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Post by Santino Morrison-Novak on Apr 6, 2010 12:13:21 GMT -6
 SANTINO A. MORRISON-NOVAKSONNY AND ESME'S APARTMENT, LATE NIGHT, NOVEMBER 2007[/font] --------------------------------------------------------[/center] -----what was he thinking? he must have been in some type of drug when he decided to accept this job. its not like he didnt have other offers, and its not like he was in need of work. but no, he had to go and get the one job that was sure to turn him into an alcoholic. there was something seriously wrong with the kids in that school and sonny could honestly say that he never imagined that the students that attended valkyrie academy could be so damn screwed. this was such a small town, seemingly ordinary. that couldnt be furthest from the truth. every day was the same, wake up, go to work, have some coffee, listening to a 12th grader bitch and complain about their drug addicted father or their whore of a mother, or to a 10th grader about teen pregnancy. then lunch time would come around and he would sit with eric in the faculty lounge where he would eat the sandwich he had made for himself, while everyone else enjoyed the greasy and unhealthy food the lunch lady had prepared that day. no one noticed anymore, but when he started working here, everyone would stop and stare and just watch him eat. like he was some kind of freak, just because he preferred to take his own lunch from home, and use his own utensils and wipe the table and the chair he was sitting at with baby wipes to make sure it was all germ free. hell, he worried about things like that, alright? he had an issue with things being cleaned so that automatically turned him into some kind of circus act. not to mention the fact that everyone seemed to have an ongoing poll on how many times he would trip over a himself. so santino was not what you would call "normal", but who was these days? the fact that he, being such a commodity and have so many issues could be assigned to give out counseling to others baffled most of his work mates. he was obsessive compulsive, among other things, but he was not psychotic. he was not a danger to himself or anyone else. the fact that he had certain psychological problems did not mean that he would one day bring a gun to school and start shooting up the place. people could be so close minded sometimes.
-----truth was, that even though it bothered him at some point, the stares and the whispers around the halls, he was now used to it. there was little he could do about it anyway, and this was not a guy to change only so he could satisfy someone else or live up to other people's expectations. he had his family and his friends and that was all that mattered. they were the only opinions that he gave a crap about, and even then, he had a difficult time getting along with them. the guy was not someone who could easily adapt to a situation, but he was surprised to realize how easy it had been to come back to the academy as a member of the faculty other than a student. the fact that he had eric around made things easier, and made him feel a lot more comfortable. deep down he really loved his job, but there were days were he just wanted to say fuck this shit and drive home and drown himself in a bottle of jack daniels. this was one of those days. if there was something he hated is not having control. his whole life he had every aspect of his life perfectly organized and lately he has been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. maybe he was starting to feel restless because he was no longer looking at his sister esme the same way. no, they were not blood related, thats fucking sick, but still, they grew up together and all of his life he had seen her as a sister. so in a way, he did feel pretty bad when he saw her walking around the apartment they shared wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a tight t-shirt and suddenly realize that he was getting an erection. he always ignored it, and he was pretty damn good at pretending that nothing was going on. still, deep down he couldnt help the guilt that grew in his gut. he came to the conclusion that all of these feelings were probably just him being sexually repressed. i mean, it had been a while since he had sex and maybe this was just his body letting him know that it was time for him to stick his penis into something before exploding. sonny was not the type to sleep around. sure he had his fair share of one night stands in the past, but he didnt make it a habit. no, as corny as it might sound, he was happier just being with that one person he felt comfortable sharing every aspect of his life with. the guy was aware that he was a rather difficult individual and than most people just found him to be incredibly obnoxious. so the fact that anyone would stuck around him for so long meant a lot to him. he got attached pretty quickly, which seemed to be his downfall, since he often trusted people just to be let down in the end. he had been hurt in the past, and that was the reason why he had been so weary about opening up to anyone.
-----this particular day, after work, sonny was going to spend the afternoon cleaning. it calmed him and it made him feel so much better regaining that control he needed. esme had left early for work, and knowing her, he was not going to be home until later. he would call him to ask her if she was going to make it for dinner so he could order something or maybe cook something but then he remembered she mentioned something about going out with her boyfriend. sonny didnt like her boyfriend. after taking a long shower and getting dressed, he took a look in the mirror and approved of what he was looking at. he liked to think he was a good looking guy, but he was not completely in love with him like some people around these parts seemed to be. he walked back into his bedroom, looking at the messy bed, it had to be done before he did everything else. the guy wasn't sure why he tried to sleep. he had short term insomnia yet again. after drinking some coffee and an energy drink, sonny started fixing up the bedroom, organizing the closets, color coordinating everything. the living room was a mess. "jesus esme" he loved the girl, but she was such a slob sometimes. once the rooms were organized and he had collected all the dirty laundry, he placed it all in a basket and began to wash a few loads while he took care of the living room. there were dirty dishes in the kitchen, and the couch was all dusty. hours upon hours of doing nothing but cleaning. this was his vacation. no, the guy was not boring. he didn't stay indoors doing this shit all the time. hell, he loved to party just as hard as the next guy, but the place needed some serious work right now and if he didnt take care of it, no one would.
