two timing little snake! ♥
Nov. 12th, 2009 12:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elydesiaYou can read all of these on my fictionpress page. Also, stories appear there first, so I advise you to subscribe for immediate updates.
Alright, so the official summery is, "Marina finally gets let out of the apartment, and this is what happens? Rated M for nudity and swearing." But that's edging on minimum and into nothing.
Yes, it's one of the installments forFixing Loving Eliot Groussé, but it's hardly an introductory piece. I'll come up with something more "intro" later on, when I've got a firmer grasp on the couple's future.
What happens in this piece is Marina finally goes out on her own (or, without Eliot). Carmina, Nicole, and Marina go to a local bar, where they drink themselves silly. Actually, Carmina's the only one who gets drunk like a nutcase. Marina can hold her liquor, and Nicole's only buzzed.
The girls get picked up by the guys, Alvin, Harold, and Orin. That is where things go awry. It has a happy ending, though. Promise :{D~
Loving Eliot Groussé: Walking Alone by Tori Lo
She slammed down the phone and ran to the bedroom, where Eliot lay. The door opened with a swoosh and Eliot turned over to look at her. “Don't be so loud. It was a stressful day today. Don't bother me.” She flinched at his words, but dared venture further.
“Um, Eliot? Can I ask you something?” Marina said, voice trembling slightly. She was scared of how ruthless Eliot could be with his words.
He sat up and stared at her, his suit jacket strewn on the floor and necktie loosely dangling around his collar and neck. “What is it?” Marina brightened. He was sleepy, so he'd be nicer to her.
“Ah, um... Can I go out tonight with some friends?”
“Who are they?” Eliot whipped his words at her and she flinched.
“Um... the girls. Carmina, Nicole...”
“Where are you going?” He sounded on edge, but Marina knew he was just concerned about his newly wedded wife being snatched from him. At least, that was what she wanted to believe.
“Oh, just for a night on the town.”
“If it shuts you up, go ahead. You never get out anyway. Quit being such a shut in. Go away,” he snapped and laid back down, belly on the bed.
Feeling a bit hurt by his words but still happy about being able to leave for the night, Marina rushed to her closet and got dressed in her best party clothes—not that she had many to begin with. At around seven 'o clock, Carmina and Nicole came to pick her up.
“Hey! Nice to finally see the Overlord let you out. When was the last time we did something like this?” Carmina asked, wrapping an arm around Marina's shoulder. They laughed.
“A long time? I'm glad I could spend time with you guys, too. Will there be anyone else joining us tonight?” Marina asked. Carmina looked at Nicole and winked.
“There sure will be. But that's for later. Right now, we're headed for a bar for some drinks.”
“Actually, that's where we're going to be meeting the others, right, Carmina?” Nicole asked, and Marina looked at he two, knowing there was a secret plot being played behind her.
Carmina noticed Marina's awkward look and frowned. “Something against surprises? Doesn't that ruthless man plot them on you all the time, Mrs. Newlywed?”
“Oh, be quiet... That was just a misunderstanding.”
“Sure, it was. Come on, let's go, you two,” Carmina said and started pulling the two towards the nearest bus stop.
The bus ride to the bar wasn't very comfortable for Marina. It was mostly Carmina and Nicole bashing Eliot, and when they reached the bar, they still wouldn't stop. After they got buzzed, though, that was when Marina was starting to enjoy the night.
After a few hours of drinking, talking, bashing, and generally being asses, they left to wait for their rides elsewhere.
“Who exactly is picking us up?” Marina asked. She could still talk coherently because, surprisingly, she can take on a lot of liquor. Nicole could hold herself pretty well, too, but Carmina was a full-blown drunkard.
“What! Of course we're waiting for the guys! Nicole! Where's the absinthe!” she asked, and spun around three times, looking for Nicole who was on her left.
“Back in the bar, Mina. We're leaving now, though. I'm sure you can have some of Alvin's gin if you ask nicely.”
