“What’s the point in spinning the bottle if there’s just two of us?” I say my head underneath the couch, my head spinning and buzzing, my eyes long closed and Alison’s hand had been on my leg not so long ago. I don’t dare to lift my head up and I’m sure I had torn my suit, wondering why will I even enjoy the hangover tomorrow.
“Because it might not land on you?” She smirks and I know now she’s sitting besides me and I just cross my legs, closing my eyes, hoping that I can still feel my body properly and that I don’t have a boner. And I hear the floor tell me that she’s spinning the bottle and I bite my lips, actually trying to stick myself deeper under the couch and the bottle stops spinning.
“Don’t cheat.” And I stick my head out just to see that the bottle is pointing more towards her rather than me and she’s sitting right besides me and I look at her newly dyed roots. I look at the apartment and I wonder why I’m I even selling it, why had I put it on the market, making a few phone calls wearing Kate’s white glasses as if they could see my red eyes and I had laughed the entire morning, smoking far too much as Lila and Kate had left somewhere and I had dragged Alison from across the street and then we had gone out to this apartment and I had told her I was planning to sell it.
“See? It didn’t even land on me. You can wank now.” And I actually want to go back and stick my head under the couch, but she grabs me by the cheeks.
I don’t think we did anything new and the wine hasn’t properly gone to me yet or to her, so the fact that she’s doing this sober scares me and excites me. I shift to make sure I’m looking straight at her, I look at her, how thin she’s gotten and I start laughing, too much within my system as she silences me with a hungry kiss and I gasp into her mouth, pulling her closer, pulling her over me, my hands entangled in her hair.
I hold her and I know she feels, where her ribs are, how her skin feels and I’ve held her so many times but now it’s with something new forgotten and I’m yanked into it through the veil of alcohol and drugs, but she’s far too cruel to let me go and so am I, never letting her go, always dissing whoever she’s dating and having my own doubts let me devour me.
She had told me how friends had worked and I just shrugged then many years ago, taking the piss that we could do the same, she was scared of letting someone close let her hurt her and maybe some it was the bitterness which still carries within me, how she had refused and I had agreed, letting it destroy her,
that friends thrust thorns deeper than the rest when love is there and there are no two positions.
And her lust happens because she had snapped and so had I, pulling her lightly by the hair as she digs her nails into my t-shirt and I feel her against my lips, I feel her
the longing is intense and if I could I’d split both of us open as we make out and I had even forgotten how she tasted, cigarettes now much more faint and the alcohol much more expensive with her fragrance and our whole essence seems to be destroyed, but the boredom remains, the room is still the same, dull and boring only with her smirl and twirl to illuminate my day and lips.
But the fear doesn’t leave me as Kate pierces me. Alison was always there, Kate wasn’t discarding me as Alison would lick her wounds as I would prescribe her eyedrops instead of bandages. But the thing was, what was there for her to see?
My love?
She knew it and the fact that I was the same triggered us both.
It always starts with us drunk, the first few dates of any tour starts off with us looking at each other as we head back to the hotel and sometimes we are already far too drunk, we keep repeating the mistake with the fact that fear just swallows us and it starts from shots and it’s always Alison’s hopeful eyes and I’ve seen myself in the mirror, how I look when I splash water on my face, I don’t look better, I want her just as much, but my own twisted mind is the enemy. Maybe we are both each other’s enemy, some bizarre love which twists us and a thread which never break even if other people try and they try to forget about the thread which seems to be around my neck lately.
So it always starts with the shots and then either of us will slip and suggest to go upstairs. We take off the leather jackets, pour some more drinks, Alison usually on the bed, biting her lip and I take a swing from whatever we had chosen to drink. I crawl besides her, we never say anything and I know where to touch, she knows where to kiss and we just entangle ourselves and in the morning we just pass the toothpaste to each other, quickly glancing at each other with yesterday’s memories in our head and the foil kicked under the bed.
We haven’t toured, the few dates were done through gritted teeth and Alison dancing next to me, pulling my bottom lip with her fingers and I would close my eyes, not to do anything and she would flee.
But not now.
It’s something else, I think we’ve both held too much like when she had kept stalking me and then I had heard her live and even if we had made eye contact and once I had been too drunk, even if I wasn’t too able to walk I hadn’t been able to miss anything, yet I had closed the curtains on her, feeling bad.
And that’s when I felt even worse and I had fetched her from outside, lighting a cigarette and she had walked in, hair all a mess and a big grin, barely talking and only asking me to play.
And now Alison was fed up with all the tension we had been doing which had started from a lame idea I had, we had both been intoxicated, we always are and I had pulled her by her shirt, nearly kissing her, both tense and I had told her that what a great idea it would be
just like some people think that not having sex is better than having sex, that’s what my idea was
that not being together would be better than being together, that we would never hurl at each other, sex would become just a plain need like wanking but the thing is, you end up wanting far too much.
We both pull each other’s lips.
I forget that we’re not in a hotel once we’re both shirtless and my hands are traveling up to her breasts and she’s on top of me.
I stop and I want to take my hands off, instead she pulls me back, pressing my hands higher. I’ve felt her all over, I’ve made love to her many times, much more than I’ve ever said it and let my mind linger onto.
I pull away and that’s when Alison stands up, she takes my shirt instead of hers, holds it in her hands, rubbing the fabric between her fingers and looks down on me. We’re both still in heels, we hold our silence, the alcohol being as soft as the morning, just a sudden realization that it’s there. She keeps her silence as I keep my own. I take out a pack of cigarettes from my back pocket and stretch it out to her.
