Disclaimer: domestic violence/mention of alcohol and drug abuse
Hayley Williams - Sudden Desire
"I wanted him to kiss me how. With open mouth and open mouth, we keep our distance now. I wanna feel his hands go down."
"Isabella! I'm sorry!" My mother's slurred cries followed me even as I closed her bedroom door and slowly walked down the stairs. By the time I made it to the landing, I couldn't hear her anymore, and I knew she was done for the rest of the day. Thank god...
I'm fuming. I've never felt such hot rage like this before, but I couldn't control it. The only way I can keep it under control is by keeping my mouth shut just so I don't yell at my drunk mother upstairs, who left our kitchen in such a mess.
Sharp shards of glass were scattered everywhere I looked. All the dishes we had on the cupboards had been shattered. I'd made it home in time to see the whole show—the sound of glass shattering and hysterical giggles spurring me into the house without thinking better of it. I'd been so scared she hurt herself, mistaking her laughter for sobs.
That had been stupid of me.
My mother welcomed me home by throwing my favorite mug right at me as soon as I entered the kitchen. I'd been lucky it hadn't hit me right in the face when I ducked in time and glass flew over my head on impact when the mug shattered against the wall behind me.
She was barefoot. A mess—like always—but the shards around her frightened me. I carefully swept them aside with my shoes to make a path before convincing her to go upstairs for a nap. It had taken longer than necessary to haul her upstairs when she started dancing and prattling on about her dreams of being a singer on Broadway when she'd been a child.
I didn't waste my time to tell her that I was still a child and I'd pretty much had been robbed of ever dreaming. What child has time to dream when she's too busy cleaning up after her mother's vomit on the couch every night and trying to learn to feed and clothe herself because he father is rarely home? Not this girl.
I swallowed down the rage I felt and replaced it with the same numb feeling that always followed, cooling down the blood that boiled in my veins.
I got started on sweeping the floor with the broom and gathered the shards in trash bags I double bagged. If an animal rummaged through our trash bins one night or the waste collectors came to pick it up for the week, I didn't want them getting hurt. Better to be safe than sorry.
I was gathering up the last few shards when the sound of our front door slamming shut made me jump.
I remained in my spot, kneeling in the corner beside the end of the counter by the window, when I heard my father's boots trudging down the hall. When he appeared in the kitchen doorway, he granted me a sideways glance—assessing the mess around me that looked a lot better now than it had an hour ago. Not that he cared about any of that.
"She still up?" He asked gruffly.
I look away from him and sweep the glass onto the dustpan. I stand and make my way over to the bags, "I think so. You might want to get her in the shower," my tone was cold and detached. I didn't make an effort to hide my disdain for my father, "She reeks of alcohol."
"She always reeks, Isabella. Honestly, I'm surprised the woman is still alive at this rate." Charlie sighs as he walks over to the fridge and grabs a beer.
He catches my grimace as he pops the cap off, "What? She can drink, and I can't?"
"By the smell of things you've been drinking way before coming home." I retort under my breath.
Charlie stops before he can wander into the living room and looks over his shoulder, "What did you say?"
Of course, he had to hear that.
I tie the bag and chuck it into the overflowing trash can.
I can feel the exhaustion rolling off me in waves as I brace my hands on the counter. It's going to be okay. Just tell him how you feel.
As much as I loved my parents, when they got in their "moods," as I used to call it, they were equally unpredictable in how they chose to lash out at each other. Lately, it seems to be throwing things at each other. Well, that was Renee's preferred choice anyway. Charlie? He chose a more effective way.
I don't look up as he turns around to face me, "I asked you a question."
I shift on my feet, staring at my worn converse shoes. I let the anger inside me reignite as I glare at my father, "You heard me."
Charlie's lips curl into a sneer, "You think I wanted this to happen? For her to become some addict who can barely make it through the morning? I've tried my best for a long time to tolerate her behavior. I'm trying—"
"You know dad, trying isn't the same as storming out every time she gets difficult." I scoff. "Trying is being here and getting her help!"
I know I shouldn't be raising my voice at him. I know it'll only anger him and make him storm out, but how else can I make him understand? I'm so frustrated. Being home is exhausting. All I want is for my mother to get the help she needs and for my father to seeme. Why is that so hard? "Where are you on the days she is so far gone that she can barely walk? Or when she's breaking every dish in the house? Do you know what it's like for me to find her this way every day after school?"
"It's always about you, isn't it?" Charlie sneers, slamming his beer down on the countertop.
I grit my teeth and close my hands into fists, letting the feelings of my nails biting into my palms to steel me. If only so I don't try to slam some sense into my father. "It's never about me..."
