Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
**The following is a work of fiction. No offense intended to anyone, it’s all meant in good fun. Strong language, semi-adult themes
Chapter Twenty-three
Larry offered to let Alyx stay with him and his father, but she needed to face her family sooner or later. She figured right then was as good a time as any. Maybe it would even help her feel better about herself, if she could look her past in the eye and not break down. She made him drop her off at the curb and would not let him even get out of the car, let alone come inside with her. She was facing the demons of her past, but she didn’t want him to see them.
The minute the door opened, she was grateful for her decision to send him on his way. Her brother stood there in his underwear, his ribs and joints all bulging against his skin. His hair was dirty and matted against his head, and his eyes were deep dark pools of nothingness. He didn’t recognize her.
“Aw, Jimmy. What’ve ye done to yerself?” She breathed, her heart aching for the boy she’d known as a child.
“Alyx?” He asked, scratching his head brutally. She wondered if he’d drawn blood and tried to catch a glance at his fingernails as he lowered his hand to rest on the door again. “What are you doin’ here?”
“It’s Christmas.” She told him, not being sarcastic in the least. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been completely unaware of the day. She pushed past him into the same flat that she had run from years ago. The years had not been kind to it. The sofa was a soiled, tattered mess. The carpet was of indiscernible color and pattern beneath the trash and stains that covered it. On a milk crate in front of the one easy chair there was a stub of a candle, a spoon, and a needle.
“Jimmy, tell me this isn’t yours.” She asked, although she already knew it was.
“It helps me deal with this great big steaming pile o’shite excuse of a life.” He replied, gathering the things up and setting them aside in his room, closing the door quickly so she could not see the condition that room was in.
“You ever think it makes your life the steaming pile o’shite?” She complained.
“Piss off. You don’t have a fucking clue what it’s like here.”
“I know exactly what it’s like here, Jimmy!”
“You got out, Lexy.” He told her, using the old nickname only Jimmy and her father had ever called her by. He sank in the chair as if too exhausted to support his own meager weight any longer. “You’re not like the rest of us, and you’ll never understand.”
“You’re right about that. I won’t ever understand. But I’m no different from you, Jimmy. I just made different choices.” She told him, cautiously sinking down onto her knee beside his chair. “You can get out, too. It isn’t too late.”
“Well if it isn’t little Mary feckin’ sunshine.” She heard a gravelly voice say from behind her. A rattling cough and the tinkle of ice in a glass followed, and she knew before she turned that her mother would be standing in the doorway to the tiny kitchen.
“Happy Christmas to you as well, Mum.” She said, trying to hide her revulsion when she saw the way the woman had aged. She looked more like a woman of eighty years than fifty-five. Her mother mumbled something unintelligible and flopped herself down onto the couch.
Alyx sighed and hung her head in defeat. She was home.
**************************************************************
“Is that offer to stay with you at your fathers still good?” She’d asked the minute he picked up the phone. Not even ‘Hello, it’s me.’ Larry knew it must have gone horribly just from that. He’d hurried back to the towers to pick her up, and she’d climbed into the car silently. It was dark outside, and inside the car there was only the faint glow from the dashboard, but he could see the pain in her eyes.
They entered the house quietly, his father having already gone to bed for the night. Larry guided her by the hand to the room he had slept in throughout his childhood. It was small but tidy. He had taken great care to keep it from turning shabby in any way. There was just one small lamp burning, on a table beside the twin bed, and shadows danced along the walls.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Larry was telling her, pulling his trusty sleeping bag out of the closet. She smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“We can both fit in the bed.” She told him, and he felt his heart turn a somersault. They had not spent an entire night together, yet. There was no way to fit them both into this bed without touching, pressing against one another. How many nights had he lay in that bed as a teenager and fantasized about having a girl like Alyx there with him? His pulse was racing already.
There was no need for words. Both of them knew the time was right; they both wanted the same thing. She needed him to touch her as badly as he wanted to do the touching. It was not just their bodies but their souls which ached to know one another. He kissed her softly, his tongue probing gently. Soft, wet strokes of his tongue and lips bringing a gentle promise of both passion and something deeper. Something neither of them had been able to say, but which had been developing all the same. Love.