“What do I have to do?” Her voice I was expecting would be a sob, but it’s not. Instead it’s stern and something twisted and her pain echoes as something ugly to me, which I try to ignore because I had been the thorn and so had she, never doing anything about the wound, letting it dismantle her entirely in my arms and I never throw her out and we still have some tenderness as I’d bring her lips closer to mine to kiss.
“What do you mean?” I stop as she sits besides me, both of us on the floor and she has lit my cigarette, slowly forcing herself to look with her dark eyes into mine. I try to look away, but you always get your attention grabbed by the broken mirror to see how would you look broken, but this time I know how I look and there’s not enough cracks to show my real state.
“What the fuck do I have to do?” She mutters, lighting her own. She gets her blonde hair out of her eyes and it had always crossed my mind how Kate and Alison seemed to try and resemble each other as if I would forget and hold onto the other in a haunted house, thinking that one was the other and depending on who I’d grab the conclusion would be on who I’d prefer.
“Sorry?” I blink, slowly inhaling and wondering if we should’ve gotten more alcohol and walking back home seems like a dumb idea and the cab is not something I’d want with both of us sitting moody and kicking each other under the knee just to burst out laughing and then everything would be the same.
“You’re not dragging Kate here are you?” That stings and I just flinch lightly and that’s when she grins, far too broken from too many years of waltzing blindly as I would run away and give her other partners or would leave her alone. I hang my head down, biting my lip. My own jealousy had betrayed me.
“Well, you see to drag Jack a lot too, you know.” I smirk bitterly at my come back and recalling how she always laughs with him like she had once with me and it stings that my nostalgia is now stained.
“Unlike you, I broke up with Jack.” She holds for a moment. “While you hold onto Kate. Even we didn’t have as many fallouts.”
“Jack dumped you.” I snarl back, wishing there had been something else to drink, instead I stand up and she follows me, both of us still shirtless and I get some tap water, getting a glass and rinsing it first before just drinking.
“You’re saying as if Kate was never jealous and the break ups never happened.” I don’t splash her with water, instead I close my eyes and I take the whole glass in, opening my eyes to see her with her arms crossed on her chest.
“At least I didn’t go saying that great, I have Jamie anyway.” I slam the glass down and Alison winces at the noise.
“Because I fucking understand that if you would have the balls, you’d fucking see!” She raises her voice and gets close to me. I wish I’d worn higher heels and the fact that she’s wearing quite high ones isn’t helping and is giving a taunting psychological effect. I look down at her shoes, she grabs me by the chin and makes sure that I am looking at her.
“What the fuck do you-” She kisses me again and I try to hold, I pull away and Alison just pushes me away, heading back into the room. She starts picking up her clothes and leans down to get her leather jacket from under the couch. She stops for a while.
“You still didn’t tell me what do I have to do, if you want to do it that way.” She tries to keep calm and I just watch her, getting a new cigarette since the other was stubbed and forgotten in such haste that I don’t even recall.
“What the fuck do you want to do?” I ask her as she approaches me.
“Why don’t I ever get a chance and some model who barely watches anything besides Gypsy weddings does? Are you saying you’re not fit for someone else? Too tiring, Jamie?” She pulls on her dark blue t-shirt, buttoning the cardi over it and now searching for her bag. I still check her out. I simply don’t reply.
“Look.” She pauses, she’s nearly leaving. I nod at her, waiting for her to go on.
“One date and I swear I’ll piss off.” Alison points at me.
“I’m married.”
“That never stopped you or her from fucking around.” And she goes towards the door.
-
Callie is sending me death threats because I ended it here. Ok, it's not happy happy yet, but it will be, I promise :O
I PROMISE.
It's just really hard to make a happy Kills request when these two have been at each other's throats or pants for the past millennium so yeah -.-
I've been dying to get back to writing these two and I've been horribly obsessed with Jamie again and I've been writing him in other stories. And yeah, if you want a Jamie humor fic, check Saints Preserve Us (but he's not paired up with Alison, the pairing there is obvious, but I'll remain silent), actually it's a satire.
I dunno I love the whole spinning the bottle it's kind of nostalgic to back when me and Callie just met and I'd be curious what would happen if Callie got dared and etc. So I kind of had that in mind and seemed funny that they'd do it drunk.
And the title is quite clumsy which I like, since those two are idiots. It came from the fact that I was pretty much blank and I was like ok, this story is about reconciliation which seems to be a theme I write quite often even if in life I don't really believe in it, well depends on what the fuck did you do really and in this case it was just two idiots not wanting to get back together so yeah xD and they seem to be teasing everyone with it xD anyway so I wanted a synonym to reconcile and found the expression and I hadn't used the word "quarrel" in ages and I dunno, it seemed like a nice clumsy title so yeah :3
I love them so much T__T and I missed these two morons who can't seem to get together T__T and I'm slowly plotting since Jamie and Kate don't hang out too much, I'm like HAHA I'M SURE HE'S FUCKING ALISON EEEE I'm an awful, awful fangirl.
I always find how they met precious and I shall forever discuss it.
I had an idea to turn this one angsty and do another happy one, but this shall be the one. I promise.
I hope you enjoyed it and yay *opens champagne* a new Kills story :D so please feel free to request and I promise I am writing faster now :D so go request and I should have the next one up soon if you poke me :3
<3
No comments:
Post a Comment