-----once he was done, he looked at the clock and noticed the time. holy shit, it was late. too late to start cooking, so he grabbed the phone and decided to order some chinese food. he spent so much worried about getting the place looking good, that he completely forgot to eat. after ordering dinner, he thought of calling esme to make sure she was alright. but then he realized hos stupid the idea of that was. she was probably with the guy doing things he didnt want to think about and the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt. he couldnt help worry about her though, specially because he knew that the guy she was currently dating was no good to her. he was no stranger to bad relationships. he was with this girl for a year, then the next thing he knew, the girl cheated on him, left him and now she was married to the guy and living in a condo in florida. she sent sonny an email a few days ago telling him how she was happy to be expecting her second child and everything. apparently she was under the impression that they were still friends. so he saw the signs and he had a feeling that her boyfriend had someone on the side. still, he was not really 100 per cent sure, so he opted to stay out of it. later, he made his way to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of jack, poured himself a glass and headed back to the living room to where the stereo was. pretty soon the stereo was blasting the evita soundtrack (yes, the evita soundtrack, fuck you, he likes it) and sonny was standing in front of the couch with a half empty bottle of scotch on his hand singing his heart out to dont cry for me argentina "...dont cry for me agentina! the truth is i neeeever left you. all through my wild days! my mad existence! i kept my promiiiiiise! dont keep your distance..."
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status• finished
words • 1598
tagged • esme
clothes this minus the shades
notes • oh the drama.
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Post by esmeraldaavellano on Apr 7, 2010 23:39:43 GMT -6
well i'm starting to fall in love
• A N D I T ' S G E T T I N G T O O M U C H •
• it's not often that i slip up • and it's just my luck ![/font][/center] IT HAD BEEN AN ORDINARY morning, an ordinary day at work, and an ordinary evening so far. esmeralda had woken up at 6.15 on the dot, stepped on her scale, and began her day with a smile because she was a pound less than she was last night. progress. her morning mug of herbal tea was sugarless, like it normally was, and her drive to the shop was, as usual, uneventful. there had been a handful of customers throughout the day, no issue with business or anything. it wasn't even necessary for her to be there, really. but she had had a feeling that something urgent was going to happen today. she couldn't place her finger on it, but you could bet your bottom dollar that she wouldn't miss it. every teen, every adult, every child that walked in had been quickly given a once-over from behind oversized chanel shades, and watched carefully as they perused the aisles and shelves. by the time she had left for a lunch break at the organic deli down the street, she had seen three women steal suspicious glances at her vintage ballgown in the window display- greedy eyes lusting over cream colored tulle and luscious ribbons -, a teenage boy try to sneak a retro pair of wayfarers out the front door while he thought she wasn't looking (she was), and an old woman actually SNEEZE on a pair of lace gloves. yes, sneeze. esmeralda hadn't even bothered to wait for the elderly sleazebag to leave before she had grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and went to town. the woman had looked offended but, really? who was she to get an attitude after she just shot her nasty nose germs all over esme's merchandise? one chilled glance from the shopowner had the little old lady scurrying out the door in no time at all. problem solved.
