Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?
Chapter Twenty-Two: Movement
"Mm... Fang.." I groaned, opening my eyes.
My head was leaning sideways against his chest, and my legs dangled over the side of the mattress, sitting sideways on his lap. His torso was sitting up straight against the headboard, cushioning my head. I leaned up off of him and looked up to his face groggily. He was staring absentmindedly ahead, quiet and pensive, seeming to be deep in thought. His legs were slack, laying on the bed, as I sat on them. He turned his head to look down at me, his hand casually slung around over my lap, his strong forearm resting gently on my thighs.
"Fang, what time is it?" I asked. I immediately began shifting on his thighs and beneath his arm, feeling uncomfortable and wet nevertheless. I could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him, having someone wetting your lap, slowly but surely.
"Its 12, Max," he said after a moment, looking down at his watch.
I stopped shuffling around and relaxed a bit, leaning back to rest on his chest again. I felt so, completely, utterly tired. I hadn't eaten anything, but it felt like nothing would agree with me anyway.. which is pretty goddarn surprising, considering I've the appetite of an elephant.
"Fang.. I need to get up," I groaned, complaining.
"Why?" he asked disinterestedly. The monotonous utterance barely made the statement a question, I considered amusedly; he put no emotion behind it.
"I feel disgusting."
"Thats precisely why you shouldn't get up"
It's because I was disgusting. I gulped, feeling tears threaten to spill over. I hated this, I hated this so much. Why did it have to be me? I felt gross, I felt horrible, I felt dreadful.. this was so disgusting. And I was leaking and spilling everything onto his lap. I felt like crying, so hard.
My shoulders hunched and my hair fell down to cover my face, and at such close proximity, Fang had probably noticed the cycle of thoughts mulling around in my head, despite that my head had lowered away from him. Slowly, ever so slowly, I felt his left hand rise up from where it was laying by his side and reach my back. He rested it right below my shoulder blades and rubbed the area around my spine soothingly, once or twice. He couldn't understand, but it made me feel better.
Slowly, after a while, I felt his hand trail up conspicuously from my back and return my head to his chest. Craning his neck down a bit, he brushed up the hair on my forehead and kissed the side of my temple gently. It wasn't like the first time when I had been half asleep—it wasn't hesitant or fearful, or unsure—it was completely, demandingly, definitively, positive. His lips pressed tightly against my forehead determinedly. He was saying something to me, and I didn't know what it was, although deep inside I knew that I was sure. If anything, I didn't respond.. I didn't want to.
I closed my eyes, feeling ever-so helpless. I wanted to push him away, I wanted to smack him. I wanted to get off him, but I couldn't. I felt too tired, and didn't feel like using up the small amount of energy it felt like I had, and because he was there, helping me.
"You're taking the day off," he said quietly, once he had lifted his head up from my scalp. It wasn't a question and it wasn't a request.. it was a command, and despite its gentle demeanor, it was demanding and threatening and it nearly sent fear course throughout my veins. I hadn't heard his voice in so long.. and this voice.. it was a new one.
I sat there, letting his fingers brush surreptitiously against my forehead in light, gentle strokes. I felt my shoulders shiver at the contact of the feeling of his fingers on my bare skin, gentle and caring, soft and light. I felt my shoulders quake as his touches began to send electric currents rocket through my spine, and I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp.
I felt like smashing his face in, I felt like cracking his jaw, cracking his neck, breaking his knee -again-, and I felt like doing so many things to him that I couldn't name it. He brought his fingers down around my left shoulder and cupped it, as my right shoulder leaned against his chest. I felt his fingers on me, around me, the hot, warm contact making me feel like a true warm-blooded animal, and I wanted to shrug it away, I wanted to push him away, I felt like getting him off of me. I didn't want him to touch me, and I didn't want to be sitting, bleeding onto his lap, I just wished he'd stop. I wished he would stop, and I felt like crying.
