MS: Hey everyone! Back after yet another long delay. But no worries; I have so many fic and drabble and oneshot ideas right now that I'll be back in full force soon. I've completed nursing school! I actually did it! And I've been hired for my first job at my very own hospital as a casual :) So that means I'll get work but I'll also get a lot of free time! Anyways, just a quick blurb about this chapter. I need to vastly thank everyone who reviewed because that's the reason I chose to continue with this story! And from this chapter out I think it gets a bit more complex and will leave you wondering 'okay, WHAT happened..?" and that's normal. This is Mariam's chapter. I figure I'll continue doing a mix of perspectives of the trio. Let me know what you think.
You watch, utterly absorbed, laying out on the foot of your bed on your stomach as Krug attempts to shoot Mary. She's swimming for her life across the lake. The worst part of the movie has just passed. The irony that its protagonist is also named Mary is not lost on you. The thought makes you glance at the clock on your nightstand.
Hm.
His flight must be late.
You were hoping he would be here by now; you're getting drowsy.
Then again you never slept better or fell asleep easier than when he was with you.
Hell; maybe it's the simple thought of knowing he's on his way that has your eyelids feeling heavy.
Usually 'The Last House On The Left' has your undivided attention.
It's not too warm, it's not too cold; the temperature in your room is just right and it makes relaxing in a t-shirt and your underwear too good right now.
Drowsy.
It's nearly 4AM; he should've been here by 3.
If his flight is so delayed, then maybe a quick nap won't hurt...
The next thing you know is the sensation of a familiar chest laying itself out on your back. The new weight puts extra pressure on your hands where your chin rests and you blink yourself out of your stupor just as he's kissing the side of your head.
Damn, must've-
"You almost fell asleep."
You groan out an apology, and then find yourself smirking when it's clear that there's a certain hardness poking at the backs of your thighs.
God you've missed him.
"You were late..."
"Fuckin' delayed in customs." You've turned your head up for what you can, your lips immediately seeking the pale skin of his jaw. You love his jaw; not as much as his lips, but you do love that straight jawline of his. And the scar from his previously broken nose.
He adjusts his position on top of you and you might bite your lip a little as he rubs over your ass. It's too easy to tell what he'd been thinking about on the flight here. And that makes you infinitely happy.
Because he could've been thinking about someone else.
Suddenly a noise from the movie, still playing in front of you, draws your green eyes back to the screen and you remember that you'd been watching before you dozed. Mary's father is fighting with Krug's girlfriend, Sadie, in the bathroom. Obligatory tit shot as she gets shot in the head.
"'Last House On The Left' again eh?" He speaks so casually as he lifts his hips, digs a finger into the hemline of your underwear and tugs them down your white legs.
"It's my favorite." Bryan's kneeling up now, undoing his pants and you reach behind you. You move blindly for a minute, but when your fingers clasp around his wrist he lets you pull that arm forward. You can practically feel his shudder as you pass his knuckles by your lips.
You like to think that your touch tantalizes him. Because every part of him tantalizes you.
Especially when he-
You cry out a little as he enters you from behind. It stabs, it burns at first and you love that feeling. Your body misses him when he's gone.
Things will be slow tonight. He knows you're tired, and he just hopped off a plane from Hong Kong. His hips are a slow, deep roll into you and his arms curl around you; effectively bracketing you with his body.
The crashes, the screams, the sadness of the movie go unnoticed to you from here on out as he milks little noises from your throat and kisses at the side of your neck and breathes roughly in your ear.
He cums loud, and you cum quiet; the great dichotomy.
It's so late. ...Early.
Sunlight is beginning to peak through the window shutters and while you're a little more awake now than you've been all night... You want to sleep more now than you did earlier. He pulls himself out of you, eventually, and as you push yourself up you give in and go for his lips.
You're not that lame person who wants a kiss before bedtime; not your style. But he's been away for almost four months... Secret phone calls and text messages and naked pictures don't do you justice.
Bryan isn't overly affectionate; but he gives in to be the Bryan you need right now, and kisses you once but long.
After that he gets up and turns off the light, and you shed your t-shirt too because why the fuck not. It'll be warmer soon, when the sun rises high into the sky and with two of you in your tiny bed you'll both sweat. He stumbles a little in the darkness, then makes his way back over and climbs in beside you.
You want in his arms, so he opens them for you and soon your head is on his bare chest, over the tattoo he'd gotten there when Voltaire was sentenced and the Abbey was closed for good. Your eyelids are so heavy at this point that it's a challenge to keep them open. You can't imagine how he feels, seeing as you just fucked and he's been on a plane for the last nine hours.
His skin is always cool... It feels so good right now, arms wrapping around you with your blankets pooling around your waists. You remember his fingers in your hair and that's it.