ANYWAY, LUNCH HAD BEEN PRETTY normal, too. it was the usual routine: cross the street and get to the end of the block in one piece (easy), open the door like she's opening the door to somewhere important (easy), give the young man behind the counter a flirty smile as he handed her her veggie wrap (so, so easy), turn on her expensive heel, and stride back to her shop (easy and easy). were her days always this boring? esmeralda's face pinched the slightest bit as she realized, yes, they probably were. her wrap was probably always this bland, too. ugh. looking down at the bright lettuce and tomato, she scrunched her nose and tossed the food into the wastebasket behind the counter. she'll be thinner and prettier this way, anyway. as she pursed her lips, folded her arms, and looked out over her boutique from behind the cash register, she couldn't help but wonder if sonny had noticed her eating habits. there were two possible answers: 1) he had and was just being a sweetheart, (somehow) editing his thoughts so as to not say anything about it, or 2) he genuinely hadn't noticed. esme wasn't sure which answer she preferred. but it was okay, because it was santino. sonny. he would love her no matter what. speaking of love – she had a date tonight. like most casual dates around valkyrie were, it was to be at that club 'bare'. not a big deal. she had been through it a million times with boys, and a thousand with this one. his name was dustin. dustin the bad boy, dustin the dirty talker, dustin the one with the big, sexy hands that fit so perfectly to every curve esmeralda possessed. she had had quite a few boyfriends in her life, but he was probably on her top five list of the sexiest ones. was it love? nah. but it was nice. he was really, really good with compliments, making her feel like the prettiest (and thinnest) girl alive, and she liked that in a man. she needed that. tonight would be just like most other nights, a long night at bare with plenty of dancing, making out, and drinking, then maybe -if dustin was being especially fantastic- she'd let him take her home and keep him company through the night. you know what, today was absolutely ridiculous so far. the shop was busy, sure, but her employees handled all of it. there was no reason for esme to be here, honestly, and she still had a whole hour and a half until closing. she was about to let out a long and dramatic sigh when her phone beeped from it's place next to her arm, on the counter. someone loves me!
it was about time someone thought of her. she opened the text – it was from dustin – that read, “where r u”[/color] and frowned. dumb, dumb chatspeak. was it honestly that hard to type out a few extra letters and actually form words? apparently. her fingers dashed to send a reply. “i'm still at work...why?”[/color] beep. “im @ bare”[/color] frowning, esmeralda glanced at the clock on the back wall, which read 6.30, before typing back, “okay? haha, i'll be there around nine.”[/color] she waited a moment before 'beep!'. his text very briefly explained that, no, she should come right now. esmeralda smiled down at the message and rolled her eyes. so needy! but she had nothing better to do, so why not? when she glanced at the quizzical faces of the young kids who worked for her, her smile only broadened. her explanation for leaving early was, “i guess i'm just irresistible!”[/color] “WE WERE THE KINGS AND queens of promise, we were the victims of ourselves.”[/color] it wasn't uncommon for esmeralda to have her car stereo cranked up to the popular radio station of the area. tonight was no different. jared leto was something of a god, really, with a voice like that. yummy. and the lyrics were great, but they made esmeralda almost laugh outloud. she still was the queen, and she wasn't a victim of anything. life was good. as soon as she was parked outside of the club, bass thumping out the walls and seeping between her ribs, she killed the engine and dug her lipgloss out from her purse. looking in the rearview mirror, she dragged the applicator across her vaseline-softened lips and rubbed them together to spread out the shiny strawberry cream flavored gloss. next came the tiny tease of the hair and a wink in the mirror. well, she blew herself a kiss for good measure – what could she say? she was excited to see dustin. it was a thrill for her every time she walked in, pretending she was on some invisible runway, seeing heads turn and watch her scan the room. it didn't take any more than a few seconds to spot dustin's dark eyes watching from the VIP lounge, and she never broke her stride while she strutted across the club. confidence rolled off of her in waves, dripping from her skin like diamonds from a bright blue tiffany box. a slow smile crept over her face as she made her advances towards her boyfriend, who was sitting casually in a booth along the wall, arms draped on either side of him, over the top of the padded seat. legs spread casually. everything else in the loud and crowded club disappeared until it was just the two of them. she was in his lap now, looking into his eyes as the dark atmosphere around them was pierced by blinding neon strobe lights, the club's very pulse, glistening over oh-so-smooth skin and the two beautiful faces of this girl and her so-called lover. dustin was drunk, esme could tell, but when he kissed her she still felt a bit of a flutter in her stomach. esmeralda was the one to pull away, taking the redbull and vodka from his hand and sipping smugly. “hey, baby.”[/color] dustin was murmuring in her ear and running his hands over her waist. hello heaven. “you look so sexy tonight in this little dress. so tight and short...mmm, you're perfectly fuckable."