He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Isabella, please I already have one drama queen upstairs. I don't need you to turn against me too. All I want is a beer and to relax!"
Tears sting my eyes but I blink them away. I'm not sad. I'm angry, so angry that I don't think before I speak up again and I know my words are laced in venom, "Relax?! Who can relax in this hellhole? This isn't a house anymore. We're not a family or anything at this rate! If you want that to change I suggest you look into fixing your wife first." I try to push past him but he steps forward and I watch as my father's face contorts into one of rage.
"Watch your mouth. You don't know anything, you brat."
"I know I can take care of mom way better than you ever could. You're just bitter because she cheated on you and want to get back at her."
The sharp sting that landed across my cheek was unexpected, sending me stumbling back until I lose my balance and fall onto the tiled floor of the kitchen with a hard slam. I taste something warm and metallic in my mouth and the pain radiating across my face follows suit like a wave of scalding water being poured over me.
I'm dazed, blinking rapidly to catch up to what the hell just happened. I lift myself up and sit, grateful I'd cleaned up the glass before I fell is not, I had a feeling I would have been the one with cuts all over my face and hands. Unlike my mother. Facing my father's stunned face, I noticed every muscle in his body lock up as he realized at the same time I did what he'd done.
He hit me?
Charlie takes a step forward, his mouth opening and closing as remorse floods his brown eyes and his face pales.
I stare at the hand that was still stretched out in front of him. The hand that slapped me.
My father hit me...
"Is...Bella, I'm–" He struggles to find the words. If he says them, I can't hear it because I could feel and hear my wild heartbeat pounding in my ears and over my cheek. His hand lands on my shoulder as I stand on shaky legs and I instantly shove him away. "God, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to–"
"Don't!" I shove him away, slapping my palms over his chest hard enough to make him stumble back. I glare at him as I cup my cheek. I spew the words out through gritted teeth as tears fill my eyes, making the man I once loved more than anything in the world become nothing but a blurred figure of a stranger I never wanted to know, "Don't touch me!"
I storm out of the kitchen, ignoring his apologies as he follows me out into the hall. I don't want him to touch me again. I'm too angry and stunned to even consider letting him lay another hand on me again. This is too much. I'm so tired of this! I need...What do I need? I barely register what I'm doing until I'm storming out of the front door and taking the steps two at a time.
Apparently, I'm doing the one thing I'm good at now.
Running away.
Oh, I ran alright.
I ran until I suddenly found myself in a very familiar neighborhood. A way nicer one almost on the other side of town it seemed. My legs were wobbly and my pants came in deep gulps as my lungs desperately begged for air. I didn't care about that. Not when I was starting at the familiar apartment building where I thought a southern stranger lived. No, he wasn't a stranger anymore. Not when the certain face of a brooding, stoic professor flashed across my vision, nearly sending me spinning the same way my heart and mind were right now.
This was where Jasper Whitlock lived. I knew this because the morning I snuck out of his apartment, I couldn't help but look at the name of the complex, imprinting it into my mind almost as much as the best night and sex of my life had taken place in this very building.
It may have been because I all but lost my mind today or the throbbing on the side of my head was telling me I had a concussion, but I was moving before I realized what I was doing. The complex required a number on a keypad to which I was sure the tenants needed to buzz you up to allow whoever wanted to pay them a visit a pass inside. Luckily for me, I slipped in behind a nice older couple who were all too consumed by each other's warm, loving gazes to notice me. I pretty much blended into the corner of the elevator, pressing my back into the cool metal behind said couple until they stepped out.
This was definitely a bad idea! I should be going to Rosalie or Jake's to tell them what happened, to be completely honest with them about all the shitty, messed-up things my parents have been doing in our home. I should be home to take care of Renee...
But I don't want to. I don't want to think about any of that. I don't want to go back home to listen to another fight or half-assed apologies from Charlie. I just wanted to be away from it all...
The only one I wanted to see now, the only one with who I'd ever let myself feel truly free, was Jasper.
Does that make me selfish?
My knees bounced nervously as I stared down at my soaked converse.
This is a mistake...
I don't even know why I'm here in the first place! This is insane and totally uncalled for. I'm basically asking for someone to find out what happened between me and Jasper by being here. What if he gets pissed and tells me to go away? That would be embarrassing.
I waited a few more minutes, my eyes flickering from the apartment door to my cellphone that I had clutched in my hands.
If he's not here in the next 5 minutes...
