Hey guys. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
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Reviews:
Rosecoloredskies: THANK YOU. You are so nice. I like Jason, personally. I do like Sam more (a lot more) but I think you'll find Jason acts especially stupid this chapter. Poor kid. Haha.
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Chapter Seven: Losing Touch
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"Sam!" I shouted, laughing again, "Stop. Not funny."
"You seemed to think it was pretty funny," he said, eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for me to laugh again, which I did. I was soon in a rather embarrassing fit of giggles.
"Excuse me sir," I said, "I do believe that that is highly inappropriate employer/employee conversation." It really was. There was absolutely no way that talking about Jason's sexual escapades, with imaginative detail (on both our parts, I can't lie) is in any form appropriate. Then again, this wasn't necessarily a horrible conversation. I was having fun.
Especially when Sam's facial expression like grew two sizes in surprise when I told him Jason and I hadn't actually had sex until about two weeks into our little faux –relationship. He was in utter shock. I laughed so hard I snorted, which was wholly unattractive. But it did make me feel better when Sam almost tripped over a tree root when I did so.
Then I had showed him, er… tried to show him, the face Jason said when I told him we weren't fucking on date numero uno.
At which point we were both laughing so hard I felt tears brimming around my eyes. It was too funny.
"Jason is so… cute though," I said after a second, as I finally began to calm down, "It's like he just doesn't think before he does things. Acts completely on what he's feeling. It's like watching a weirdo science experiment."
"A science experiment? Where did you go to high school?" Sam laughed, "We had volcanos and potato lamps. No behavioral analysis."
"New York. I was a little advanced," I said, batting my eyelashes and putting my hand to my chest in some show of mock pride.
He chuckled, "Wow. That's… very far away… You do sound a little funny."
"Mixin' accents is weird as hell. Everyone thinks I talk funny." I shrugged.
"I've never been out of this area," he motioned around him.
"Bon Temps?" I asked.
He shook his head, "Nah, the south, really. I'm from Texas."
"Ooooh. Big-shot man from Texas," I teased, "How very cowboy."
"Big-shot woman from New York," he joked back, "Surprised you found yourself out here. Pretty random jump."
I nodded. It was. I'd been everywhere though. There wasn't a place I didn't want to settle down. After Mom and Dad split up Mom took me pretty much everywhere.
I looked back at Sam, "What?"
"Journalist to protester to waitress," he repeated himself, "You seem like a pretty busy girl."
"I… used to be," I shrugged, "Not very much anymore though. Obviously," I gestured towards Jason's house. "Sick of being busy. Too much."
"Makes sense, I guess," Sam said, as Jason's house came into view, "Oh, uh, I'd better get going," he said, turning a little. "The bar…"
"Yeah," I replied, "Nice chat, Sam." I smiled as he left, waving a little. I waved back, feeling a tad awkward as I did so.
"Jason!!" I yelled, jumping up his front steps, and reaching up to knock on his door.
"Hey," he said, opening it. My hand went forward and knocked on his chest. We both started laughing, and he leaned forward and kissed me quickly, "Missed ya'."
"Don't I know it," I giggled, moving under his arm and plopping on his couch. Jason's pad was much like one would expect in my opinion, messy, a little lazy-looking, and kind of just like a place to sleep. It's like all ne needed was a bed and a place to put his stuff. It was more like a locker than a house.
He came over and sat next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders, his lips instantly moving against my neck. I was going to object – a little conversation couldn't kill the mood, you know – but for some reason I don't very well remember we were soon laying on the couch, clothes off, bodies writhing against each other until eventually all thoughts of conversation we loooooong gone.
But then again, this is how it usually ended up when Jason invited me over. Not to say that I didn't really enjoy my visits, even when things had finally slowed, and we were just laying there, breathing heavily, seemingly almost subdued. He kissed me again, lips trailing against my jaw, down my neck, around my breasts, the back up all over again.
All of the sudden, his head popped up eyes locking on mine, "So, how was your day?"
I laughed, flicking him on the nose, "You're so weird."
"No," he laughed, "I'm serious," he sat me up and pulled his t-shirt on me, "What'd you do today?"
I looked at him curiously, but he nodded for me to go ahead, and he got up and pulled on his underwear, handing me my own – I had told him once that I felt so weird when I wasn't wearing underwear. He handed them to me every time we were together, with the same facial expression – a look like 'You need these.' I laughed.
I sat up, sitting Indian-style on the couch, he sat next to me, pulling me against him.
"Okay," I said, resting my head on his shoulder. "Let's see. I got up at two."
"Nice," he said, nudging me a little bit.
"I know. The bar's messing me up," I nudged him back, "Hm. Then I made dinner."
"What'd you make?" he asked, kissing me on the cheek.
"Spaghetti. It was amazing. I suggest you ask your sister or Sam for confirmation. They both seemed exceptionally pleased."