[/color] she liked the attention and smiled at the way he purred into her ear. THEY HAD BEEN IN THE club for hours when dustin had slurred something about the men's room. esme watched him go before resting her hands up on the table in front of her. the private booths in the VIP section were actually very appreciated. table all to herself. as she was thinking this over, she noticed that dustin had left his phone sitting next to his drink, and it was buzzing with a text message. esme picked it up; dustin wouldn't mind. it wasn't a difficult phone to navigate, and soon esme had the message open and was reading it. it was from some name she didn't recognize. a girl name, but whatever. it was about 4.8 seconds after she had first started reading when her hands went limp. her muscles, her words, her heart failed her. just in case you weren't already aware, this is esmeralda morrison-novak we're talking about. not some random little girl or common young woman. no. this was esmeralda, the one who didn't take crap from anyone, the one who put real dedication into what she did, the one who always came out on top. and now this? her eyes weren't focused on any one thing in particular, but her brain kept replaying the messages she had just read, over and over, imprinted on the back of her eyelids. the message she had opened had said only the word 'good', so she had opened up the chat history to read the previous two texts. the first was from this girl contact that esme didn't know. it read: “ hey baby, whn r we gna b 2gthr?? hry up n dump tht tramp!!”[/color] at first she had smirked because, ha. she had dustin and some pathetic little girl was actually trying to get with him. he'd tell her off, for sure. but then she read the second message in the history, which was from dustin. “im sry baby. i no we b-long 2gthr. im gna dump her rly soon. i luv u so mch more”[/color] and you know what? that wasn't even the worst of it. when she had reached out to pick up the phone she had dropped from shock, she saw the pictures. you know that thing teenagers are doing these days? sexting? esmeralda never thought she'd actually see it firsthand, but now she had. they had each sent pictures, and she had to snap the phone shut to keep from dry heaving. it was in this wrecked state that dustin found her in, but he was too drunk to even notice anything astray. the man slid in next to her and draped his heavy limbs around her frail frame, breathing moist vodka into her neck. ugh, she couldn't stand his touch now that she knew. it was as if she could feel her skin crawling. it was fairly easy to squirm out of his grasp and onto the floor, where she stood towering over dustin. he gave her a lazy grin and she flared her nostrils in anger. she didn't even notice until after she saw him clutching his cheek that she had reached out and slapped him hard across the face. good. he deserved it, the lying, cheating bastard. “it's over dustin. i know about your little whore, and you know what? i hope, for your sake, that she likes small dicks.”[/color] she stormed out, not caring what he had to say or how he would react, just caring about getting to the security of her own apartment. THE CONTRAST WAS RIGHT OUT of a literary dictionary. it was funny, really, how incredibly opposite her two drives were. on the way to bare, she had been gleeful, confident, beautiful. on the way home she was hurt, sad, angry, and crying. when was the last time she had cried, anyway? sheesh. she felt absolutely ridiculous. dustin was just a douchebag, anyway, and she should have seen that from the start. when she reached her building, she slammed her car door and fitfully ran to the elevator, feet protesting loudly in her pumps from the activity. it didn't matter. maybe the pain in her calves would help keep her from getting too carried away in this breakup drama, right? oh, who was she kidding? she pressed the button for her floor and watched the doors close. she would have to ask sonny to buy her some low-fat frozen yogurt and rent some eighties movies. hopefully he would watch at least 'sixteen candles' with her, and gorge on frozen yogurt and maybe even some sherbet? hopefully. she was loosing steam and gaining tears as she walked slowly down the hall to her door, turning the key in the lock slowly and opening the door. she tried to be quiet as she closed it, because by now it had to be at least 12.30, and she really didn't want to wake sonny. then she heard the music playing in the other room...great. he was already awake. ugh. why did she even care, anyway? he was her brother (sort of) and her best friend. he had seen worse, and she briefly wondered when she had started caring about what she looked like in front of him. well, whatever the answer was, she just knew that she didn't want him to see her like this. mascara running down her face, ugly tears chasing fat black streaks over high cheekbones; clothes smelling like too much liquor, knees buckling from exhaustion. she was a nightmare. and an ugly one at that. maybe he cheated because she was gaining weight? over the last four weeks, she had gained two pounds, you know. of course, she had dropped one by this morning, but still. that's still a whole pound. maybe that's why dustin didn't want her anymore. but she couldn't dwell on that now. she had to try and come up with either an excuse as to why she looked like shit, or a way to avoid sonny for the rest of the night. ordinary day, huh? yeah, ordinary day my ass. tag ! sonny ! word count ! 2382 ! outfit ! here! credit ! justlikefalling @ caution 2.0 ! lyrics ! just my luck , MCFLY ! notes ! sorry if this kinda seems like a rant! ah i started and just couldn't stop writing.