“To hell with asking nicely! I'm going to rip out his vocal chords if he doesn't hand over that alcohol!” Three cars pulled up in front of the bar and Carmina immediately headed for the middle one. “Alvin! Give me that gin!” she cried and climbed into the car.
“Hahaha!” Nicole wailed, and people were staring.
Alvin, a young man with black and blonde hair climbed out of the middle car. The first thing Marina really noticed were his eyes, which were a steel-cold blue. Around his neck he wore an iron cross shaped like holly leaves, and he wore just a plain short sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and converse sneakers. He must be cold, Marina thought. “Nicole, get in with Harold before you attract too much attention. Paris can be mean when you're acting insane.”
“Yes, Alvin!” Nicole shouted and climbed into the third car.
Carmina rolled down her window and shouted, “Get in the car, Alvin! Let's go!” There were a few people shouting remarks about Carmina, and Alvin turned shifty. He motioned with his chin to the first car.
“That's Orin's car. For you. We're going to be taking you all to my place for the night...” He stopped talking when he noticed Marina's concerned eyes. He noticed she wasn't very drunk after all, and he let out a laugh. He muttered something and then shone a bright smile somehow unlike him. “Nothing bad's going to happen,” he said and then finally climbed back into his car, much to Carmina's relief.
Hesitantly, Marina walked to the first car and climbed in. Orin was next to her and showed her a bright smile. He had shoulder length bleached-blonde hair and dressed very fashionably. “Hello, Marina. Nice to meet you. To Alvin's?” Marina nodded and Orin revved the engine. As if it were rehearsed several times, the three cars pulled out simultaneously.
The car ride was silent. Awkwardly silent, and everything smelt of the 'new car' smell with a hint of mint. It made her mildly nauseous.
Orin, noticing Marina's discomfort, asked, “Is something wrong?”
Lying, she said, “It's nothing.”
He laughed, and his hand left the steering wheel to rest on her thigh. “You sure it's nothing? I can feel the tension off of you... What might it be from, I wonder?” Marina stared down at the hand on her thigh, eyes wide, breath held. She was impressed of how Orin could operate the car and the thigh hand at the same time. Had he done something like this before? On Paris' horrible roads, too!
His hand started creeping up her leg and she gagged and shoved his hand away. The car swerved and he shouted at her, “What was that for?” He grabbed her and pulled her close, the car swerving a bit as Orin lost attention on the road. It was now when Marina smelt the alcohol from his breath, and she instinctively pulled away, shrieking. She had no idea what to do, and she didn't know what was going to happen.
The only thing that came to mind, as she was clinging to passenger door, was to get away. Her eyes darted to the car door handle and she pulled. Marina tumbled out of the car onto the hard concrete road. A burning pain etched its way onto her palms, forehead, elbows, and knees. It felt like she had just crawled a hundred feet, scraping along the road. She began to bleed, and she began to cry, shriveled up on a side country road outside of Paris.
After a few minutes of useless weeping, she sat up and looked around. Paris' lights were far away, about the size of a ladybug. It was cold out, and to get home Marina knew she'd have to get walking. So she did. After the first fifteen minutes of walking, her feet began to hurt. “Why me?” she cried out and took off her high heels. The road was cold and hard under her feet, hurting it a bit, but the cooling sensation soothed her ache.
It was sure past midnight now, and it seemed Marina was no closer to Paris than before. There'd been about five or so cars that drove by without asking how she was. How rude, she had said.
Another car was just about to drive by her and she looked in the opposite direction, not wanting to look into the eyes of the driver this time.
The car stopped. “Get in, now.” That voice was familiar, she thought, and zipped her head around to see the oh-so-familiar car of Eliot. She smiled brightly and got in the car. “So tell me,” he started, and Marina got herself ready for a scolding. “How the fuck did you get all the way out here?”
“Um... well--”
“That bitch Carmina calls me, shouting at the top of her lungs to pick you up somewhere near Champlain. I was off having a good time in Orléans, and then this comes up! Take better care of yourself. Why don't you understand how important you are! Do you get any of it?” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel and dashboard a few times whenever he couldn't control his anger. But, no matter how angry or upset Eliot was, he'd never touch Marina, and they both knew it.