His hands were all over me. The arm that had been resting on my lap, securing me unto him, loosened up as I felt his fingers dance their ways up from my knee all the way to my upper hips. It danced all the way up to the edge of my loose t-shirt, and his thumbs seemed to gently make motions alluding to want to rub against my hipbones. I felt his hands everywhere, all over me, and I felt like throwing up. I wish he would stop, I wish he would just stop.. touching me. I sat there, just sitting on his lap, feeling his soothing heartbeat loosen the tension off of the features on my face, and letting his hands roam up and down and everywhere on my skin and body.. The most personal places, he was violating. I couldn't push him off.. I couldn't push him off.. cause my head was leaning on his chest, cause I was sitting on his lap, letting him help me.
I couldn't push him off and I couldn't risk losing him again.. the past two months were horrible, dreadful, like living a live nightmare, awkward as hell, just plain sad. I couldn't push him off and I needed to accept his help no matter how much I was hating this.
My eyes closed and tears leaked out the sides of my tearducts. He looked down to watch them slowly seep out, drip, and fall down, against the sides of my cheekbones. But he thought it was because I was feeling bad.. It was because of him though.
He went on.
His hands continued to rub all over me, whisping gently here and there, it was like him undertaking his own personal discovery, like he thought I couldn't feel it, like an object, he could cop a feel... like I'd take that.
And I took it.
At some point, I felt desensitized, but soon I gently felt his hands slide up the inside of my knees and sluggishly lift me up and put me to the side, to lay me down straight on the bed where he had been lying. It was warm, after the hour and a half that he had been sitting there, supporting me, as I had dozed. I laid there, in just a t-shirt, my lower regions saturated, but clean and tidy after Fang had cleaned me up before. I was relieved his hands were finally off of me. It had been the most horrendous emotional and mental torture I'd been through since I was outside of the School.
But at least I was clean. At least he seemed to know what he was doing with me. At least he was helping me. At least he was speaking to me. I just.. didn't like that he was touching me, so intimately, so pointedly. But at least I was clean.
What were messy were his pajamas, I'd noticed after he had laid me down and stood up straight to assess me. There was blood all over, it was pretty goddamned disgusting. I sighed, and just stared at them.
I had made a mess of my thighs with blood in an effort to keep from dripping onto the bathroom floor. But now, as Fang made sure, my thighs were pretty clean and tidy, but instead I'd completely saturated his lap with blood, as were his intentions.
Turning around, he slid the bloodied pajamas down to his ankles and stepped off of them, kicking the pile off to the side. I was faced with his back, and the back of his butt, as he walked few steps forward to Iggy's chests of drawers and grabbed the first thing he could find inside. He slipped on a pair of baggy, loose, cargo shorts, that gently fell to a little below his knees, Iggy being naturally taller than him. I saw his penis dangle a bit in front before he finished buttoning and turned around to face me. He saw my eyes begin to droop down again in tiresome manner and quickly slipped out of the room. He came back with shoes and socks on his feet and a harsh fragrance of artificial gunk trailing in through the door with him. I tiredly glanced up to see him throw a black windbreaker on in front of me while he stood at the side of the bed. Staring at me, he kneeled down by the side of the bed as he gently brushed my hair back. I looked up at him tiredly, curling up in ball on my side ontop of the mattress.
"I'll be right back, Max. I'm going out to get some stuff," he promised in a whisper, wary of wakening me.
His eyes were serious as they looked into mine, desperate and eager and worried. He didn't want to go and I knew he'd make good on that promise to come back right away. I nodded tiredly, closing my eyes as I felt sleep overcome me once again. The lack of an appetite was probably something rather detrimental. I heard the door of Iggy and Gazzy's room shut quietly somewhere in the distance. At least his hands weren't on me anymore.
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"Up.. there we go," Fang muttered absentmindedly as he maneuvered me up and around himself.
There he went again. Speaking to me like I was Angel or Nudge or Gazzy. He.. he was treating me like I was a kid, like someone younger than him, like I was naïve or innocent or someone to protect.
I wasn't. I wasn't, and he needed to stop.
But I didn't have enough energy to scold him.
My eyes were crusted and I groggily looked up at him. His strong, determined hands were supporting my limp elbows on top of him as he moved me around. I felt like a freaking rag doll, all flimsy and worn and tired. My stomach felt so freaking empty, but I didn't feel like I could bear to eat anything.