"Sam?"
"Yup. He stopped by to give me those shorts I need for my uniform. I can't keep wearing jeans, that's not sexy enough for Merlotte's." I looked up at him, waiting for him to object and say something cheesy like, 'Babe, nothing about you isn't sexy.'
But he said nothing. I nudged him.
"What?!" he laughed, "I wouldn't mind seeing you in those shorts. The jeans can only last so long-"
"You've seen me naked. I don't think it'd matter what pants I'm wearing once you've seen no pants at all," I joked.
He shrugged, "I don't know. It's just so much more…"
"Okay. We need not go farther," I laughed, "I get ya'."
"I thought you might," he laughed, hugging me a bit.
"Mhhm. Anyways, then I got dressed-"
"Sam comes over, and then you get dressed."
"Oh yes. Of course. You know how I am with the men, Jason. You have met your match."
He rolled his eyes, "How'd you find out about that?"
"Are you serious?" I laughed, "Everyone tells me the same story. Your sister compared your love of women to eating candy."
Jason messed up his hair, "Actually-"
"Jason! That's disgusting!"
He laughed, "What were you wearing?"
"Wouldn't you love to know?" I teased, standing, "This, basically," I twirled, "I sleep as such."
"Oh, really now?"
I nodded, he grinned, "Good to know."
"Anywhooo," I said, sitting back down, "Then we ate. Then I had to come here, so Sam decided to walk me over-"
"Okay. Hang on a second," Jason said, "He comes over to give you the shorts."
"Yup," I said, kissing his cheek, "Then we eat."
"You invited him to eat." I nodded, "After he saw you like so." I nodded again. "And then he walks you home?"
"Yeah… so? I thought it'd be good for us to get to know each other. We do work together, after all."
"Em," he said, "I don't think you really see what's going on, here."
I was confused, "Huh?"
"Sam's into you," he laughed, "And, I, personally, don't think it's a good idea for you to be hanging out with someone who's into you. I mean, you're with me," he pointed to himself, "And-"
"And, what? Jason, what are you saying?"
"I don't want you-"
"You don't want me hanging out with Sam?"
"I-"
"You can't always get what you want, babe," I said, quickly.
Jason looked at me quickly, face blank. He looked a little surprised. "Oh well," he said, "We're together. I like what we have going on here. It's good. We're good. I don't want someone coming in and messing all of-"
"No one's messing anything up. And furthermore, don't you just trust me enough to know that if Sam were to make a move on me I would stop him?"
"I don't know that!" He said, I could feel my jaw drop, my eyes widen, and my entire body go on defense, "I've seen how he looks at you, Em. I know that he's not just going to-"
"It's not like that Jason! I could stop him if I wanted to-"
"What if you didn't want to?"
"Are you really so seriously insecure that you would even stop to think that I like someone else?"
"Yeah!" he shouted, nodding his head vigorously, "I mean we have nothing in common!"
"We have absolutely nothing in common!" I shouted back.
"You've fucked a vampire-"
"You've fucked everyone else-"
"You don't take things seriously-"
"You're overprotective!" I shouted.
"I know! Which is supposedly a good thing! But not to you!"
"I'm sorry I'm different!"
"I don't care how different you are, I just want to know how you actually feel about me," he said, much more seriously.
I paused. We looked at each other for a second.
"I… don't know," I said, partly pissed, partly serious. "I-"
"I don't think I can't be serious. I mean I can, I just don't think I could do it with you."
"Why not?" I yelled, suddenly very angry again.
"Because there's something about you I don't know how to deal with. I just-" He looked away for a moment, "I don't just wanna be your fallback or whatever you're usin' me for. I'm-"
"Not being used," I said, "I wouldn't do that, Jason. Who do you think I am?"
"I have no idea. And whoever you are, I know you aren't interested in being with me. So, I guess… that's it. I don't wanna see you anymore."
"You're… You're breaking up with me?" my voice jumped like three octaves higher than any voice should ever be, "Are you serious??? You're breaking up with me?? What the fuck is this? The Twilight Zone?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded.
"You're the one with the issues. I'm breaking up with you. End of story," I walked past him, pulling my jeans on.
"No you aren't!" He shouted, "I'm sooooo breaking up with you."
"Nope," I said simply, pulling my shirt off and walking around for my bra.
"Uh, yep," he said, watching me as I stood up.
"Oh really?" I said, pulling on my bra. I walked over and pulled on my blouse, buttoning it slowly.
"Yeah," he said, staring at me.
"Really really?" I asked talking much, much, slower, looking up at him. I was on the third button from the bottom, and still working my way up. I bit my lip, smirking a little.
"Um…," he swallowed, and I could feel my smile grow wider, "I… Yeah…"
"Jason," I said sweetly, "What are we talking about?"
I stopped at my fourth button, taking the time to re-adjust my bra.
