c h a p t e r t w o
(J U S T I N p o v)
Alex was going to college, which was honestly kind of a shock.
She was going to NYU, where you went, which was another shock. You thought that as soon as she was able she was going to leave you as far behind as she possibly could.
But now she was going to live with you?
What in the world were your parents thinking? Why would they do this?
You sat there silently as Alex demanded explanations and your parents failed to give adequate ones. She had sat up and was leaning forward on the couch, defiance written over every line of her body as she yelled reasons about why this was a horrible freaking plan.
You soon join in, arguing with Alex instead of against her for the first time you can remember, telling your parents that they are being perfectly ridiculous and that this plan is not even close to a good idea.
Max was just sitting there, he probably didn't really get the big deal, looking at the four of you blankly and probably just wondering when he was going to get breakfast.
There were a lot of reasons for you to not want Alex to live with you.
She would scare away your friends.
You would have to clean up her messes, magical and not, constantly.
It was more than likely that she would break most of your stuff.
She would prank you all the time.
And, well, there was one more main reason that she should not live with her.
You kind of, sort of, maybe have been having these dreams about her since you left.
Dreams that involved pretty much no clothing, entirely too much touching, and lots and lots of kissing.
Dreams that you should definitely not be having about your little sister.
So you yell at your parents and demand that Alex not live with you and she claims you're going to cramp her style and your parents listen to neither one of you and at the end of the day, they're hunting for an apartment big enough for both of you and your attitudes. And yeah, that is a direct quote from your mom.
Three weeks pass and your parents have found an apartment and you and Alex are out of new protests so now you're just repeating the old ones.
Before you know it, summer is over and you're moving into an apartment a block away from New York University.
Summer was actually pretty boring, spent working in the substation and running from Harper.
The only thing that wasn't boring, but kind of redundant, was the daily fights you and Alex had with your parents. Every single day the same argument with different words took place, both of you trying to get out of living with each other.
You aren't sure why Alex was protesting so vehemently, but you didn't want to live with her because you didn't trust yourself in such close quarters.
As it was, you were dreaming every night. You were dreaming about running your fingers down Alex's skin and pressing your lips to her's and sliding your hands up the pajamas she was wearing, consisting of one of your shirts and nothing else, up and up and up.
And that was terrible, in that spectacular kind of way, but then it was even more terrible because you enjoyed it and thought it was spectacular.
But they were just dreams.
If you lived with her for an entire year, not just a summer that you could avoid her for most of, and alone, the dreams would probably get worse and something totally awful might happen, such as you blurting out your feelings or kissing her or doing something else completely, horribly stupid.
Living with her was not going to work out well.
And yet.
You couldn't convince your parents, because really, what were you supposed to tell them? Sorry, I can't live with my sister because I'm kind of nervous that the small amount of space in our living quarters will result in me jumping her.
Yeah. That would go over so well.
So here you were.
Moving into a two-bedroom apartment, with a living room a kitchen and one bathroom. Your family all enters and Alex immediately runs to the largest room, goes in, and slams the door behind her.
You follow her example, glaring at your annoyingly stubborn parents and walking into the other bedroom, closing the door as soon as you're all the way in.
You know you're being petty, but whatever, they're making you live with Alex, your little sister, the girl you want to kiss and unclothe and do not brotherly things to.
"Justin, all of your stuff is in the living room. Alex's stuff too. We love you. We're sorry you're so upset. We'll talk to you later." Your mother speaks though your door, and you whisper goodbye but you're still just so angry that they're making you live with the temptation that you aren't allowed to be tempted by.
And you know that they don't know, but still.
You're kind of tired of being rational and levelheaded.
You're having freaking sex dreams about Alex.
Obviously, you're rational side left the building a while ago.
You close your eyes and put in headphones and try to let the music drown out your thoughts.
But this things more than physical
I'll free your mind and I'll bless your soul
Tonight we're gonna lose track of time
Body and spirit will intertwine
And we'll stay here the rest of the night
Baby when the sun comes up
I'm gonna be holding you
It's destiny that you're next to me
I'm in love with you
Oh and baby when I wake up
I'm gonna be there with you
A new day rise I wanna look in your eyes when the sun comes up
Wait a minute baby I'm not through
I intend to spend more than one night with you
A love affair that never ends
Like the old song said "lets do it again"
Well. That didn't work.
(A L E X p o v)
You cannot freaking believe that you are living with Justin.
You know that you had already lived with him for like seventeen years.
But then he moved out and went off to college and you got used to him not being there.
Especially since he never called or wrote or anything.
Not that that bugged you.
Because really, it didn't.
You were not bothered.
Not one freaking bit.
But whatever.
That isn't the point.
The point is you're freaking living with Justin.
He was totally going to ruin any social life that you could have had at college before you even had a chance to have the stupid social life. And he had been acting all crazy all summer too, ever since your graduation and your parent's announcement following graduation. Refusing to be in the same room with you alone and blowing off wizard class and actually arguing with your mom and dad.
You arguing really wasn't a shock, not at all, actually. But Justin arguing? It was like a sign of that apocalypse-thingy, the end of the world or whatever.
And yet, even with both of you fighting for the same cause of not freaking living together, your parents didn't listen and now you were sulking in your new room in your new apartment that you were sharing.
With Justin.
You jump up off the floor, tired of pouting, and go into the living room, throwing things left and right to try and find your box with all the art supplies. You finally find it and grab your paints and brushes, quickly choosing out all the shades of gray and black and white you have.
You move to the far wall and quickly start working, paint getting on your hands and then your face when you try to brush your hair back with your fingers.
Justin comes out of his room while your finishing and you can almost hear the voice in his head wondering if this is allowed by the landlord.
"Alex? What are you doing? Is that even permitted? What if the landlord gets angry?" He asks and you snort at his predictability, stepping back to admire your work.
"Who cares? It's on Mom and Dad if it isn't allowed, and if it is allowed then there aren't really any problems, are there?" you turn to grin at him, dropping your paintbrushes into the cup of water you had placed on the floor earlier. "You like it?" you say, turning back to look at it again.
Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping. Waiting. And though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir. Open it's jaws and howl. It speaks to us, guides us.
Passion rules us all.
And we obey.
What other choice do we have?
Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love. The clarity of hatred. And the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes, more than we can bare. If we could live without passion, maybe we would know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow, empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead.
It's written in slanted cursive across the wall, each word a different shade of gray.
"It's… beautiful. What's it from?" he questions, his eyes turning towards you.
"Buffy. Angel says it. Right after he's gone all badass and evil, but he still loves her. Or is obsessed with her at the very least. Either way, she's all he can think about." It's one of your favorite line from the series and you didn't even really decide to paint it, it just kind of came out.
And then you hear a murmur, something that sounds suspiciously like I understand how he feels, before Justin is striding back into his room, telling you to clean up after yourself on the way.
You simply ignore him, looking once again at the various shades of gray on the wall and brushing already paint-covered hair back from your face.
You look at your paints, inspiration still thrumming through your veins.
After all, you are still surrounded by uncovered walls.
So. Not all that sure that I like this. But whatever. The song is Sun Comes Up, by John Legend. Let me know your thoughts please! And also, let me know whether or not I should say what Alex paints or writes on the rest of the walls, or if I should just move on. Thank youuu!