Hearing my own desperate voice pissed me off more than anything else did today. I groaned. My cheek still throbbed from Charlie's slap, and I wanted to ice it—erase today from my memory for good. I was about to stand up, thinking I was just about the dumbest person alive, when Jasper walked around the corner down the hall with his briefcase in hand. He stopped short as he recognized me, soaked to the bone and probably looking worse for ware right about now. I didn't miss the concerned look he gave me, but I ignored what it did to me. Those damned eyes of his...
I only looked up when he stepped up to his door with his keys in hand. He didn't say anything to me for a long while, unlocking his door quickly and pushing it open. I half expected him to stride in and slam his door in my face, but he didn't do that either.
He let out a deep sigh as he motioned towards his apartment, "Get in."
I didn't know what to say, so I simply stood up and bit my bottom lip, wincing when I realized it had been split open. My face was on fire, and I knew it wasn't because of the slap I'd taken earlier. Not when Jasper was looking at me the way he was now. With an intensity I recognized when we'd slept together or whenever he caught me staring at him in the hallway at school. It was lust and longing, the same one I'd felt for him time and time again. Only this time, there was something else there. Whatever he was thinking made his blue eyes appear darker as he frowned. Was it anger? Annoyance? He must think I'm desperate for his attention or that I'm mixed up in something bad. He must think I'm a complete idiot...
All my insecurities were pretty much out in the open now, and I was just waiting for him to reject me—to tell me to go away and leave him alone for good.
Jasper's eyes looked me up and down as I warily followed him through the entrance. I took a few deep breaths, my chest rising and falling heavily against the hoodie that stuck to me like a second layer of skin. I hated wearing wet clothes so much.
He let out a sigh before slowly placing his briefcase on the table in the hall. As he started passing me, he took me completely by surprise when he said, "I don't know if I have a change of clothes for you that'll fit but we can look."
I blinked, staring up at him in surprise, "You're not...mad that I'm here?"
Jasper's lips quirked up as his eyes traced the right side of my face.
"No, I'm not mad that you're here, Isabella," he paused and looked over his shoulder as he passed me, "But we will have a talk after you get changed."
I sighed as he walked into the living room and disappeared into his bedroom. The bedroom where we'd fucked for hours. My legs tingled at the thought of that night and I shook my head at myself for having such stupid fantasies about my professor when the man only wanted to help me out. This was a mistake...
And yet, why aren't I running out that door?
"It'll take an hour or so till your clothes are dry," He murmured as he walked out of his small laundry room. After he'd insisted I change into a pair of sweats, Jasper showed me where the washer and dryer were in one of the spare rooms and left me to wash my wet clothes. He never once seemed angry or annoyed that I was here invading his space so I was grateful if a little embarrassed to be doing this to him. But now that I was waiting for my clothes to dry...Jasper jumped right into his promised talk we were going to have.
I sat on his large leather couch, wrapping my arms around my knees as I stared down at the soft grey sweater he'd lent me—the material was loose and engulfed me with Jasper's scent that filled the rest of the apartment. I loved the way he smelled. Pine and cinnamon soothed me more than I thought any scent would. It was so him.
As he walked around the couch behind me, I noticed he'd taken his suit jacket off and undid his tie—leaving him with just a pale blue button-up shirt that exposed his collarbone. All his clothes looked as if they'd been created to fit his muscular body. I envied him, or maybe I envied the shirt that hugged him so tightly. Damn it.
He handed me a mug of what I assumed was tea because I noticed the bag floating on the surface, turning the water a green color. The wonderful aroma of mint and honey caressed my face and relaxed me in the process. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table. His large hand motioned towards my mug, looking calmer than I felt. When he eyed my hands fidgeting with the handle of the cup, I stopped.
"Drink."
"Why are you so bossy?" I asked as I crossed my legs.
Jasper flashed me a mirthless grin, "Last I recall you liked me bossing you around." I flushed and took a long sip of my tea, the hot liquid warming up my whole body after getting drenched in the rain.
I stared at him for a long time, trying to figure him out. Resisting the urge to bite my lip, I pressed my legs together as I felt my body instantly react to the man before me without him even touching me. This hold he had on me was ridiculous. But I don't hate it even though I know I should.
Jasper Whitlock is my teacher. Even if wasn't his student and he wasn't an old man creeping on his students, I still knew that this, whatever this was, couldn't happen. No matter how badly I wanted him. I'd done a good job in ignoring him in school–barely saying so much as a hello to the man. If I ran into him while I wasn't with Rosalie or Jake, I spun on my heel and hauled ass out of there before we could get too close. Now that had been ridiculous. A part of me did feel bad for acting like a child but how else was I supposed to react when the warmth of his touch was all I could remember? His searing kisses trailing over my body made my whole body tingle with need. My heartbeat pounded in my chest every time I saw him, making me feel things I wasn't ready to confront.