I closed my eyes again gently as I finally stopped moving—as he finally stopped moving me. I sat there, nearly asleep as I felt him touch around my nether regions again, doing something or another again with both of his hands below me, but not distinctly touching anything in me.
A while later, I opened my eyes again, to bear my surrounding.
Fang was sitting behind me.. beneath me.. and I was laying on top of him, straight up, my head being beside his chin, or below it. My hips leaned against his, and my legs laid directly ontop of his own longer ones. We were facing the same direction on the bed, me lying on top of him. His arms were placed protectively ontop of my hips, securing my onto him.
Straining his neck to the side, I watched his arms on top of my body maneuver something in between my legs and his as he fiddled around. He was now dressed in a pair of jeans, the same ones he had been wearing this morning before he took them off. I felt something press gently against the opening of my crotch, it was delicate and sure, and then I realized that his hand was pushing against it, keeping it there on me.
My shoulder blades resting on his chest, and completely oblivious or uncaring of that certain fact, I arched my back as I raised my arms above my head and yawned. He silently ducked his head to accommodate my moving around. Stretching and straining around my back, I sat up straight on his hips, the feeling of his hand pushed harshly into my vagina sending strange things rocket up my abdomen, but he kept it there, even as I moved. After a short second I realized that this predicament was probably more uncomfortable for him, so then moved back again to rest on his chest, as if it were a mattress.
"Its about 5 now," his voice sounded from behind me. I'd fully woken up now. I nodded quietly, the previously looming sleep quieting me. It didn't help that his presence, so close, so near, right behind me, was insanely unnerving. I felt his breath on my neck.. we were that close. For some reason though, I stopped feeling so marginally wet down below.
"Fang, what is that?" I asked, pointing down to where his hands was secured, pushing up into my crotch.
"Its a pad, to catch the flow," he replied simply. He pointed with his free hand, over my shoulder to a large double-bagged plastic tow a little off beside the closed door.
It was a large bag, about three feet tall and completely full to the rim, looking quite square-shaped in all the stuff that was inside it, piled inside neatly and fully.
"I didn't know what to get.. so I bought out half of the aisle," he explained, blushing the slightest bit for a mere moment. I strained my neck to look up to him behind me for a second. He was looking down to the side embarrassedly.
"Eh.. whats wrong?" I asked him, surprised at his reaction.
"Well.. I guess its sort of weird for guys to buy all that stuff.." he said hesitantly and monotonously, shifting his pupils around sheepishly and uncomfortably.
I felt the insane urge inside me to giggle, but held back. His fingers, still holding the pad on me securely, tapped my vagina gently as I saw him recall the experience in his mind. He looked exasperated as he glanced back at the tall bag of stuff he had bought for my sake.
"Well.. I'll be sure to go next time then," I said with a smirk, but it quieted down as I finished the statement. Fang wouldn't show it, but I knew that he was surprised by that statement.. I knew that secretly, inside, he was overjoyed. Maybe I was thanking him, maybe I was showing him how much I missed him, who knows? But it was pretty incredible, if I do say so myself, for me to suddenly, magically, become openminded about going into town like it was a casual thing. I even offered to go.. that was saying alot.
Ending the statement however, something else came over me, while elation fell down on Fang. It was quiet in the room as I came to terms with the fact that I'd have to go through this every month for a while now. I suddenly sighed loudly. What a friggin hassle. It was still annoying, and I still hated it, although the pad was really helping. I didn't feel as so goddamned uncomfortable anymore.
I shuffled around a bit on him some more.
"Eh, please Max, its hard enough to keep this on you, without you moving around," he said sort of agitatedly. I quieted. He was probably still pretty peeved at how embarrassed he was at the supermarket, or department store, or wherever it is that he went.
"So, like, I'll just walk around with this for the rest of the time?" I asked him, straining to twist my neck around behind me to throw him a strange look. Switching his hand to keep one securely against my vagina, he picked up a package which seemed to hold more of those pad things on the other side of Iggy's bed that he'd left there.
He picked up and scanned it for a second beside me, his eyes quickly running over and the printed text.
"Well you're supposed to change it every 2 to 4 hours or so.. it really depends on how heavy your flow is," he said.