Marina nodded sadly and hung her head. “Yes...”
He sighed. “Good. Now keep your mouth shut unless I ask you something. There are a lot of things to do when we get home,” he said, looking over Marina's body.
Eliot slammed the door behind him as he walked in behind Marina. “Go to the couch and get undressed. I'll start the bath,” he said and headed for the washroom without even taking off his shoes, the soles leaving scuff marks on the hardwood floor. Marina obediently sat down on the couch and began taking off her clothes.
A few minutes passed before Eliot shouted, “The water's ready! Come here!” Marina quickly threw off the rest of her clothes and scampered to the washroom. It was steamy and the floor was a bit wet. Eliot's sleeves were rolled up to just past his elbows, and he was kneeling next to the tub. She stood in the doorway, staring down at Eliot as he looked up at her with a firm gaze. “Well?” A hot blush comes over her face and Eliot rolls his eyes, then stands.
Eliot wraps an arm around Marina's shoulder and walks her to the tub. He closes the door as she climbs in. When he turns to look down at Marina, she still has the bright blush. He hides the small smile on his lips and bends down next to her. They share a long gaze before he speaks, “I've seen your body plenty of times. Don't be embarrassed or shy.” He grabbed Marina's purple loofah from the floor and squirted soap onto it.
“Ah! That's too much!” she shrieked, and received a deadpanned expression from Eliot.
“Is that so? How about you wash yourself!” he shouted and threw the loofah into the tub.
“No, Eliot! Don't go!” Marina jumped out of the tub and ran after Eliot into the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind her. Eliot turned around. When he saw her naked, wet body run into the room he instinctively grabbed her and threw her onto the bed before climbing on top of her. This kind of thing tended to happen often, but this time there was a pause. “Eliot?” He looked at her scrapes, still bleeding. The blood mixed with the water, giving off the appearance of her bleeding more than she actually was. Again, lower this time, she whispered, “Eliot?” – this time adding – “do you want to?”
He got off her and yanked her back to the bath. “I don't want to dirty our bed with those ugly blood colors. Get in and I'll wash you. … You left this trail of water? Are you stupid or what?” Marina got back into the bath and Eliot began scrubbing her with the loofah, blood getting everywhere. The washing didn't give the blood enough time to clog and stop, but the bath was quick, and soon Marina was lifted out bridal style and laid on the towel covered toilet. He pulled the plug and began rubbing Marina down with another towel, turning it bloodstained.
“Tomorrow, we're going shopping in the evening for new towels and bandages.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder again and walked her to the bedroom, where he bandaged her up and dressed her in her winter pajamas. “Stay here. I'll make us some cocoa and then we'll watch some TV before going to sleep,” he said and left. But before he became out of reach she grabbed his shirt. He turned around and gave her a cold stare, telling her to let go.
“Thank you, Eliot,” she said, stuttering. Eliot shrugged.
“No problem. I love you, louse,” he said and left.
Marina fell back onto the bed and rolled over to her side to grab and snuggle with her pillow. “Eliot is a nice person, sometimes. And he loves me...” She squeezed the pillow, but let go when her palms started hurting, substituting it with chewing the inside of her cheek. A few minutes later, Eliot came back with two cups of hot cocoa and handed one to Marina. “Thank you.”
“Yep.” He flicked on the TV they had and the two of them quietly began to watch. For a few hours, this went on. Marina could barely see the faint glow of the sun as she laid back onto her bed and snuggled into the covers, her body still sore. “Tired?” he asked, and she nodded. “Go to sleep. I'll call in sick today, then I'll make breakfast. We can nap until evening, and when we wake up we can go grocery shopping,” he continued and left the room, closing the door gently.
A warm smile came across Marina's lips as she thought of her immense love for Eliot. Even though he was barking orders at her, she clearly felt the warmth that he had showed her.
Under the covers of the bed she shares with Eliot, the love of her life, Marina turned away from the window and went into a soft sleep.