"...I'm sorry about the other day." I forced through the silence. "I shouldn't have run away from you when you were just trying to talk to me. And I'm sorry for avoiding you like some sort of plague."
"You had every right to react the way you did, Isabella. I'm sure we both were reasonably high strung that day and could have gone about that conversation a hundred different ways." I looked down at his hands that hung loosely off his knees. I knew he was watching me with his unreadable gaze, his blue gaze piercing through me as he took in my face. I heard him take a deep breath before asking, "Can you tell me what happened?"
I stiffened. Forcing a smile I avoided looking at him if only to convince him about what I was about to say, "I...I'm fine."
"If you're going to lie to me you may as well look me in the eyes." He said with an edge to his voice.
Crap.
Pressure built in my eyes and I shut them to keep tears from making their way to the surface. I took another sip of the tea.
I should make up a lie. It was easy by now since I've lied before about my life outside of school to Rosalie, Jake, and even a few teachers who noticed my absence in class or gloomy demeanor. Professor McCarthy especially. The lie was on the tip of my tongue as I opened my mouth. It should be so easy...
And yet, a lie wasn't what came from my mouth when I managed to speak.
"Do you...have you ever tried to help someone who didn't want it?"
Jasper took a second to mull over my question.
"Yes, I have. Someone very dear to me."
"Who was it? I-if you don't mind me asking, I mean." I flushed, mortified that I was intruding on his personal life like this. The need to get to know him even if just a little bit, won over my rational thoughts that screamed this was a mistake.
Jasper was quiet for a long time before he breathed out, almost sounding exhausted, "My girlfriend in high school. She got involved with some bad people and made some really bad decisions that ended up costing her greatly."
"You have a girlfriend?" I looked at him this time, unable to hide the surprise on my face before I instantly felt dread in my stomach.
Jasper shook his head as if he knew exactly where my mind had gone, "No. She's not my girlfriend anymore, and she hasn't been for a very long time. I would have never spent the whole night with you if I had. I'm not that kind of man." I didn't know what to say, stunned at his admission and also a little hurt to know that if he'd been a little different, had someone else, that he would never have looked twice at me. What's wrong with me? Of course, he wouldn't have! He just said he wasn't the kind of person to cheat on his partner. That's a good thing. Jasper continued, "Her name was Alice, and she became addicted to drugs when she was seventeen."
Oh...no...I can't handle this. Not when my mom was not too far off from being addicted to substances other than alcohol if she were given a chance.
I shut my eyes, "I'm sorry..."
"Bella, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"
I stared into the mug with a blank expression, watching my reflection come into view as the waters stilled.
"My mom...she's sick," I whispered as if saying it out loud was too much of a risk. It made my heart hurt so much. I blew out a breath as I looked at a spot on the wall over Jasper's shoulder, not able to meet his eyes that never quite left my face. I could vaguely see the crease between his brows as he frowned, but he didn't say anything. "She's an alcoholic. Has been for a very long time, but this year it's gotten worse. My parents are always fighting, so it makes it hard to be around them sometimes."
"Did your mom hit you?" He asked, his voice no longer sounding harsh this time, replaced by something...soft instead.
Again, I should lie and keep my mouth shut to save myself the trouble of explaining how shitty my home life is.
"She didn't hit me...this is my dad's job, unfortunately." I tried to chuckle but it sounded like a wet breath instead. My eyes filled with tears as I sat back against the couch, resting my head against the cushion and staring up at the high ceiling to somehow hide from Jasper. I didn't want him to see this vulnerable side of me. He didn't need that. Tears slowly ran down the sides of my face as I blinked them away. My voice broke as I said, "Did you ever get so tired of trying to help your girlfriend that you wished someone else could take over? Because I feel like that all the time lately..."
I felt the cushion on the couch to my right sink seconds later. I stiffened when I felt the warmth of Jasper's body seep into my arm and thigh. He didn't touch me but his closeness alone was the most comfort I'd ever received from someone. It made more tears blur my vision.
"Yes, I did...and I hated myself for it."
I felt him take the hug out of my hand right as I threw my arms over my eyes and let out a soft sob into the soft material of the sweatshirt he'd given me, "I'm a terrible person."
Jasper's large hands gently wrapped around my forearms and slowly pulled them away from my face, "Look at me."
I shook my head, not having the courage to see the pity or annoyance on his face that was surely there. I didn't have it in me to face Jasper's cold gaze moments before he told me to get the hell out of his apartment. He'd have every right to do that.