"Speaking of which, I did some more research on that," he continued, "It gets better. The hurting doesn't last beyond the second day, and it gets less messy and heavy and stuff."
I breathed an audible sigh of relief. It still sucked, but it was nice to know that it didn't have to suck just so much all the time it was happening.
I leaned back on his chest as he fiddled around with the plastic package some more, turning it around and reading some more of what was written on it. I looked off to the side, watching his hand turn it around, before I looked away again. I didn't want to think about this.
"I need to buy you briefs.." he said to me irritatedly as he switched hands on my crotch again. I twitched ontop of him, beneath his hands. I didn't reply. I didn't want to think about this, and I didn't want to talk about it, and I just wanted to pretend it wasn't there. He wasn't exactly helping though.
"So you lift this up, and pull it down and stick it on the bottom," he said, pulling one out of the package and showing me. I nodded disinterestedly, barely looking at what he was showing me.
"I'll bring you some tomorrow," he promised. I turned my head, away from him, although that was pretty impossible since he had me laying on top of him. At least his hand wasn't on my waist or anything. I could tell he was uncomfortable at the complete, utter lack of speech or response coming from me. He was probably disturbed by it, having to carry on a conversation by himself. Heaven knows he was having a hard time.. he was pretty awful at it, I noted, smiling a bit to myself.
I sighed. This sucked. He was quiet above me now, his other hand retracted now to rest at his side.
"Where's Iggy?" I asked offhandedly after a while. This is his bed afterall, that we were laying on.
"He's gonna sleep in my room tonight, and I told Gazzy to share with Angel or Nudge," he said in the same quiet tone as I.
"He can sleep in mine.." I silently pointed out after I realized that Fang and I were going to sleep on Iggy's bed together tonight.
It was weird, it was quiet, it was calm, it was pensive, it was tense. There were things lingering in the air above us, so many things lingering around, but things neither of us wanted to touch.
I sighed again. Recently, it felt like that was all that I'd been doing.. just sighing. What else was I to do? Some things.. some things.. you just had to deal with.
And this sucked.
There we go. I sighed again.
I wanted to go to sleep again, just forget it all and everything, but I couldn't. I'd had way beyond my daily dose of recommended sleep, so I was just laying there on Fang's warm, soothing chest, as he kept the pad against me. The outline of his fingers made feelings rocket and squirm up my stomach. He smelled like nothing but himself and his sweat. I looked at his bare arm cut off below his half-sleeved shirt.
Gently, as I brought my fingers up to brush against a protruding vein, as I noticed alot more, many lines that were sticking up rogue through his skin. The lights were closed, and the sky was getting dark, so the room was clouded in a rich dark blue. I saw a faint outline of green on a vein or capillary, whichever, and I brought my hand up to gently brush against it.
The efforts of working out so hard, the efforts of lifting everyday. I wondered why he did it, and what he had to prove or attain. Personally, I myself, hadn't worked out or gone through any rigorous intense training since Jeb had left. I'd been too busy taking care of the flock and the kids and keeping things running, that I couldn't find time out of my day to actually challenge myself beyond teaching Gazzy and Nudge the standard regimen of self-defense, so they could finish and start training themselves. And then I knew I'd have to start with Angel once I was done with them.
My fingers danced down his arms across the torn muscles across his skin, the veins that nearly popped out of his skin, his strong arms. It was amazing.. I felt safe, but so scared. I was lying on him, and I felt so safe.. of the world.. but I felt so scared.. of him. Of his close proximity, of his hands, of his fingers, of the warm, reassuring breaths I could feel fall onto my neck from his nostrils as he exhaled. The prime signal of life.. life beneath me.. a boy underneath me.. a boy on me. I was having a hard time figuring out whether he was on me or beneath me..
I saw him turn his head and watch me underneath, over the the top of my head. Turning the slightest bit and gently running my hands down his arm in curiosity, I felt his eyes watch my fingers in wonder, ontop of his skin. He was watching me with keen eyes, something hidden underneath, but I didn't bother to cock my head up to stare at them and bother to figure out what it was.
