This will most likely be the last chapter before the upgrade, though there may be one more.
Thank you all very much for the reviews! There may be other OddxZephyr stories to come should I think of them, maybe a sequel or a one-shot epilogue to this one. Sports the award with immense pride
Okay, one last thing before chapter 8. I've decided that since I have lots of free time on my hands that I will be taking story requests on a first come, first serve basis. Requests will be taken until January 4th. After that I will continue to work on requests but no new ones will be taken until I finish the current ones. Ask by leaving a review on here and tell me what categories, rating, characters, what age the characters are, basic plot, etc.(title not necessary) I will NOT do a "LOTR" or "Harry Potter" requests (I have no interest in them). No rating above T, possibly M (depends on why). If you want to use Zephyr or Jack in one of your own fics, please ask me in a review. You MUST give me credit for their characters at least in an author's note at the beginning of the chapter in which they are introduced.
Any what, loyal readers, without further delay:
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Chapter 8: September
Zephyr was fourteen now, and the last two years had been a living Hell. She'd maintained a friendship with Ulrich, Yumi, Aelita, and Jeremie, but things between her and Odd would seemingly never be the same.
Yumi, Zephyr, and Aelita had grown from girls to women. Their hips had widened, they'd hit a growth spurt, and they'd begun to experience heavier onslaughts of intense emotions. Aelita found herself harboring romantic feelings for Jeremie, and Yumi was experiencing a rather oversized crush on Ulrich. Zephyr was holding back similar feelings for Odd, though it drove her insane that she wasn't able to express them and have the feelings returned like Aelita and Yumi were.
Ulrich, Odd, and even Jeremie were maturing. Their voices were deepening. Ulrich's was the most bass, while Odd's was to remain a tenor. Jeremie would be somewhere between the two, though for the time being his voice was going through a horrible, more severe than most, squeaky stage. Jeremie and Ulrich gladly returned Aelita's and Yumi's feelings. Odd had the same problem with Zephyr; he wasn't able to express his feelings verbally, though he yearned to. The boys hit their growth spurts in time, naturally theirs came later than those of the girls. They were just a little taller than their female counterparts.
However, despite the emotions rocketing around inside their bodies the six teens stayed close friends. One late September night they decided to go stargazing once again. It had remained high on their exclusive list of favorite activities. So there they were, enjoying one of the last light-jacket days of the year. Jeremie and Aelita were lying off by themselves and the same held true for Ulrich and Yumi, leaving Odd and Zephyr in a similar position. They lay beside each other, sighing once in a while, each wishing the same thing.
'I wish this would end.'
"Odd," Zephyr's voice had retained its classic husky quality, and had developed more into a wind chime like tone somewhere between soprano and alto, "You were wrong."
"How?" He rolled over on his stomach and looked at her, confused.
"Wishing stars don't work. They never worked." She stared at the stars, eyes so watery that Odd could see the points of light reflect in her gray orbs. Zephyr had one leg bent at the knee, the other straight out. Her view of the stars was blocked by her friend's broad, caring face as he leaned over her. He wasn't straddling her, just leaning over her in a manner that was similar to if they had been standing and at the same height, looking eye to eye.
"You had to come into my life somehow," He whispered, noting how corny it sounded. He had his hands on her wrists, gently and playfully pinning her to the cool September grass. She swallowed. His face was so innocent and gentle.
"Odd…I have to go home." when he didn't move save for decreasing the distance between their faces so that they could feel each other's breath brush their faces with tingling fingers, she panicked, just a little. "Odd, lemme up, this isn't funny!" Sadness tainted his voice.
"Not until you tell me," He whispered. The September moon beams found his face, giving it a ghostly pale blue glow and the September wind sighed softly in their ears.
"Tell you what?" Her voice was soft now too, and this time Odd did not resist the impulse to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The simple action of his fingers brushing against her soft, pale face made her heart pound in her throat. He replied, seeming to her as close as the September grass yet as far away as the September stars. He was as palpable as September tears and as insensible as September moonbeams.
"Tell me why," He breathed, the volume of their voices decreasing until Zephyr feared she wouldn't be able to hear him. "Tell me why you're getting beat up." The teenage girl realized that she was in no position to refuse; if she did he could kiss her, though she didn't believe he would, and that would confuse things further, and she couldn't be that attached to him. So, she finally, after all the years of burdens, gave up.
"I'm getting beat up because I go home everyday," Hear voice was hushed and barely audible; she felt that he could hear her heart beat, "And there's someone waiting for me. He's waiting to hit me. He's waiting right now to scream at me. Right now he's sitting there, swigging away at a bottle of whiskey and getting ready to hit me. As we speak, Odd, someone is waiting to remind me that I'm a worthless animal." She finished, and didn't notice the tears falling into the grass that swayed slightly in the moonlight. Zephyr also didn't notice that there was a hand, barely connecting with her face, brushing away the salty water droplets. She was numb to Odd still holding her bruised wrists and even to his lips brushing softly against her forehead, and to being lifted off the September grass and against her trusted friend.
Odd sat there, holding her protectively in his arms, rocking her back and forth. He was in shock, and that had let the floodgates to his emotions open. Thus, he had brushed his lips against her forehead and then pulled back, just a little, in surprise at himself. Yet he saw her looking up at him, pent up sorrow escaping her in the form of tears that should have been shed long ago.
"You just cry. You just cry it all out, pretty girl," He murmured in her ear. She leaned heavily on him, letting her salty tears of desperation stain his shirt and dribble down his chest.
"Don't let him hit me again," She pleaded, over and over, "Don't let him hit me again."
"Shhh, it's alright. I'm not going to let him hurt you. He can't touch you. Not ever again," He comforted, letting the bridges of his knuckles ran down her face.
After a while her crying subsided and she lay there, exhausted. He was tired, but not nearly enough to lull him into a sleep. Instead he kept holding onto her, lips resting on her dark hair.
"I won't let him hurt you," He promised into her ear, "He's not going to put another mark on you. I swear by it." He couldn't help smiling at his crush's conclusion that wishing stars didn't work. He turned his head skyward, and he whispered to the September sky,
"I wish for her to be okay."