"Look. At. Me." His hands captured my face, the warmth of his fingers invaded my cold skin as I slowly opened my eyes. When I did I didn't see an ounce of irritation on his chiseled features. Only sincerity. Determination. "You are not at fault for the mistakes others make around you. No matter what you do, no one has a right to hurt you simply because you also need help."
I release a shuddering breath before sniffling. My voice cracked, "I'm not the one who needs help..."
"Maybe you see it that way because you have for so long but I don't think you should be the one to shoulder this burden of taking care of your parents."
"What else can I do? I don't have enough money to afford an apartment in the city and I barely have enough scholarships to get me through undergrad. Either way, I'm stuck until I graduate." I shrugged. Jasper ran his thumb over my cheek and I winced. The memory of Charlie hitting me came back in full swing then. "My dad used to be a kind man when I was a kid. He'd never hit me before."
"Tell me what you need. Do you want me to call the police?"
"No!" I said, trying to pull away from his hold on me only to find that Jasper closed me into the corner. His hands still cupped my cheeks and though his presence was strong and unmoving, his hands never applied pressure on my sore skin. "I-I don't want to call the police."
Jasper's hands slowly slid down my face, the pad of his index finger gently brushing over my sore lip.
"Do you want to go back home? I can take you."
"No, I'll probably just go to Rosalie's tonight." I shook my head as I turned away from him. My face felt as though it had been doused in a fire when I realized how close we were to each other now. My eyes fluttered to meet his, "Thanks for not kicking me to the curb."
Jasper's jaw ticked, "Your welcome."
I don't know why I said what I did next but seeing as I was being truthful with him for once it felt right to do it.
"We may be in a bad spot right now because of what happened but I want you to know that I didn't lie to you about anything that happened that night between us. Just...so you know."
Jasper gave me a small smile, "Which part?"
I bit my lip and swallowed it down nervously, "All of it. I hadn't even thought about it before. Sex I mean. It had never been something pleasurable for me and I rarely wanted it. But...when I saw you? When you kissed me..." I shivered as I felt the back of his long fingers gently caressing the nape of my neck. My voice was deeper, not quite sounding like my own this time, "Before I knew it, I'd gotten completely lost in you. In...us. There's not a thing I kept from you that night."
Jasper took a second to process my words before standing up, walking towards the window in his living room before turning around. His hand rubbed the stubble on his chin, "You're not the only one who got lost. I did too. And I sure as hell didn't regret any of it, no matter how much I should. Tell me something, Isabella."
I nod, waiting for him to ask me whatever he wanted because right now, at this moment, I think I would give him anything just to keep him right here with me.
"Was it just a one-night stand for you?"
My heart stumbled over itself at the same time my breath caught.
I squirmed on the couch. His commanding voice made the ache in between my legs increase, "Don't look away from me. If you're going to lie again, I want to see it."
I took a deep breath to steel myself before straightening and forcing myself to look right at him. He stood against the window, the lights of the city beyond the glass shining around his tall frame and broad back.
"It wasn't..."
Standing up, I slowly padded across the hardwood floor and towards him. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I took him all in. The same way he did to me as his eyes grew darker with desire. He was much taller than me and I had to tilt my head up to get a good long look at him, "I never wanted it to be a one-night stand, Jasper."
"So why did you leave without saying anything?"
"Because I was scared you wouldn't want me there..."
I bit my lip again but froze when his eyes flashed towards the movement. His hand reached up to my face as his thumb pulled my lip out from under my teeth, "Stop fucking doing that. You're driving me insane."
I leaned into his touch, wanting to feel him again all over my body. I ached for him. For his gentle touch that stole my breath away. The safety he allowed me to feel when he claimed every inch of me and never let me feel as though I was alone. I wanted him so bad that it hurt. I could feel my nippled hardening against the sweater he lent me as they too ached to be touched.
"And you?" Jasper seemed lost in thought because he raised his brows at my half-assed question that clearly told me I was in a daze because of him. I swallowed, "Was it a one-night stand for you?"
Jasper pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me until I was pressed against him. I gasped as I felt his erection against my lower stomach. He was...hard. I whimpered as I pressed against him, my nipples grazing his chest enough to make me quiver with desire. There was no mistaking the wet, slick feeling that had gathered between my legs now. He still wanted me as much as I wanted him. Jasper let out a sharp breath as his hips involuntarily pushed against me. His fingers curled under my chin and pulled me up. I went on my tiptoes, my hands sliding over his shoulders for support as he leaned down.
His lips barely caressed mine as he whispered, "Fuck no."
Thanks to everyone who has read What We Do in the Shadows so far! Things are about to get very interesting in the following chapters ;)
