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A most peculiar mademoiselle ([personal profile] axeslade) wrote2007-05-25 04:12 pm

How do I save you from the mess you're in?

Went to the park today in drama. Pretty fun. Sat and listened to Mike and Ben do improvs about weird hippies and carniverous trees. Annnd FINALLY! Rough draft of chapter 6 of Vase Full Of Blood

I really didn’t sleep that night. My eyes were closed, but I remained keenly aware of everything in the apartment. Particularly Pam. I kept one hand just below her breasts, trying to ignore the swell of them, instead focusing on the rise and fall of her breath. In an attempt to ignore the tiny sounds she made in her sleep, I instead listened for each beat of her heart.


I’m sure I slept at some point, because at some point I became aware of the fact that Pam was no longer beneath my hands. I bolted upright the instant I realized this, turning my head in all directions, frantically trying to pick up her smell. That’s when I heard her laugh.


I turned towards the sound and found that she was standing just a few feet from me, and that my frenzied movements had distracted her from looking through a pile of clothes. She dropped the bra and shirt she was holding and walked over to me.


“Did I scare you?” she said teasingly. I glared at her.


“Damn right you did. Christ, how do you do that?”


“Do what?” she asked sweetly as she turned her back to me and lifted her shirt over her head. I turned my head away at the first glimpse of her smooth white back, keeping my eyes on her ragged carpet as I spoke.


“Get up without me hearing you.”


From the corner of my eye I saw one shoulder shrug.


“Dunno. Guess I’m just quiet. Or you sleep like a rock.”


I laughed at that.


“You must have mouse blood in you somewhere, because I assure you I am a very light sleeper, and I’m definitely not deaf either.”


She snorted.


“You can turn around now,” she said angelically. “I’m decent. Or as decent as I’ll ever get.”


I rolled my eyes and turned back around. Instead of a stained tank-top and skirt, she was now wearing blue jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt. The long sleeves, definitely odd for this weather, reminded me of what had transpired the night before. I stood up, following her as she walked into her kitchen.


“Pam?”


“Mmm?” she hummed as she looked through the fridge. I swallowed as I was given a much-too pleasant glance at her backside, forcing myself to sit on her couch and look at the little television in front of it as I spoke.


“You asked me, last night, why I had blood on my hands,” I started quietly, tightening my fingers on a pillow as I thought about whose blood had stained my fingers and why.


“Yeah?” she said, obviously not paying much attention. I sighed.


“I ah…I had come up, to check on you, like I said. And I saw this guy coming out of your apartment, and he smelled like…” I pressed my lips together, trying to find the right way to say this. Even if it was true, even if Pam was what that bastard had told me she was, I still couldn’t say those kinds of words in front of her. She was a lady. Maybe not a proper one, but still a lady.


“Like what?” she prompted, sounding a little anxious now.


I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes as I spoke.


“He smelled like sex.”


I could smell the tension on her now, but she seemed to shrug it off.


“So? I told you I had a boyfriend, didn’t I?”


“You did,” I admitted, “but you also said he lived with you. Why would he have left after sex, especially if you were in the shape I found you in?”


She was sweating a little now, her face was probably red with blood too. “He had to go to work.”


“Then wouldn’t he be back by now? And why did I smell blood on him, Pam? Huh?” I said, getting irritated. I shouldn’t have been, but I was.


I heard something break, then. Probably a plate falling onto the floor. I didn’t have time to ask if she was all right, though, since an instant later she was storming back into the room, red hair trailing furiously behind her and normally-cool turquoise eyes turned to raging green tempests.


“What the hell is it to you who I sleep with and why and what we do?” she snapped, face flush and teeth set in a snarl. I couldn’t even think about how tempting she looked with all the blood rushing around under her skin because, for whatever insane reason, I was absolutely terrified that this tiny human girl would hurt me. So I grabbed the nearest weapon at hand.


I reached my fingers down to the floor, picking up the syringe.


“This is why you slept with him. He told me, when I was beating him up because I thought he’d raped you.”


She swallowed, turning away from me. I saw the blood rush away from her face suddenly, and if I hadn’t worked myself into such a fury I probably would have gotten up to hold her. As it was, I just kept going on my rampage, standing up to taunt her with the syringe.


“That’s what those men in the alley were doing, right? You needed a fix, they could give you the money for it, but things went wrong? Right?”


She swallowed, nodding tensely. I smelled the tears, and the angry monster inside me that wanted to tear her throat out suddenly backed down. I started to reach for her, but she inched away.


“You don’t know me, okay? You don’t understand. I’ve made some stupid choices, but there are reasons. What happened in the alley…they were gonna kill me. You know that. Last night was no big deal, but that night was. You saved my life, and I’m thankful for that, but…what the hell right do you have throwing all this in my face, trying to tell me how to live my life? That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Calling me a slut and a junkie?” she turned to face me, eyes bloodshot and lips trembling. “I am all that, but what right do you have telling me to be anything different?”


I sighed, pulling my hands back so I wouldn’t be tempted to touch her. I dropped the syringe into her palm.


“Because apparently I am one of the craziest people in the world, because for whatever fucked up reason, I’m in love with you. I don’t know why, but I am. But if you don’t want that, if you don’t want to get out of this life, that’s fine by me, Pam. I’m sorry I bothered you,” I said quietly, turning away from her. I had to get out of here. Had to. Even if she suddenly decided she wanted to ‘go straight’, I was even worse for her than those boys she got her drug money from. She might see me as Prince Charming, and then find out too late that I was the ogre. So, before she decided to leave this messy little cottage for my dungeon, I walked out and raced down the stairs. I wasn’t quick enough, though, to escape the sound and smell of her hysterical tears.