The first thing we had decided to do with Alison with a folder in her hand, not yet opening whatever had been inside, my first thought maybe it was some odd haunted thing where a green blob would fall on us from the ceiling and I really thought it to be some obscure game as she gave me the jelly bracelet and put on one herself. We both made coffee in the kitchen which was quite spacious, no evidence of ghosts and both us still silent besides the fact that we just decided to get some coffee and we didn’t even sit on the small kitchen table, avoiding everything else.
It’s funny how different and diluted silence may be sometimes as we just drink the coffee and I look at the soft violet bracelet around my wrist. It seems to be attached quite strongly now and I just shrug, twisting it around and I don’t bother much with it as Alison starts opening the envelope, putting her mug aside. She clears her throat, giving one last sip, her eyes trailing ahead as she goes back to glance at the bracelet and narrows her eyes lightly at it, so I try to peek into the papers and Alison makes a shooing motion and I just bite my bottom lip, wondering if she will read the instructions aloud.
“Apparently...” She holds a pause and then points to the jelly odd bracelet. “If we are not in the same room, we get an electrical shock, just a small one. But we still get it.”
I blink and I just start sipping my coffee and we both just glance at each other, frankly we still follow each other to the same room, so that doesn’t seem like a problem and I just raise my eyebrows suggestively which seems like the cue for Alison to get back to the paper as she starts running through it and I just let myself observe her, how her roots just got re-dyed and how it was to see her some other shade than another colour how she had appeared and I just kissed her forehead, something small yet when we had both been far too tense, we seem to be flirting not knowing which side of the blade is the one which cuts and living the lie that we had never dated. Alison lowers the papers and starts exiting the room and I start feeling a small shock on my wrists, so I just have to catch up as she pushes the door open to something which I’m guessing is the bedroom, past a few halls with armors and everything seems to be polished, the paintings redone with standard creepy faces with high collars and the same eyes done by the same artist rather than a dominant gene in the family.
Once she opens the door, we both shiver to the sight of a heart shaped big bed with rose petals on it and odd love positions posters of all sexes and genders on the walls which frankly seem not even pornographic, but intimidating and Alison walks on to the bathroom, which also seems to have everything heart shaped and above the bathtub there is a clock with
13 days until legal marriage.
“What the fuck. I paid for a day.”
“...Apparently not.” I stop. “Maybe you pay later.”
Alison just glares at me. Longing strips you bare, that you can’t help but fidget, your nails digging into your emotion and anxiety rattling in your blood. It’s the odd relief of getting thrown together again, before it had been out of own misery and attraction while now it’s out of despair and I keep looking at her, her anger slowly washing out and she makes a step towards me, closer, the distance irrelevant with all the closure we’ve gone through, the pushing away, all of it a waltz for both us, both of us spinning or maybe it had been me who was spinning her, her kisses missing my own.
It’s those moment which you yourself break and when you look back, you sulk, you regret, it dawns on you that it’s gone
I think we’re all very fragile and I know that Alison’s hands are wrapped around me, as I watch her and when she’s bored she strangles too hard, breaking me and in that moment with her eyes closed, I see her not even giving me a final kiss, she just strangles me, the oxygen leaving me, no gasping, just accepting fate
and my own fall.
The idea of being locked doesn’t cause discomfort as Alison just approaches me, her eyes a palette of long dried love which I keep managing to pour new colours in, layer after layer
I kiss her.
I yank her in, I pull her apart, just because so does she
always.
Alison pulls my hair, her other arm pulling me closer, clashing our bodies harshly against each other, the layers no longer being barricades from anxiety, but rather destroying ourselves. The obscurity of the moment just proves how spontaneous we always were, the desire fusing everything until she just picked up the phone and told me she’s coming and I had seen her at the airport, pulling her closer, lips too swollen to laugh.
She destroys me.
I destroy myself.
She’s the reflection I want and have been waiting for, with no shards to slide against my palms.
I don’t know if her kiss shattering reality or yanking me into it is a good thing, but it’s surely something which brings fear.
She had kissed me, just like we do when we fear something, before the wedding. Grabbing me, still giving us the scent of being young and she had kept kissing me until a knock had followed on the door and we broke down and she had followed with her speech.
Alison, calling her seemed with no point in favor, as she had spat out what she had felt, knees tumbling due to a different kind of fear, of the dog on the fence when nothing would follow afterwards and the fear clung onto the teeth like the morning does, reminding how expired last night had been. A weird tumble follows.
It always does, with Alison going tense before collapsing if I kiss her deeper, yanking her closer.
Maybe it’s the fear which drives us, the fear at the pearly gates of disappointment of heaven, when heaven is a state of bliss, but we tumble at the gates, still holding hands with broken glances.
It’s odd how so many things knacker us and shatter us, I pull her bottom lip with my teeth, earning a soft moan surrounded in embarrassment. Alison pulls back, her bitterness swelling up again as she just looks at me, confused, dazzled, yet pleased. She walks over to the bathtub and starts filling it in, we just wait in some silence and I don’t approach her even if she glances at me a few times, as she strips I just watch her, far too aroused at a pleasant familiar sight and I watch her stick her head underwater, her eyes closing as they reach the line, when her body is already immersed. When she dives out I’m in the other corner, still feeling cold. We watch each other with a small smile of despite. Cigarettes forgotten on the floor, nicotine becoming the drug we don’t need.