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Post by Santino Morrison-Novak on Apr 9, 2010 23:59:48 GMT -6
SANTINO A. MORRISON-NOVAKSONNY AND ESME'S APARTMENT, LATE NIGHT, NOVEMBER 2007 [/font] --------------------------------------------------------[/center] -----at first sight, you might think that santino was some kind of homosexual freak that only liked to stay indoors, listen to musicals and probably masturbate to gay porn. trust me, there are some people that thought that straight away. others just thought that he was some kind of escaped mental patient who should be dragged back to the nearest hospital by his balls and never be allowed to see the light of day. truth was, you never really know what to expect from the guy because he could be all of those things and non of those things at the same time. have you ever stared at your reflection on a broken mirror? you see the shattered pieces of yourself staring back at you, unrecognizable. sonny often times found himself lost in that thought. the idea of being completely cracked...fragmented. he was like a broken mirror. this usual thoughts often times led to him popping a bunch of pain killers in his system and drink out of whatever bottle of alcohol he had at his disposal. it was his way to cope with the crap that life seemed to so kindly toss his way. often times, he had no idea what he was trying to forget, or what he was trying to cope with. there was a feeling deep down that screamed at him that something was not right. that there were things that he should know about but for one reason or another, those things were not getting in his brain. maybe sonny didnt want to face them and it was better to pretend that things were all ok. like the way he pretended not to care about esme the way he did. that he saw her only as a sister, even when his inner voice was telling him differently. he could so easily shut down his true emotions and hide them all in a small box in his head. that was all for the greater good, right? what was the point of walking around with them on his sleeve? no, they were better off hidden, kept away under lock and key. every bad thing...every horrible event in his life was perfectly buried in a box under layers and layers of happy thoughts and witty remarks. some people liked to believe that the world was made out of chocolate and candy canes, why should he be any different? it could be a lot worse, he could remember it all. selective amnesia can often times come as a blessing
-----esme was living with him, as she had been for a while. he often times regretted the decision to ask her to share an apartment with him for obvious reasons. truth was that he wanted to have her close. to see her every day. to be able to share the day with her and sit down every night to watch a lame movie and eat popcorn under a warm blanket. still, every time this happened he had to mentally kick himself in order to remember that she was his sister. the fact that they were not related by blood shouldt be an issue. they met when they were kids and they grew up with the idea that they were siblings. nothing could ever happen that would change that because it was wrong in so many ways. was it illegal? he wasnt sure about that one. but it was wrong, that...he was sure of. how did it begin? he really could not pin point the moment when his feelings shifted from protective older brother, to...whatever the hell this was. he does remember being seventeen years old and walking in on her and some guy making out in the car and getting extremely pissed off. his head got hot and he actually killed the guy in his head a thousand ways before opening the car door and dragging esme out of there, too much of her dismay. lets just say that she was not thankful for his intervention. she wouldt talk to him for months after that, but she eventually got over it and they were close again. but every time she would start dating again or bring guys home, sonny would completely change his attitude and become extremely angry. what he did was hide in his room to avoid repeating the same scenario again, because he knew that esme would never forgive him if he ended up beating another one of her boyfriends again. now that he was older and was in more control over his feelings (or so he liked to think) he had managed to perfect the fake smile. what other choice did he have? esme didnt belong to him and he had no right to keep her all to himself, even if that was the thing he wanted the most. if it were up to him, he would keep her in a case made of glass and put her somewhere where no one else would find her. ok, by now you might think that he was some kind of creepy bastard, but he didnt mean her no harm. on the contrary. he just wanted to keep her safe
-----tonight, he had decided to forget about it all. specially distract himself from the fact that some guy had his hands all over his sister right bout now, or worse, fucking somewhere. the thought of it made his skin crawl. enter jack. he was already half way through the bottle, and he was singing to the evita soundtrack, dont cry for me argentina to be exact. would he be doing this while sober? probably not. he had kicked off his shoes a while ago, and he was now on his bed enjoying the sounds of madona singing (because he has bought the madona version of the musical from the movie), when he heard a noise coming from outside. paranoia kicked in, and the first thing that came to mind was that someone had been foolish enough to break in. so he stepped off the bed and turned the music down, not completely though cause he didnt want whoever was out there to think that he had realized that he was there. sonny never thought that the person could be esme. mostly because he figured she was happy with the guy she was dating adn she never came home this early after a date. the idea that something had gone wrong with her and whatshisface never crossed his mind, and the fact that he was drunk was not helping his situation. he slowly found his way to the closet, turning on the light and finding his baseball bat..cliche much? fuck you, what else was he supposed to grab? a gun? trust me, if he had a gun, someone would have been shot already at some point or another, so he opted for not having one. besides, he had issues with firearms and he was the type of person who believed that they did not belong in a person's home. yeah, this was the guy felt it more humane to bash someone's head off with a baseball bat, than to shoot someone in cold blood. after wrapping his spidery hands around the wooden surface of the weapon, he dragged his feet toward the door, peeking his head out in hopes of getting a view of the suspect. for a brief moment he saw himself in one of those criminal shows and he actually started playing the opening credits of csi in his head as he stepped out from his room and into the hallway that led to the living room. one he was there, his pace steady and the bat raised over his head, he noticed that he person who was in the living room was not a thief, but his sister esme. part of hims was happy to see her home. but part of him was severely disappointed. he already had his self defense speech all worked out in his head. "esme? what are you doing back so early?"