"Um…"
I rolled my eyes, turning away, "Oh yes. So breaking up with you."
He cursed under his breath, and started yelling again.
I walked out the door, "Oh, shut it, Jason." I slammed the door. It made a kind of fwhap-type noise, not really a hefty slam. It made me feel a little anti-climactic, really. I scowled, and started walking as fast as I could.
I could feel my blood rushing fast and faster. My heart was pumping like I was on some sort of high. I stopped, tried to slow my breathing. I didn't want to let anything get out of hand. Mom always told me that it was dangerous. I couldn't let myself get out of control.
I wiped my forehead; I was sweating like crazy. My hand was shaking. Adrenaline was never good for me. I put up my hair. Pacing, I ran my hand up and down my leg, trying to cool myself off before starting the walk home.
I bit my lip hard, shutting my eyes as tight as they would go.
Then I felt something collide with my side.
I fell. Dust flew up around me, but I doubt I was heard. I was already too far from Jason's for anyone to hear me. My side screamed in pain. I opened my eyes to stare into two dark ones.
"Hello," they said.
I felt a sharp kick to my knee. I screamed.
"Not so tough now, I see."
I tried to get up, but someone moved onto my back.
There was another kick to my side, followed by another, and another until I could take it anymore. The other was pushing against me, pressure was building up everywhere, but I knew I couldn't take either of them. The hands on my back were too cold. Their moves were too quick.
"Stop," I said, lacking any other thing to say.
"No," one said, putting a sharp kick to my shoulder.
"Watch the neck," the other said, "She's percolating still," the one on top snickered.
The voices sounded familiar, but no names came to mind, of course. I tried to stay under control. The beatings continued until I was to weak to move, then the other joined in.
I curled up as best I could, then one moved down, unlatching my wrist from the rest of my body. I tried to move away, feeling stupid as I did so. "Please," I said, trying to pull my wrist back but only creating a shooting pain down my arm.
"You're stronger than them, huh?" he said, blonde hair standing out in the moonlight, he'd been on top of me not to long ago. It was the woman whose boot had been imprinted into my body. The man leaned forward, teeth sinking into my wrist. I screamed.
"Hurts?" he said, "I would glamour you, but I've heard it doesn't work too well on you."
I shut my eyes as tight as I could again. He started drinking.
My wrist hit the ground, and I tried to crawl. The woman kicked me again, hard. I flew towards a tree, my back cracking before I fell, I couldn't move, the pain was so strong. She moved over to me, leaning down and moving my neck, sinking her fangs in, only drinking a little.
They kept feeding, all over my body. I soon just gave up moving, each time I'd feel a little better, despite the blood loss, I'd be beaten again. Fresh wounds to cover the old.
Then there were lights.
I shut my eyes again, trying my best to seem dead, in case more were coming. I felt like crying. It was weird though, that I didn't. Nothing came out. It felt like I was empty, devoid of all things worth crying for. All that mattered didn't even seem to matter. The pain subsided as my blood did, into the vamps, into the ground.
I woke up after hearing a crack. I saw little flashes of movement around me, heard some noises I couldn't identify. But mainly, I heard a voice.
"Em," it said, sounding choked, "Oh my God," it said, "Bill, she needs help. Now."
I heard another crack, and then I felt a shadow come over me. My mind went into alert, and I tried to move, but just groaned. I choked a little, tasting more blood at the back of my throat. I was going to die, I realized. This was it. I was going to die. I didn't think I'd realize my death was coming. I'd always thought it was going to be instant, you know. I didn't know what to think.
There were so many things I still wanted to do, so many more conversation I needed to have-
I felt something shook me, and I felt like I was going to throw up, my eyes stayed open, I could vaguely hear some arguing. It didn't matter to me anymore. Nothing did. My life was so pointless. I was killed by the very things I tried to protect. I felt nothing for anyone, I can't even imagine going to any semblance of a heaven – did I even believe in a god?! Hell, who cares? I was going to die anyway. Decisions and confessions couldn't be made anymore. I could feel myself slowly slipping away.
"Emily! You wake the fuck up!" suddenly tore through my thoughts, "Bill Compton if your wrist is not in front of her face within the next five seconds I will never speak to you again."
"Sookie you don't understand."
"Bill!" Sookie shouted, I could see her next to me, Merlotte's shirt now bloody, but still gleaming.
"No," I tried to say, but it just sounded grumbled and gross and unrecognizable.
"Bill!" Sookie yelled again, and I could smell the blood in front of my face. I tried to keep my mouth shut, I tried to turn away, I tried to not let him do it but-
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And that's the end of chapter seven.
Nice little cliffhanger, no? I think it's beautiful.
Next chapter, we're moving back in with Mr. Bill Compton, and maybe you guys will have a few things explained to you. Hopefully you're horribly confused.
Chapter eight shall come as quick as possible, I promise!!!
Oh, and reviews are once again much appreciated.