You've let him sleep in. Besides, you've woken up in a wonderful mood.
No dreams last night, no chills, no sweats... You slept so well, just like you knew you would.
You're in such a good mood actually that you picked up your brother's guitar today and decided to pluck a few strings.
Maybe he heard the music; within twenty minutes or so you feel the sense of being watched, a looming presense over your back. It makes you more weary of your playing, of every string your fingers touch. You'd been singing, and you didn't even notice until now because you suddenly feel the need to make your voice quiet.
Wrong chord. "Shit..."
"Sounded good to me."
Suspicions affirmed. You look up and over your shoulder at him, his hair mussed and bare-chested in the late-morning light. He's a sight to see. Who knows; maybe the mental image of him standing there in the hallway behind you is what made you screw up. You're a master musician; it's the only thing you're good at. Your hands are rough and scarred and crampy because of it, but you love it. And performing has never intimidated you whether it be in the beystadium, the bedroom or on a stage, so the fact that Bryan can unnerve you into plucking the wrong strings is a feat in itself.
"No, I'm rusty... Haven't played much lately."
"I said it sounded good didn't I?" His hand leisurely reaches out and sweeps up through your bangs and then the rest of your hair, making you lean backward into his legs. "Gonna eat breakfast with me?"
You nod your head, and he grasps your forearm to help pull you to standing.
It was the little things with Bryan, like that... The different ways that he showed affection other than kissing or hugging or cooking. A lot of times it was just an arm around your waist, an evil glare aimed at somebody who bumped into you on the street. Everything with him was 'get closer to me. be mine.'
He thinks he's bad at affection.
The truth is he's amazing at protection.
Soon you're cooking eggs and moose sausage at the stove, and an idle thought crosses your mind. "...Does Rei cook breakfast everyday?"
Bryan stops reading the firearm magazine he's got at your kitchen table. The atmosphere between you two is suddenly so very, very different.
You shouldn't have asked that.
It takes almost an entire minute.
"Mmhmm." That's all you get.
"..." You return your eyes back to the frying pan, and he puts his back on the pages of his magazine. Idly you wonder how he feels right now. Is it guilt..? Anger...? It's hard not to think of what could be going through his mind when he surprises you everyday. But how could you not wonder...? He's cheating on Rei with you. The world only knows about Rei. Rei knows about nothing. He expects you to be with only him but he has another. Is it guilt? Is it anger? Is it you, wanting him all to yourself...?
You shut off the stove. "Sorry, guess I shouldn't-"
"No, you fuckin' shouldn't." The sharpness of his words wounds you a little and you clench your teeth. His eyes are tearing into you but you don't move, you don't look at him. It's your quiet way... Your quiet sadness. "You don't get it."
No, you don't... But you want to.
"You know I fuckin' care about him too." Yes, I know. There's another hanging silence, and it drives you mad. You just want to understand-
"I love you and I fuckin' love him. You think I enjoy not being able to choose? You think I enjoy cheating on him when he don't deserve it and makin' you feel like shit because you feel like you ain't enough?"
You can't help but look at him now because you've never said that to him. When he showed up at your place and found you knee-deep in depression and told you he still loved you, you accepted that because you still loved him. You didn't speak about Rei much... The only thing you both agreed on was that you wanted to keep loving each other, and that no one else needed to know about it.
"Jesus in between you and him there's no other time. Not time for my team, not time for me. Fuck personal time, I don't even want it. I'm with him most of the time and I don't get to see you often because people would fuckin' make something of it if we hung out. Probably break Rei's heart."
He's not helping your guilt now.
"So please. If we're gonna do this Mariam, you're not gonna act like a victim and I'm not gonna spend one of the few fucking times we get together in person bein' forced to think about what I'm doing to him. Because all I got is you two. Ain't time for nothin' else and I don't wanna make time to feel shittier than what I do. All I can do is make you two happy when I can."
He reluctantly reopens the magazine that he'd slammed shut; unknowingly or not.
"Just wanna be about you for awhile.."
His words leave a lot more to be said, but they've done their job. You temporarily abandon your task of breakfast at the counter, and walk back over to him. Your town is small; your community is private. They know everything about you, and you trust them. So you don't care if they see you wrap your arms around him from the window, watch you kiss his cheek and temple as he quietly seethes to let go of the anger in him.
The way Bryan pulls your arms a little tighter says even more. You need him. Even if this isn't right. Even if you're the bad guy. Even if you both are. He needs you.
"I love you." You whisper the words into his ear, and he makes some undetermined noise to show he heard you. You cling to him for a couple minutes more, soaking up everything that being together offers you.
Then you make your way back to the stove with a deep breath and a new smirk on your face.
"So we have a week and a half. Better make it count."
His eyes are on your back.
Together, and apart.