-----it was then that he noticed that esme was not entire happy. her eyes were swollen and covered in tears. a few drops of the salty yet sweet substance were running down her ebony cheek. even looking this tragic and miserable, she was beautiful. so sonny did what a good big brother should do. first, he put the bat down, and then he headed up to her and wrapped his arms around her. she knew that sonny was a perfectly good shoulder to cry on. he held her tight, taking in some of her smell in the process. after a few seconds he pulled away, lifting her head up to face him and wiping a tear from her eye. this is when he had to take a few steps back as he could feel his heart skip a few beats and his stomach start turning. you know that feeling? like when you eat something rotten? "hey, why dont you sit down, im gonna get my bottle from the room and you can tell me all about it, alright?". he didnt let her answer. sonny just ran up to his room, almost tripping on the carpet and hitting his head on the nearby wall, turned the music off and was back outside sitting next to her and serving them both a glass of scotch before she even noticed he was gone. "what happened? did that bastard hurt you? because if he did esme, ill kill him. i mean, i have my bat and everything and ive been wanting to use it"
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status• finished
words • 1766
tagged • esme
clothes this minus the shades
notes • oh the drama.
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Post by esmeraldaavellano on Apr 18, 2010 1:31:38 GMT -6
well i'm starting to fall in love
• A N D I T ' S G E T T I N G T O O M U C H •
• it's not often that i slip up • and it's just my luck ![/font][/center] IT WAS REALLY ONLY A matter of time before sonny showed up. no use even trying to escape her situation now. esmeralda ran a hand through her thick, dark hair, pushing the long strands from out of her eyes before her brother had the chance to actually arrive. god, how did she even get herself into situations like these? as she leaned herself against the wall of the entrance hall, her eyes closed and she internally begged herself to regain her calm. was all this really necessary for some douche who had been using her? for a liar? uh-oh, she heard footsteps, this wasn’t good. excuse, excuse, excu- “esme? what are you doing back so early?”
not long after came the arms - they were wrapping around her and drawing her into a familiar body, a familiar scent, a familiar voice. under layers of strong liquor and fitful angst was the distinct smell of her brother. it was a wonderful smell, so unique and refinied and clean and loving and sonny. oh, what would she ever do if he left her? if he was ever in serious danger, or got fed up with her reckless behavior? ugh, no, she wasn’t even going to think about what would happen in such an apocalyptic event. for now, she contented herself with biting her lip as some sort of damage control and clinging with weak fingers to the front of sonny’s jacket. “hey, why don’t you sit down, i’m gonna get my bottle from the room and you can tell me all about it, alright?”[/color] esme held on to him – her brother, her lifeline, the one person in the world she knew she loved – for just one more second before she nodded and let him go. her eyes followed his hurried movements to the stairs, her ears picked up his clunking around and she had to smile at his haste. BEFORE SONNY HAD RETURNED, ESME had made her way to the living room, where she kicked off her heels and curled herself around a pillow on the couch. the tears were slowing and her breath was coming a bit easier now that she was home and couldn’t be left to drown in her own thoughts without any sort of interference. somewhere upstairs, esme noted, music had been switched off. she briefly wondered what sonny had been listening to before she had come home and wrecked his alone time. god, she was an awful sister. she really was. coming home like this, letting sonny give her all this attention, leaving him all day for work and coming home just to cry into his shoulder. by the end of the night, he’d probably grimace at the mascara embedded into the sleeve of his t-shirt. she disgusted even herself. dark eyes darted to the source of new noise at the foot of the steps – sonny was carrying glasses and –oh, lord bless him- a half-full bottle of scotch. somewhere in her brain, she registered that said bottle was definitely full when she had left this morning. she would have to ask him about that later, because at the moment she was kind of busy wrapping her thin fingers around the glass he had handed her, and eyeing him tearfully as he clutched his own. “what happened? did that bastard hurt you? because if he did, esme, i’ll kill him.”[/color] esme smiled around the alcohol she was tipping slowly into her mouth. “i mean, i have my bat and everything and i’ve been wanting to use it.”