Somewhere up above me, I felt his breathing and his heart rate pulse, as he continued to watch me play across and along his strong, unmoving arm. I would've gone all the way up to his shoulder if only his shirt hadn't been in the way. I saw a vein twitch on his arms as my fingers continued to trail down, obsolete to the running of his blood through his capillaries. We laid there on the bed, his hands placed between my legs securely, with his forearms resting over my hips, laying on top of his hard form, and us watching my fingers trail down his arm, quietly, gently, subtly, but surely.
Suddenly, he shifted, sitting up straighter, and no longer slouching back onto the headboard. His body was warm, an open envelope below me, but it was hard all over, and suddenly it started to become very tense.
"Ugh.. Max, stop fidgeting," he groaned out in whisper, a shallow breath. His mouth was right beside my ear, and I tensed up as I heard his deep dark voice right beside me, husky, and low. I nodded numbly, realizing what problem it may cause for him.
We stayed there like that. Unmoving, just laying on top of one another, staring straight ahead to the end of Iggy's bedpost, to the large, wide window facing across from it. Iggy and Gazzy's room undoubtedly had the best and largest windows in the entire house. The sky was dark now, a dark, dark blue, and the light of crescent moon and few stars shown down onto the room, filled with heavy bright shadows, and bathed within the dark blue night.
"Iggy has a nice view," I commented quietly.
"Mhm" Fang agreed, admiring the stars outside of the window with me. It's just a shame he can't see it, we both thought.
I felt his hand falter a bit on my crotch. It moved up a bit and let the tip of the white cottonish piece fall back a little bit. Hesitantly and casually, his hand slipped below it.
My heart jumped as I felt his bare finger on my vagina a little bit. I felt his shoulders slouch forward a little bit, causing me to slouch forward as well. I bent forward with him, and we were no longer completely laying down, but with rather him hunching over me with his jaw leaning over my shoulder, he was looking down to my lap.
His finger slipped down a little bit, and hooked onto whatever was there at the front and pulled up a little bit. I gasped a little bit louder. The area below suddenly felt dramatically, frighteningly, empty below. I felt myself leak into the pad a little bit more this time, but his thigh made sure it stayed in place as he wreaked havoc on that area with his single finger.
Still hooked on it, he pulled down and up gently and slowly.
"Max.. how does that feel?" he asked me quietly, his voice still and low, beside my ear.
Somehow I knew if I were to answer, my voice would betray me. He heard the quiet, nearly inaudible whimper that escaped the bottom of my throat, and I could feel him assess it. What was he doing to me?
His finger moved up and down that small one or two millimeter area more surely now, eliciting a whole new thrall of emotion inside me. I felt his finger gently caress the area on top, the lines of his fingerprints... like I could feel every ridge on the padding of his fingers rub against me, right on me. It was making me feel like my vagina was practically sweating on the inside, something was beating roughly inside there. I shuffled around a bit in agitation, in the feeling.. in the feeling that was so, incredible, so insane in consuming me.
He slowed down the movement on me now, gradually leaving it as he picked his hand up and slid the pad out between my thighs and slipped another one new one onto me, between my legs. His hands replaced their prior position on top of the pad, but no longer with a finger slipped inside.
I couldn't honestly say that I missed it's presence, because my breathing was heavy, my heart was pounding fast in me. What had just happened? Fang seemed to be perfectly fine and normal behind me, save for that awkward bulge hitting between my mid-back.
He leaned forward and whispered into my ear.
"That was your clitoris, Max," his low voice drummed silently into my ear. He sounded as if he had just had an adrenaline shot as well, but his breathing seemed to be unaffected.
I tried to catch my breath. I sucked in the info that he had said to me. Okay.
"It.. it felt empty down there, like everything was sweating.. when you did that" I whispered out in response. My eyes were still wide open, wide in fear, apprehension, surprise, of something unknown.
"Your G-spot.." he whispered out and he slipped his hand under and toggled the small area above again. He hooked his finger underneath again and pulled up again like before, stretching my vagina out and pulling it up, straining it against me, but it felt.. I felt the feeling wrack throughout my body, and I felt my butt clench below me in the subtlety he was slowly wracking throughout me.
"Thats.." he said quietly, "..where my penis is supposed to go."