This is another story I've come up with. Originally called, "A Musical Night," and a oneshot, turned into this twoshot piece.
It's basically about a girl named Emma Alexander, and her talking pet cat, Jeans. This first part focuses on the anxiety Jeans has of loosing his talent of speech, Emma and Jeans' nightly routine, and Emma's ordinary, mundane life outside her hours with Jeans. Keep a heads up sometime next week for the second installment.
A Little Night Music by Tori Lo
The school bell rang, echoing all over school grounds. It was loud and annoying, making many children's ears ache. It was in the middle of autumn, so the sun was already on it's fast track to dusk. Students from all years started shuffling out of the tall building and off the premises, most of them talking like the chattering teenagers they were.
Emma Alexander, a freshman at Sunnydale High, wandered off the school grounds and somehow made it past the triflingly busy road to the bus stop. She had a book in her hands and over sized headphones on her head. She was quiet, and smiled as she did her own thing.
The number sixteen bus came and Emma briefly showed her monthly bus pass before taking her usual seat. In ten minutes, she arrived at the train station, and in fifteen minutes, she started walking home.
The front door to Emma's house creaked loudly as she opened it, and gave a good burst of the rotten wood smell. The first thing that came at her after she closed the door was Jeans, the talking house cat that believed he was a dog. Unfortunately, Jeans only talked to Emma, so whenever she spoke of Jeans' talking habits, everyone stared at her like she was crazy.
Jeans sprinted from down the stairs and pounced onto Emma, his claws digging into her thick coat. Jeans was a single-colored orange tabby, if that made any sense. And he absolutely loved Emma to death.
“Good to see you, too, Jeans!” she said and cuddled him gently.
“Welcome home, Emma!” Ethan called.
Ethan was Emma's older brother by two years. The two were very close, but they weren't always like that. Ten years ago, their parents died, and they were taken in by their Aunt Jemimah. After a while, they got kicked out because of Ethan's 'awkward and radical rebellious stage.' In compensation, the two's rent was paid for, and their groceries were delivered weekly by the top grocery companies. As a pair, they received an average of $10,000 a month to spend on extra things such as utilities, since those weren't covered for, and for savings.
“Come eat dinner and then go do your homework,” he called from the kitchen. Emma did as she was told, and then crawled into bed for sleep. “Good night, Emma,” he said as he switched the light off and closed the door.
Emma closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the giant green frog plushie she had.
A few hours pass. Suddenly the door creaked open, and so did Emma's eyes. She sat up just as Jeans jumped onto her bed. “Good evening, Em. Would you like to go out tonight?” asked Jeans, standing on his hind legs and bowing in a very gentlemanly manner. Emma nodded her head and she climbed out of bed. She dug through her bottom dresser and pulled out a miniature tuxedo, perfectly sized for Jeans.
“As usual, here's your tux, Mr. Jeans.” The cat jumped off the bed, took the clothes from Emma, and slipped them on easily.
This was their usual routine. Ethan would think Emma were asleep, and she'd either play video games or read a book until she got bored. And that's when Jeans swings by.
“Where would you like to go this time?” he asked, now standing on the bed.
Emma took a seat next to him. “How about to the port?”
Jeans swatted his paw. “Nah; too far. How about somewhere close tonight?” he asked, and then stood on the bed. “How about the roof?”
Emma stared down at her little feline companion. “Why somewhere close? We usually go to faraway places in the city.”
“Why? Because it's five in the morning and you need to get some sleep, that's why.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Emma said and swayed her head side to side, thinking. “You're right. Let's go.” At once, the two jumped off the bed and ran over to Emma's room window. “You go up first, and then I'll follow,” she said, and grabbed Jeans off the floor.
“If you say so, Em.” Jeans jumped out of Emma's arms and used his claws to climb to the top of the roof. “Follow me closely! I don't want you to be falling, Em.” Emma climbed slowly out her window, feet resting on the windowsil at first, and then on the solid roof beside her. With turtle-like speed, she reached the roof's crest and sat beside Jeans.
