, Twitty," she breathed in apology. "I am SO sorry. I didn't think that – well, look," she suggested, "why don't you come in and wait? I'm sure Louis'll be back soon."
Twitty glanced at her uncertainly, wondering if she was going to start lecturing him again. She read his thoughts and tried to reassure him. "Twitty," she said deeply, "I really am sorry. I didn't know. Why don't you just come in, and . . . you can watch my movie with me –" she stepped back as he brushed past her into the living room. "Or wait in Louis's room or . . ." She shook her head and smiled. As soon as he heard the title of the movie, he'd be playing video games in Louis's room within the nanosecond, and she would be alone again, ready to relax.
"So, what are we watching?" Twitty stood in the middle of the room, rubbing his hands together in mock anticipation. Ren walked over to the couch, picked up the video case, and tossed it to him. "Gone with the Wind?" She hid a smile, almost sensing the disappointment in his voice. "Cool!" he exclaimed, contrary to what she had though he would do. "My mom has this movie; she watches it all the time."
"Oookay . . ." Ren shook her head, befuddled, watching as Alan took over her couch, her popcorn, and her movie. Plopping down beside him, she hit the play button and tried her best to sink into the movie . . .
Two and a half hours later, Twitty was still hording her popcorn and talking loudly to the characters on the screen. Sighing, she glanced over at him, wondering where her brother was. 'Wow,' she thought to herself, 'I never thought I'd be counting the minutes until I could see Louis again.' She smiled at the thought, looking again in Alan's direction. He noticed, peeking over at her through the corners of his eyes. Gulping down his mouthful of popcorn with a sip of soda, he wondered if she wanted to actually discuss the movie while watching it. He knew Ren was weird like that, very intellectual and stuff.
Clearing his throat, he attempted to make small talk. "Scarlett has such a strong character, you know?" He looked over at her, hoping she wouldn't verbally lash out at him again. Instead of an onslaught of insults, she seemed mildly shocked, so he continued. "It's interesting how they contrasted her with Melly." He nervously stuffed another handful of popcorn in his mouth to stop himself from saying anything further. To Twitty, Ren seemed perfect; she had a characteristic that sometimes made him feel small and inconsequential.
She was amazed at his insight. That a friend of Louis's could have much to say about anything (other than Tawny, of course), well, it impressed her. Gathering her thoughts, she replied quickly, "Yeah, you're right." Pausing, she tried to come up with a more detailed response. "It's as though they're telling the audience that if you're a woman you must be strong and use sex as a weapon or be soft and let men dominate you. There doesn't seem to be much middle ground." She felt as though she was babbling, so she turned the conversation back to him, "What do you think?"
"Well," he began, "I think that it might have been the case back then, but today, women can be both forceful and soft. You've seemed to achieve that balance, anyway." He shrugged, feeling as though he'd revealed something, but wasn't quite sure what. Shifting into a different position on the couch, he risked a swift glance in her direction.
Ren sat slightly open-mouthed, completely taken back by his words. That was, by far, the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Sure, her parents constantly told her that they were proud of her, but it was so often that their response seemed automatic and held no actual feeling for her. On the other hand, this boy didn't have to say anything nice or charming to her, yet he did. She didn't know what to say or if she should even say anything, yet she felt compelled to respond. "Twitty, I – well, what I mean is – that was probably the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
"Yeah, well," he shrugged again, taking another chug of his soda. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned his head toward her. Everything about her was so perfect: the way her hair fell around her, her manicured nails, even the mistiness of her almost-tears glittering in her eyes. He gazed up at her face, feeling like a complete moron. Suddenly, he had an urge to touch her, to feel her silky hair in his fingers. Reaching out, he ran his hand across the smooth locks, drawing her closer to him.
The heat of Twitty's breath on Ren's lips sent a shiver down her spine. Longing for him to make the next move, she tried not to think of how they were connected, how he was younger than she was, how he was her brother's best friend. Ren didn't want to realize these things right now; she just wanted to feel the sweat of his palms on her cool shoulders as he caressed her skin. She closed her eyes, giving into the sensations, finding his lips, tasting them, touching them, his teeth grinding against hers in inexperience. His mouth was moist, slipping over her own. Pulling away, she sighed his name, but upon hearing her voice, all the things she fought to avoid came rushing back to her. She mentally put up a wall against her emotions, her body stiffening in response. Twitty felt this change and loosened his grasp on her, tenderly kissing her lower lip.
"Twitty," Ren began more evenly than she felt, "I don't know what . . ." She paused, grasping for some sort of control amidst the confusion inside of her. "Twitty, I think you should probably leave now." She raised her eyes to his.
He understood why she was asking him to go, yet he still felt vastly disappointed, not with her but with himself. Confused, he searched her face for some sort of sign that would tell him what he did wrong or if he was out of line. He saw nothing in the gentle curve of her lips that would give him any clue as to what his reaction should be. He looked away, giving a soft "okay," in reply.
She sat on the couch as he walked around her and out the front door. She forced herself not to watch him go, not to follow him, not to ask him to come back. Hearing the door shut behind him, she got up and walked over to the front entrance. She paused, resting her hand against the doorknob. Turning her back to the door, she let herself slide down to the ground, gripping her knees to her chest. She still had the taste of him on her lips, root beer and popcorn. Leaning her head against her hands, she began to devise a strategy to forget about the afternoon. She hoped it would be easy to follow . . .
DO YOU WANT MORE? Like Ren and Twitty as a couple? R&R or email me!