*********************************************************************
“I’m afraid your father must’ve heard that.” She told him nervously.
Shit. His father. Oh, bloody hell, how had he forgotten where he was? The answer was obvious, of course. How could he have not lost track of everything but her in those moments?
“I guess we’ll just have to be quieter next time.” He mumbled, kissing her jaw lightly. She chuckled, relieved that he wasn’t horrified at the possibility. With a happy sigh, she lay her head against his chest, draped one leg over him and slipped into a contented slumber.
******************************************************************
“You’re insane!” Natalie hissed, having dragged Bono out of the living room, back up the stairs and into the bedroom they were sharing.
“Is that a yes?” Bono asked playfully.
“No! How … What are you thinking? Married?” Natalie demanded, tossing her hands in the air.
“I was thinking I love you, you love me… if we get married we don’t have any reason to hide anymore.” He told her, stretching out on the bed in a defiantly casual pose.
“Oh, sure! I see. Let’s run off to Vegas right now.” She told him sarcastically. She covered her face with her hands. She had stopped dreaming of a perfect proposal years ago, but even so this would never have been in her wildest dreams. How could he think he was ready for something like that? She flopped down on the bed, the back of her arm draped over her eyes.
“I’m ready.” He told her, “let’s go.”
“Marriage isn’t a neat tidy little way to clean up loose ends, B. It’s a whole new complication to be dealt with on top of everything that was already there.”
“You don’t have to say yes.” He told her, and she moved her arm to look up at him in surprise. “I didn’t expect you to, yet.”
“What?” She asked, her voice reflecting the distress in her heart.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Nat. I’ll keep asking until you say yes.” He threatened, smiling at her deviously. Her heart throbbed at the sight of that smile. He really wanted to spend his life with her? How was that possible, she wondered. She reached out to stroke his cheek with her thumb and he covered her hand with his own, kissing her palm.
“Next time, maybe without so many witnesses?” She begged weakly.
“Mmm-mmm.” He mumbled, shaking his head. “Next time there’ll be more.”
those of you interested should check your inboxes for an unedited version
Chapter Twenty-three
Larry offered to let Alyx stay with him and his father, but she needed to face her family sooner or later. She figured right then was as good a time as any. Maybe it would even help her feel better about herself, if she could look her past in the eye and not break down. She made him drop her off at the curb and would not let him even get out of the car, let alone come inside with her. She was facing the demons of her past, but she didn’t want him to see them.
The minute the door opened, she was grateful for her decision to send him on his way. Her brother stood there in his underwear, his ribs and joints all bulging against his skin. His hair was dirty and matted against his head, and his eyes were deep dark pools of nothingness. He didn’t recognize her.
“Aw, Jimmy. What’ve ye done to yerself?” She breathed, her heart aching for the boy she’d known as a child.
“Alyx?” He asked, scratching his head brutally. She wondered if he’d drawn blood and tried to catch a glance at his fingernails as he lowered his hand to rest on the door again. “What are you doin’ here?”
“It’s Christmas.” She told him, not being sarcastic in the least. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had been completely unaware of the day. She pushed past him into the same flat that she had run from years ago. The years had not been kind to it. The sofa was a soiled, tattered mess. The carpet was of indiscernible color and pattern beneath the trash and stains that covered it. On a milk crate in front of the one easy chair there was a stub of a candle, a spoon, and a needle.
“Jimmy, tell me this isn’t yours.” She asked, although she already knew it was.
“It helps me deal with this great big steaming pile o’shite excuse of a life.” He replied, gathering the things up and setting them aside in his room, closing the door quickly so she could not see the condition that room was in.
“You ever think it makes your life the steaming pile o’shite?” She complained.
“Piss off. You don’t have a fucking clue what it’s like here.”
“I know exactly what it’s like here, Jimmy!”
“You got out, Lexy.” He told her, using the old nickname only Jimmy and her father had ever called her by. He sank in the chair as if too exhausted to support his own meager weight any longer. “You’re not like the rest of us, and you’ll never understand.”