“Haa!,” she sighed, and thrust her arms up in the air. “I did it!”
“This is your first time on the roof, isn't it?”
“Yes, it is, Mr. Jeans. … Ah, look! The sun's starting to rise! Isn't it pretty?” She pointed to the faraway glowing light that had started to grow.
Jeans nodded. “It is,” he said, and began to sit like a normal cat. Only when the moon was out was he able to talk, which was why he bonded so quickly to Emma, who always stayed up late.
“Ah, look! The moon's still so high in the sky! It's called a waning quarter, or something like that, right?” Jeans' tail swayed back and forth slowly, being mildly movement-limited because of the clothing.
“Actually, this is a waning crescent, and in a few days, we'll have the new moon.” Jeans shifted in his spot and seemed to become uncomfortable. Emma saw through it immediately and began to pet Jeans' head.
“It's okay, Mr. Jeans. We go through this every month, and every month your voice comes back, right? Besides, it's just four nights.”
Mr. Jeans crossed his arms. “Just four nights? It's four nights without speaking! Four nights when we should be going out and walking around town, but not!” This kind of argument didn't happen often, but it did still happen. So far, four times, maybe?
Emma grabbed Jeans and rested him in her lap—this wasn't what she normally did. “Hey! Let go! I'm not a cat!”
“Shh. Mr. Jeans, I'm sure you're going to be able to talk again when the moon comes back. You've been talking ever since you've been born, and I don't see any reason why you would stop. So just calm down and enjoy all the times we have left before we die.” Emma stroked his head and patted his back. This was what often calmed Jeans down.
Jeans coughed and rested a paw on Emma's hand. “You're right, Em. We should enjoy this while we can.” He crawled out of Emma's lap and sat nicely on his own.
“Hey, Mr. Jeans, do you hear that?”
“It's the noisy neighbors playing like an orchestra again. I'm sure Ethan will wake up soon because of them. I think we should head back,” Jeans said and stood, getting ready to leave.
“No, no. Let's stay here a little longer. Please?”
Sighing, Jeans nodded and sat back down. “Alright, alright. A little longer.”
When the moon came back, Jeans' gift of speech wasn't given back. The sadness that grew over Jeans and Emma's heads seemed to ever grow, and was depressingly large.
The next week, Jeans ran away. Emma and Ethan put up missing signs, even with a small reward, but no one ever called to report their findings. Emma's grades plummeted, and Ethan desperately wanted to do something to help his little sister.
Too bad there was nothing they could do.
Alright, so the official summery is, "Marina finally gets let out of the apartment, and this is what happens? Rated M for nudity and swearing." But that's edging on minimum and into nothing.
Yes, it's one of the installments for
What happens in this piece is Marina finally goes out on her own (or, without Eliot). Carmina, Nicole, and Marina go to a local bar, where they drink themselves silly. Actually, Carmina's the only one who gets drunk like a nutcase. Marina can hold her liquor, and Nicole's only buzzed.
The girls get picked up by the guys, Alvin, Harold, and Orin. That is where things go awry. It has a happy ending, though. Promise :{D~
Loving Eliot Groussé: Walking Alone by Tori Lo
She slammed down the phone and ran to the bedroom, where Eliot lay. The door opened with a swoosh and Eliot turned over to look at her. “Don't be so loud. It was a stressful day today. Don't bother me.” She flinched at his words, but dared venture further.
“Um, Eliot? Can I ask you something?” Marina said, voice trembling slightly. She was scared of how ruthless Eliot could be with his words.
He sat up and stared at her, his suit jacket strewn on the floor and necktie loosely dangling around his collar and neck. “What is it?” Marina brightened. He was sleepy, so he'd be nicer to her.
“Ah, um... Can I go out tonight with some friends?”
“Who are they?” Eliot whipped his words at her and she flinched.
“Um... the girls. Carmina, Nicole...”
“Where are you going?” He sounded on edge, but Marina knew he was just concerned about his newly wedded wife being snatched from him. At least, that was what she wanted to believe.