[/color] the girl gave a small laugh, “no, no,”[/color] she grimaced at the sound of her own voice, scratchy with tears, before clearing her throat quickly. “well, i mean, yeah. he really fucked up, but you don’t need to kill him.[/color] pausing, she had another sip, “save your energy, he’s not even worth it.”[/color] her eyes were focused downward and she allowed a minute of her own silence to pass. “he was, uh-..dustin…he was cheating on me. he got up to use the bathroom and i… he got a text message. i opened it and it was from some girl, talking about how he needs to hurry up and be together or whatever.”[/color] esmeralda snorted, “little tramp wouldn’t know grammar if it smacked her in the fucking face, either. what a waste of air they both are.”[/color] she couldn’t meet his eyes. not like this. not when she was doing what she always frowned at people for doing: talking smack about their ex when everyone knows they just wish whatever crap happened, didn’t. but this was different! it was all so unexpected. maybe it wasn’t even dustin’s fault, either. maybe it was her. she had gained weight, anyway. over 110, ugh, it was definitely her fault. “SONNY, DO YOU THINK I’M pretty? i mean…not fat? or anything. like, if you were dating me, would you want someone younger and prettier and,”[/color] she spat the next word out bitterly, “thinner? you can be honest. i need to hear the truth, not anything syrupy and fake nice.”[/color] you know that expression? the one about skating on thin ice? meet esmeralda, the girl who fits the cliché like a glove. need she really be asking sonny to put himself in the shoes of her boyfriend? to pretend that he was dating her? she must not be thinking clearly, but her stomach was. here’s another cliché for you: butterflies. butterflies are supposed to be pretty and dainty and all that shit, but when they’re eating up and divebombing your insides, you will want nothing more than to puke your guts out. oh, they were divebombing alright. esmeralda bit her lip and pushed the feeling away. what the fuck were they even doing there, anyway? she was absolutely not supposed to feel any sort of anything at all besides remorse right now, yet an anxiety and excitement was building up in her core faster than her thoughts could possibly hope to keep up. she could practically feel her whole body tense for his response, her insides hanging on the words to come any moment now. falling for sonny? please. crap like that doesn’t happen. he’s her brother, practically, come on. people don’t fall in love with their not-quite-siblings. so why was she feeling so worked up about this? why couldn’t she meet his gaze? and since the hell when did she care about crying in front of him? tag ! sonny ! word count ! 1069 ! outfit ! here! credit ! justlikefalling @ caution 2.0 ! lyrics ! just my luck , MCFLY ! notes ! that one color code at the top just kinda kicked the bucket (for reasons unknown).
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Post by Santino Morrison-Novak on Apr 23, 2010 17:21:15 GMT -6
SANTINO A. MORRISON-NOVAKSONNY AND ESME'S APARTMENT, LATE NIGHT, NOVEMBER 2007 [/font] --------------------------------------------------------[/center] -----this was one of the reasons why he didnt do relationships. they were not worth all this bullshit. once you start dating a girl, they expect you to start behaving differently. to stop looking at other girls, and be all gentlemen like. you know the drill? open the door for her, pull their chair, get them flowers, act like you give a damn about her feelings and remember trivial shit like birthdays and anniversaries. it was too much of a hassle. i was better having fuck friends or just the usual fling or two. there was no commitment to speak of, and no one was expected to change their lifestyle or attitude. they could just go on with their same patterns as before, and fuck whoever they want without having to explain themselves. i mean, why would anyone submit themselves to such tediousness. being with one person? just one for x period of time. vow loyalty and be all faithful. yeah right. was there really such a thing? sonny was not a person who had faith in human beings. e was not someone who saw the best in people, but focused on their worst qualities. maybe because he saw himself reflected in them. maybe because he refused to believe that there was good in the world. it made things easier, to live with the mentality that the world was shit and beyond saving and that he was providing a public service by cleaning it up. hell, he should be getting a fucking medal. but nooooo, nobody saw it that way. i mean, if they knew that is. he would be crucified or burned at the stake. perhaps both? people were so blinded by their own self righteousness sometimes that they failed to recognize the form of their true salvation. not that he saw himself as being an angel sent to perform gods work. he was not a religious man. but he saw himself as someone far up the evolutionary chain. as far a sonny was concerned, he was a god amongst insects and he had the right to crush them with his feet if he felt like it.