“You’re right about that. I won’t ever understand. But I’m no different from you, Jimmy. I just made different choices.” She told him, cautiously sinking down onto her knee beside his chair. “You can get out, too. It isn’t too late.”
“Well if it isn’t little Mary feckin’ sunshine.” She heard a gravelly voice say from behind her. A rattling cough and the tinkle of ice in a glass followed, and she knew before she turned that her mother would be standing in the doorway to the tiny kitchen.
“Happy Christmas to you as well, Mum.” She said, trying to hide her revulsion when she saw the way the woman had aged. She looked more like a woman of eighty years than fifty-five. Her mother mumbled something unintelligible and flopped herself down onto the couch.
Alyx sighed and hung her head in defeat. She was home.
**************************************************************
“Is that offer to stay with you at your fathers still good?” She’d asked the minute he picked up the phone. Not even ‘Hello, it’s me.’ Larry knew it must have gone horribly just from that. He’d hurried back to the towers to pick her up, and she’d climbed into the car silently. It was dark outside, and inside the car there was only the faint glow from the dashboard, but he could see the pain in her eyes.
They entered the house quietly, his father having already gone to bed for the night. Larry guided her by the hand to the room he had slept in throughout his childhood. It was small but tidy. He had taken great care to keep it from turning shabby in any way. There was just one small lamp burning, on a table beside the twin bed, and shadows danced along the walls.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Larry was telling her, pulling his trusty sleeping bag out of the closet. She smiled and rested a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“We can both fit in the bed.” She told him, and he felt his heart turn a somersault. They had not spent an entire night together, yet. There was no way to fit them both into this bed without touching, pressing against one another. How many nights had he lay in that bed as a teenager and fantasized about having a girl like Alyx there with him? His pulse was racing already.
There was no need for words. Both of them knew the time was right; they both wanted the same thing. She needed him to touch her as badly as he wanted to do the touching. It was not just their bodies but their souls which ached to know one another. He kissed her softly, his tongue probing gently. Soft, wet strokes of his tongue and lips bringing a gentle promise of both passion and something deeper. Something neither of them had been able to say, but which had been developing all the same. Love.
*********************************************************************
“I’m afraid your father must’ve heard that.” She told him nervously.
Shit. His father. Oh, bloody hell, how had he forgotten where he was? The answer was obvious, of course. How could he have not lost track of everything but her in those moments?
“I guess we’ll just have to be quieter next time.” He mumbled, kissing her jaw lightly. She chuckled, relieved that he wasn’t horrified at the possibility. With a happy sigh, she lay her head against his chest, draped one leg over him and slipped into a contented slumber.
******************************************************************
“You’re insane!” Natalie hissed, having dragged Bono out of the living room, back up the stairs and into the bedroom they were sharing.
“Is that a yes?” Bono asked playfully.
“No! How … What are you thinking? Married?” Natalie demanded, tossing her hands in the air.
“I was thinking I love you, you love me… if we get married we don’t have any reason to hide anymore.” He told her, stretching out on the bed in a defiantly casual pose.
“Oh, sure! I see. Let’s run off to Vegas right now.” She told him sarcastically. She covered her face with her hands. She had stopped dreaming of a perfect proposal years ago, but even so this would never have been in her wildest dreams. How could he think he was ready for something like that? She flopped down on the bed, the back of her arm draped over her eyes.
“I’m ready.” He told her, “let’s go.”
“Marriage isn’t a neat tidy little way to clean up loose ends, B. It’s a whole new complication to be dealt with on top of everything that was already there.”
“You don’t have to say yes.” He told her, and she moved her arm to look up at him in surprise. “I didn’t expect you to, yet.”
“What?” She asked, her voice reflecting the distress in her heart.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Nat. I’ll keep asking until you say yes.” He threatened, smiling at her deviously. Her heart throbbed at the sight of that smile. He really wanted to spend his life with her? How was that possible, she wondered. She reached out to stroke his cheek with her thumb and he covered her hand with his own, kissing her palm.
“Next time, maybe without so many witnesses?” She begged weakly.
“Mmm-mmm.” He mumbled, shaking his head. “Next time there’ll be more.”
those of you interested should check your inboxes for an unedited version
that Bono ain't giving up easily eh?
the story!
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