“Oh, just for a night on the town.”
“If it shuts you up, go ahead. You never get out anyway. Quit being such a shut in. Go away,” he snapped and laid back down, belly on the bed.
Feeling a bit hurt by his words but still happy about being able to leave for the night, Marina rushed to her closet and got dressed in her best party clothes—not that she had many to begin with. At around seven 'o clock, Carmina and Nicole came to pick her up.
“Hey! Nice to finally see the Overlord let you out. When was the last time we did something like this?” Carmina asked, wrapping an arm around Marina's shoulder. They laughed.
“A long time? I'm glad I could spend time with you guys, too. Will there be anyone else joining us tonight?” Marina asked. Carmina looked at Nicole and winked.
“There sure will be. But that's for later. Right now, we're headed for a bar for some drinks.”
“Actually, that's where we're going to be meeting the others, right, Carmina?” Nicole asked, and Marina looked at he two, knowing there was a secret plot being played behind her.
Carmina noticed Marina's awkward look and frowned. “Something against surprises? Doesn't that ruthless man plot them on you all the time, Mrs. Newlywed?”
“Oh, be quiet... That was just a misunderstanding.”
“Sure, it was. Come on, let's go, you two,” Carmina said and started pulling the two towards the nearest bus stop.
The bus ride to the bar wasn't very comfortable for Marina. It was mostly Carmina and Nicole bashing Eliot, and when they reached the bar, they still wouldn't stop. After they got buzzed, though, that was when Marina was starting to enjoy the night.
After a few hours of drinking, talking, bashing, and generally being asses, they left to wait for their rides elsewhere.
“Who exactly is picking us up?” Marina asked. She could still talk coherently because, surprisingly, she can take on a lot of liquor. Nicole could hold herself pretty well, too, but Carmina was a full-blown drunkard.
“What! Of course we're waiting for the guys! Nicole! Where's the absinthe!” she asked, and spun around three times, looking for Nicole who was on her left.
“Back in the bar, Mina. We're leaving now, though. I'm sure you can have some of Alvin's gin if you ask nicely.”
“To hell with asking nicely! I'm going to rip out his vocal chords if he doesn't hand over that alcohol!” Three cars pulled up in front of the bar and Carmina immediately headed for the middle one. “Alvin! Give me that gin!” she cried and climbed into the car.
“Hahaha!” Nicole wailed, and people were staring.
Alvin, a young man with black and blonde hair climbed out of the middle car. The first thing Marina really noticed were his eyes, which were a steel-cold blue. Around his neck he wore an iron cross shaped like holly leaves, and he wore just a plain short sleeved t-shirt, jeans, and converse sneakers. He must be cold, Marina thought. “Nicole, get in with Harold before you attract too much attention. Paris can be mean when you're acting insane.”
“Yes, Alvin!” Nicole shouted and climbed into the third car.
Carmina rolled down her window and shouted, “Get in the car, Alvin! Let's go!” There were a few people shouting remarks about Carmina, and Alvin turned shifty. He motioned with his chin to the first car.
“That's Orin's car. For you. We're going to be taking you all to my place for the night...” He stopped talking when he noticed Marina's concerned eyes. He noticed she wasn't very drunk after all, and he let out a laugh. He muttered something and then shone a bright smile somehow unlike him. “Nothing bad's going to happen,” he said and then finally climbed back into his car, much to Carmina's relief.
Hesitantly, Marina walked to the first car and climbed in. Orin was next to her and showed her a bright smile. He had shoulder length bleached-blonde hair and dressed very fashionably. “Hello, Marina. Nice to meet you. To Alvin's?” Marina nodded and Orin revved the engine. As if it were rehearsed several times, the three cars pulled out simultaneously.
The car ride was silent. Awkwardly silent, and everything smelt of the 'new car' smell with a hint of mint. It made her mildly nauseous.
Orin, noticing Marina's discomfort, asked, “Is something wrong?”
Lying, she said, “It's nothing.”