-----but back to the relationship problem. sonny was a little bit disappointed when he discovered the reason for esme's misery. he wanted it to be something else.anything else would have been perfectly acceptable. but this? to cry over some asshole? to allow someone to have that much power over you? to permit them to make you feel so worthless? that didn't sit well with him. if this had been someone else, he would have laughed or probably smack her shitless so she would get a god dam clue. but this was esme. by now you must have realized that this was really the only other person beside himself that sonny actually cared about. and i mean, like really care about. sure, he was there for certain people and all that crap, but by the end of the day, esme was the only one that sonny was capable of dying for. it was highly dramatic and possibly unlikely, yeah, but it was the truth. her death would be the only death that would deeply affect him. like he would actually shed a tear. sure, he would feel bad if london died, or eric, or eve wrynn or the rest of the morrison clan. but she would be the only one capable of leaving a hole. so she should feel lucky for being that bloody special.but you don’t need to kill him. pausing, she had another sip, “save your energy, he’s not even worth it.” since when was that an issue? sonny raised his brow when she said that, cause honestly that made absolutely no sense. worth what exactly? sure it might be time consuming, but it would also be extremely entertaining. worth getting caught? what a joke. that would suggest that the members of the valkyrie police were actually good at their job. that they did something other than stare at their computer screens and eat massive amounts of donuts. pathetic.
-----so, he was cheating on her. sonny wasnot at all surprised. the guy had a penis after all and he liked to stick it in whatever fuckhole came along. it was only natural. but this is what he meant by change. someone who is a manwhore is always going to be a manwhore. they wont just stop just because some girl has the delusion that they will. only because he is "dating" someone, that does not mean that they will automatically be reborn into someone decent. a leopard never changes skin. still, he gave a deep sigh as she told him the story of what had happened. deep down he felt an enormous satisfaction because, well.... he never really liked dustin. and that also meant that esme was now on her own. she didnt really belong with anyone, she just didnt know it yet. but she would, eventually. it was all a matter of time before she came to terms with that. do you have any idea of how many guys sonny had to scare away? he managed to make them either leave on their own, or make them disappear by taking matters into his own hands. they were not good to her. and as her big brother, he had the right to look after her and remove all type of danger for her life. at least, thats how he saw things. she might not think of it that way if she ever found out. how he got her high school sweetheart to cheat on her by spiking his drink. how he buried that one guy she was dating during her junior year at college. what was his name again? it didnt matter. he was now maggot food. everything was done because he wanted to protect her. sure, she felt like crap when she walked in on them fucking some girl or when she thought they had left her without saying goodbye. but it was all for her own good. now, dustin, he had no hand on that. dustin managed to fuck himself over all by himself. what a relief.
-----they were noth sitting on the couch. sonny was still pretty buzzed and she...well, she was a walking train wreck. “sonny do you think im pretty? i mean…not fat? or anything. like, if you were dating me, would you want someone younger and prettier and, thinner? you can be honest. i need to hear the truth, not anything syrupy and fake nice.” was she being serious? because that was the dumbest question he had ever heard in his 24 years of living on planet earth. she hasnt been paying any attention. sonny felt bitter for a brief moment. he just could not believe that she would actually ask him that. he wondered what she saw when she stared at her reflection in the mirror. if she had the same problem he had. did she see herself cracked? unrecognizable? obviously she saw herself as being fat. sonny was not stupid. he knew that she didnt eat, and that she was obsessed with exercise.
-----esme had this ridiculous idea that she was disgusting, and that she should be thinner. there was nothing attractive about a fucking skeleton. and trust me, sonny had seen his fair share. meat was sexy. not that he loved fat asses, cause honestly he found them revolting. but he liked to touch a woman and feel flesh, not just bone. esme had the perfect body as far as he was concerned, as a matter of fact, she could still gain a few pounds and look extremely fuckable. he rolled his eyes, he couldnt help it "are you hearing yourself? i shouldnt dignify that with an answer. it was just to moronic. sonny took a deep breath, placing his hand on her chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. her eyes were swollen from all the crying, but they were still sparkling. he could still drown himself in them. he wiped the tears from her eyes with his fingers as he continued "if i were asked to describe my vision of the perfect woman, i would just point in your direction. sonny didnt believe in perfection, but esme was pretty damn close. "to be honest with you, i think that you are just too good and too beautiful, to be wasting your tears on some fucking douche like dustin whatshisface. As he was brushing his fingers on her cheek, he found himself getting closer to her, until suddenly his nose was brushing against hers. he could feel her breath caress his lips, as if they were calling on to him. maybe it was the booze, yeah, one could easily blame it on the booze, but he couldn't resist the desire to kiss her. and that is exactly what he did. he pressed his lips on hers, and he kissed her. consequences be damned!
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status• finished
words • 1682
tagged • esme
clothes this minus the shades
notes • oh the drama.
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