He was referring to the empty space I'd suddenly become more hypersensitive of. When he had pulled the, what he had called, clitoris, up above me, is when I'd first felt it. I could feel his wet mouth near the side of my head, against my ear, close to me. He was close to my ear, and I could practically taste his lips on my skin.
I was wrought with shock, and inwardly gasped at the implications of what he had just said.
His body was still beneath me as he slipped his finger out slowly and tauntingly.
I shuddered instinctively at the feeling, and as the thought overwhelmed me.. So thats where.. how.. it.. what.. happens.. What he had said this morning to me in the bathroom never truly hit me on full force, on impact until just this moment.. as he had pointed it out. I was in shock, not just from the information, but also from what he had just done to me.
"Did it feel good?" he asked suddenly, from behind me, sounding unsure and hesitant of my answer. Hesitant, nearly scared, an undertone in his monotonous, seemingly apathetic voice, but apparent to me.
"Yes," I whispered out, barely audible to anyone of the human ears, even if they were as close to me as Fang was right now. But he heard it nevertheless. He decisively, rather than hesitantly, brought his hands away as I could feel the tension on his body visibly ease at the answer I had given. His heartbeat came on faster by nanoseconds, but I noticed it, behind and against my back. He was relieved, and in epic proportions, for some unknown reason. My breathing relaxed, and my breath calmed. My vagina felt much better with a new pad now below me, but still tingled a bit from the memories of what he had just done, his hand still holding itself there against me instinctively and cleanly.
I felt him lean back on the headboard again, but suddenly I felt his presence and his torso flush against my back again. His lips touched the back of my jawline and he kissed it hesitantly at first, but then his lips grew pressure on me as it became hard and sure. The feeling was different, it was new, but I wondered what he was doing. His hand was still below me, keeping the pad to catch my flow. He slipped his face further into my neck and planted another kiss in the center of the side. I instinctively craned my neck up at the movement, my hands automatically going down to clutch the forearms resting on top of my hips that would lead to his fingers pressing the pad against my vagina, and I clutched his forearms laying on top of me with a scared, pulsing, deathlike grip. He moved his face again, meaning to place one on my collarbone again but I spoke before he could get to it,
"Fang.. what're you doing..?" I whispered out horrendously. My fingers were clenched on his forearms frighteningly, my voice sounded horrified, a surprise even to my own ears. He quickly caught the undertones and lifted his head up from the point in which my shoulder met my neck looking up at me questioningly from below. His forearms relaxed on my hips slowly as he looked up, and my fingers loosened the tension on them as well, letting go. I stared straight ahead, my eyes still wide open in shock, refusing to twist my neck up to meet his glance. Recieved with a lack of response, he turned his head again, with the intention of continuing. The kisses were soft and sweet.. subtle, but they made my shoulders convulse and suddenly I pushed my elbow forward and jerked it back into his side before he could get any more along.
"Oof," he gasped, the wind completely knocked out of him, as he fell back onto the headboard of Iggy's bed. I turned around on his hips, the pad sustained beneath me by the position it was on, sitting on top, between his naval area.
My face was angry, I was sending him a tortured glare. He looked up at me confused, One of his eyebrows was knotted and he looked pretty angry too. I couldn't blame him, cause that elbow wasn't particularly polite either, on sweeter terms.
"What are you doing?" I asked him again. The whites of my eyes were stark red with veins in all the restless, weary, tired, sleep I had gotten today. I was a menacing sight to look at, looming over him, straddled on his hips. Bare thighs, bare legs, and just a thin light blue cotton t-shirt covering my chest and torso, greasy hair mussed up probably disgustedly. He looked up at me from the bed, where his neck was awkwardly bent to his head, leaning on the headboard.
The anger at the assault on his face dissipated as he assessed my face.
He made to bring his hand up to the side of my neck, where he'd been pressing his lips to, again, but I pushed his hand away as I saw it coming below me.
"Seriously Fang.. what do you think you're doing?" I asked him again, shaking my head confusedly.. hurt.
Suddenly, Fang's face was wiped of any emotion, even from me. It was a blank, clean slate, and he looked at me with level eyes from below me.