He laughed, and his hand left the steering wheel to rest on her thigh. “You sure it's nothing? I can feel the tension off of you... What might it be from, I wonder?” Marina stared down at the hand on her thigh, eyes wide, breath held. She was impressed of how Orin could operate the car and the thigh hand at the same time. Had he done something like this before? On Paris' horrible roads, too!
His hand started creeping up her leg and she gagged and shoved his hand away. The car swerved and he shouted at her, “What was that for?” He grabbed her and pulled her close, the car swerving a bit as Orin lost attention on the road. It was now when Marina smelt the alcohol from his breath, and she instinctively pulled away, shrieking. She had no idea what to do, and she didn't know what was going to happen.
The only thing that came to mind, as she was clinging to passenger door, was to get away. Her eyes darted to the car door handle and she pulled. Marina tumbled out of the car onto the hard concrete road. A burning pain etched its way onto her palms, forehead, elbows, and knees. It felt like she had just crawled a hundred feet, scraping along the road. She began to bleed, and she began to cry, shriveled up on a side country road outside of Paris.
After a few minutes of useless weeping, she sat up and looked around. Paris' lights were far away, about the size of a ladybug. It was cold out, and to get home Marina knew she'd have to get walking. So she did. After the first fifteen minutes of walking, her feet began to hurt. “Why me?” she cried out and took off her high heels. The road was cold and hard under her feet, hurting it a bit, but the cooling sensation soothed her ache.
It was sure past midnight now, and it seemed Marina was no closer to Paris than before. There'd been about five or so cars that drove by without asking how she was. How rude, she had said.
Another car was just about to drive by her and she looked in the opposite direction, not wanting to look into the eyes of the driver this time.
The car stopped. “Get in, now.” That voice was familiar, she thought, and zipped her head around to see the oh-so-familiar car of Eliot. She smiled brightly and got in the car. “So tell me,” he started, and Marina got herself ready for a scolding. “How the fuck did you get all the way out here?”
“Um... well--”
“That bitch Carmina calls me, shouting at the top of her lungs to pick you up somewhere near Champlain. I was off having a good time in Orléans, and then this comes up! Take better care of yourself. Why don't you understand how important you are! Do you get any of it?” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel and dashboard a few times whenever he couldn't control his anger. But, no matter how angry or upset Eliot was, he'd never touch Marina, and they both knew it.
Marina nodded sadly and hung her head. “Yes...”
He sighed. “Good. Now keep your mouth shut unless I ask you something. There are a lot of things to do when we get home,” he said, looking over Marina's body.
Eliot slammed the door behind him as he walked in behind Marina. “Go to the couch and get undressed. I'll start the bath,” he said and headed for the washroom without even taking off his shoes, the soles leaving scuff marks on the hardwood floor. Marina obediently sat down on the couch and began taking off her clothes.
A few minutes passed before Eliot shouted, “The water's ready! Come here!” Marina quickly threw off the rest of her clothes and scampered to the washroom. It was steamy and the floor was a bit wet. Eliot's sleeves were rolled up to just past his elbows, and he was kneeling next to the tub. She stood in the doorway, staring down at Eliot as he looked up at her with a firm gaze. “Well?” A hot blush comes over her face and Eliot rolls his eyes, then stands.
Eliot wraps an arm around Marina's shoulder and walks her to the tub. He closes the door as she climbs in. When he turns to look down at Marina, she still has the bright blush. He hides the small smile on his lips and bends down next to her. They share a long gaze before he speaks, “I've seen your body plenty of times. Don't be embarrassed or shy.” He grabbed Marina's purple loofah from the floor and squirted soap onto it.
“Ah! That's too much!” she shrieked, and received a deadpanned expression from Eliot.
“Is that so? How about you wash yourself!” he shouted and threw the loofah into the tub.
“No, Eliot! Don't go!” Marina jumped out of the tub and ran after Eliot into the bedroom, leaving a trail of water behind her. Eliot turned around. When he saw her naked, wet body run into the room he instinctively grabbed her and threw her onto the bed before climbing on top of her. This kind of thing tended to happen often, but this time there was a pause. “Eliot?” He looked at her scrapes, still bleeding. The blood mixed with the water, giving off the appearance of her bleeding more than she actually was. Again, lower this time, she whispered, “Eliot?” – this time adding – “do you want to?”