I fear of our closure again, because once the thread is broken and seems to sew us together, I end up cutting it with scissors or she does, as I watch her slowly submerge eyes closed, hair slowly becoming rays again and soon enough a halo which gets pulled under and she stays there for a while, before pushing herself up to look at me with full brown eyes, flirting with my sexuality and desire, chocking the ice out of my throat, now no longer a saint.
The need of sex gone with a lustful kiss.
We always have the ice broken, but it’s as if we are better with the tension of not knowing what’s underneath the black water, that all of a sudden, all mystery is gone, when you realize that there are no monsters in the dark, that everything is in front of you on the plate, that she knows how I work, that she knows that I know how she works. I know everything about her, if I don’t, she’ll just light a cigarette, the hangover tipping her over and she’ll talk slowly, her voice trailing off, talking to me off Jack, when we had blown each other off. I wasn’t interested in joining his web of relations, when no one is dating, everyone seems to be singing and fucking him, listening to each of his words, his polyamory stretching into his career as well.
I don’t think I’d stand more than a person, how would I manage two relationships when I can’t even handle myself with a mirror, I’d shatter it, just to get rid of the responsibility.
Her dark eyes pierce me, the ice broken, the tension gone, our desire not stretching to sex yet and we’re stuck in oblivion, our kiss being something cathartic as usual, like when you leave the waters of blood, only it holds a mystery once you’re out as well,
but the thing is,
years later,
fucking later,
there is no catharsis, that’s when it becomes hard to produce and love someone who inside out you don’t love.
I think love is a funny thing, because just like the human being it has too many things which are thrown into proportion to determine if the love even exists at all and some needles when taken out of the yarn, they just dissolve and I keep watching her, sometimes my own sexuality getting into the way, when she dresses up a bit too stereotypical and I can see that sometimes we both tone it down, sometimes she feels odd when she’s without makeup and my eyeliner is too much drawn on, far too thin, when she’d take an hour to do one line, I’d just close my eyes and trace it once.
Sometimes we both struggle with each other’s presence and each other’s love.
Sometimes we try to settle too much, the dailyness of ourselves disturbing our turbulence far too much.
“Why did you book this?” I ask, not pushing far too forward, just curiosity tickling my throat and she just watches me silently and I notice how much skinnier she got, how she seemed to be threading herself with her own void and existence and Alison just looks at me darkly.
“Because stupid ways seem to attract you.” I smirk at her reply as she just lowers her head and blows air, making bubbles which cause her to slightly shatter her lips into a smile of fragments. I seem to be attracted sometimes to her bluntness, her coldness, how when I had just strolled back in into the hotel after missing for three days, all her nails bitten, all hair a mess, all make up from all previous day smudged all over and a cigarette dangling from her mouth, not even enough patience to inhale when her whole body had been shaking and she didn’t hug me once she saw me, she just clenched her fists and started yelling lasting about a minute, smiling spreading until breaking and she just started crying, shaking as I had watched her before bringing her close, feeling how the days had seemed to separate us and the more time would pass the more our cards would slowly start returning to its initial positions, back when there was no attraction.
I’ve lost counts of how many times I’ve fallen in love with her and we’ve managed to gain the idleness of a couple that our naked bodies no longer excite us, but rather become as plain as wallpaper giving love a wrong meaning, that it’s idle
Because we’ve never done the right thing or rather we’ve never done why she considered wrong. We both bathe and dress up in clothes which we have to choose from the wardrobe, which is pretty much suited for any size and we just glance at each other just like we normally would and our silence is just stringed from this weird situation and I don’t even know what to say and Alison just keeps her usual silence, letting her mind speak only to herself as usual. It gets worse to think that we always kill the tension, making sure everything is out of the way that nothing steps in our way, just like a fucking wank to ease the tension, I feel like that’s all we do and I feel like these days we’ll be locked in won’t be any difference, that we’ll be laughing but the said aloud plan will never be achieved by the household.
-
I love them to bits and I'm sorry that it took a while to get this chapter done and I'm sorry that it's not really a happy story, it ends up being some twisted sort of thing xD but when I was planning it was funny and I honestly hope it is xD I just wanted some goofy setting and this was the idea which appealed to me, sticking them in this obscure thing.
I know I've spoken of this, but it's interesting to see the whole on and off thing actually live and it's surely different than from the photos, a lot of it is purely done for the show which is heavily interesting and a lot is a bunch of leftover feelings specifically from Alison, so it's interesting. Dunno, I really love them as band and I always have ever since I fucking heard the drums of Cheap and Cheerful on telly.
I was honestly terrified that I had made them make out and it just seems fitting and I guess I get scared when something like that happens before intended and then I have to chew on it, so yeah. I wrote this in a few sittings, I've been writing a lot recently so keep checking every day as I'll be posting everything I've written and I keep writing like mad recently so a bunch of stuff is getting updated :D
I pretty much wrote everything here and I just added the last paragraph to make sure the chapter had a fitting ending and yes, there's more humor and angst ahead xD
I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please say so and yeah:3
thank you!
<3
Jamie
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