He sighed through his nostrils, before he pushed himself up on his palms on the bed to straighten himself out. His head was no longer bent at an awkward angle, but rather now, his whole torso was leaning against the headboard.
Quietly, and looking aside, he lifted me sluggishly by the hips—much to the lack of my cooperation—and maneuvered me again on his knee. I was facing him this time around. This time, he had raised his left knee, and pushed my legs onto either sides of it. He replaced the pad with a new one, and had it propelled against me on the thigh of his bent knee. Gently, he pushed my back down unto him, so that my head was laying nestled on his chest, my face turned to the side as our bodies faced one another. My back and my sore wings were to the ceiling, and his were probably laying pushed onto Iggy's bed, his back leaning on them, probably painfully. He gently nudged me, urging me to lay down on his chest. Hesitantly, I did, but only due to the incredible tiredness that was plaguing me. My legs wrapped around his bent knee comfortably. This was probably the most comfortable position we'd been in all day.
"Sleep, Max," he ordered, exasperation laced throughout every crevice of his voice and throat.
He brought down his hand down between my wings and rubbed softly, coldly, and impersonally, yet still beckoning me to the sleep that he had come calling. The one I thought I wouldn't be able to reach.
As I fell into a slumber, I heard a dark, quiet, low sigh somewhere off in the distance.
A/N:
Agh. No comment. Just. Agh.
Read and Review now.. Ugh.
You know that feeling when characters run out of your hands. Like, I dunno. I can't explain it.
Tell me if you liked this chapter.
I hope I did justice.
Thanks for all the feedback on Something Gone Wrong. I posted more up on that story if you guys are interested. This story is going on hiatus for a bit, but you can amuse yourselves with that one while I try to not give up on this one. Agh. I don't really feel inspired anymore and maybe its cause I'm updating faster these days, but my feedback rates are going down too, on this one. =(( Maybe its just that everyones on vacation, like I am soon to be on as well! ;)
Agh.
on another entirely unrelated note: it makes me feel the slightest bit guilty when i get these AWESOME long reviews from what sounds like intelligent people, who compliment my writing and my approach and all that good stuff. but the reason i get so guilty is because.. this story.. __ it was primarily meant to just be sorta perverted and then, end. once i actually started writing, i couldn't help but extend it into.. feelings.. and plot substance.. and thats how this turned out.. yet, there are still really perverted elements in here.. so yeah.. _ i hope i dont get pinned and blamed for being quite rather nasty, cause like.. thats sort of what i meant to do.. it was sort of like you know, me asking myself "can i really do this?" so thats why.. er, it was meant to be perverted and stuff. i guess it didn't quite turn out that way completely, but it still is.. which is why i feel guilty when people actually compliment the writing as if its good.. i had no intention to make it, actually good.. like, real writing. this is not something i'd enter into a writing comp or anything. everything i did at the beginning, was with the full complete intention to make this story.. sorta trashy.. hm.. okay. just saying. don't hate if this gets a bit too trashy for your own good.. its sort of what i meant to do, but now i've got all these intelligent readers who are reading for substance. i feel like im misleading everyone on, cause this story, was just truly, really, meant to be plain ol' trashy. Ah well..
On that note, I dunno about making Something Gone Wrong M-rated. I dunno. I'll see how that goes for now, and if I get enough people asking me to, then I'll probably do it. My intentions for that story do not couple with the ones I had when I first began writing this one. That new story, however, is also one where I'm challenging myself, but I asked myself "can i really do this and not make it completely gross?" whereas I foresaw Let Me Help You to be gross from the start. So yeah. We'll see. Sorry if none of the above makes any real sense to you, if you havent read it.
And to what I said above about those long, praising reviews.. Don't get me wrong; I love long reviews.. theyre my favorite kind, but don't worry, cause any and all feedback is great and makes me feel inspired and appreciated.. God, I'm so tired..
I'm on hiatus..
So, I hope you read and review. And hopefully, I'll get back quickly.
I'm not even sure if this hiatus will work though. The last time I had decided to stop writing this story, your reviews bombarded my email inbox enough for me to get annoyed and come back.. in just a single day. You guys are really awesome and all, but seriously, lol?