He got off her and yanked her back to the bath. “I don't want to dirty our bed with those ugly blood colors. Get in and I'll wash you. … You left this trail of water? Are you stupid or what?” Marina got back into the bath and Eliot began scrubbing her with the loofah, blood getting everywhere. The washing didn't give the blood enough time to clog and stop, but the bath was quick, and soon Marina was lifted out bridal style and laid on the towel covered toilet. He pulled the plug and began rubbing Marina down with another towel, turning it bloodstained.
“Tomorrow, we're going shopping in the evening for new towels and bandages.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder again and walked her to the bedroom, where he bandaged her up and dressed her in her winter pajamas. “Stay here. I'll make us some cocoa and then we'll watch some TV before going to sleep,” he said and left. But before he became out of reach she grabbed his shirt. He turned around and gave her a cold stare, telling her to let go.
“Thank you, Eliot,” she said, stuttering. Eliot shrugged.
“No problem. I love you, louse,” he said and left.
Marina fell back onto the bed and rolled over to her side to grab and snuggle with her pillow. “Eliot is a nice person, sometimes. And he loves me...” She squeezed the pillow, but let go when her palms started hurting, substituting it with chewing the inside of her cheek. A few minutes later, Eliot came back with two cups of hot cocoa and handed one to Marina. “Thank you.”
“Yep.” He flicked on the TV they had and the two of them quietly began to watch. For a few hours, this went on. Marina could barely see the faint glow of the sun as she laid back onto her bed and snuggled into the covers, her body still sore. “Tired?” he asked, and she nodded. “Go to sleep. I'll call in sick today, then I'll make breakfast. We can nap until evening, and when we wake up we can go grocery shopping,” he continued and left the room, closing the door gently.
A warm smile came across Marina's lips as she thought of her immense love for Eliot. Even though he was barking orders at her, she clearly felt the warmth that he had showed her.
Under the covers of the bed she shares with Eliot, the love of her life, Marina turned away from the window and went into a soft sleep.
This is another story I've come up with. Originally called, "A Musical Night," and a oneshot, turned into this twoshot piece.
It's basically about a girl named Emma Alexander, and her talking pet cat, Jeans. This first part focuses on the anxiety Jeans has of loosing his talent of speech, Emma and Jeans' nightly routine, and Emma's ordinary, mundane life outside her hours with Jeans. Keep a heads up sometime next week for the second installment.
A Little Night Music by Tori Lo
The school bell rang, echoing all over school grounds. It was loud and annoying, making many children's ears ache. It was in the middle of autumn, so the sun was already on it's fast track to dusk. Students from all years started shuffling out of the tall building and off the premises, most of them talking like the chattering teenagers they were.
Emma Alexander, a freshman at Sunnydale High, wandered off the school grounds and somehow made it past the triflingly busy road to the bus stop. She had a book in her hands and over sized headphones on her head. She was quiet, and smiled as she did her own thing.
The number sixteen bus came and Emma briefly showed her monthly bus pass before taking her usual seat. In ten minutes, she arrived at the train station, and in fifteen minutes, she started walking home.
The front door to Emma's house creaked loudly as she opened it, and gave a good burst of the rotten wood smell. The first thing that came at her after she closed the door was Jeans, the talking house cat that believed he was a dog. Unfortunately, Jeans only talked to Emma, so whenever she spoke of Jeans' talking habits, everyone stared at her like she was crazy.
Jeans sprinted from down the stairs and pounced onto Emma, his claws digging into her thick coat. Jeans was a single-colored orange tabby, if that made any sense. And he absolutely loved Emma to death.
“Good to see you, too, Jeans!” she said and cuddled him gently.
“Welcome home, Emma!” Ethan called.
Ethan was Emma's older brother by two years. The two were very close, but they weren't always like that. Ten years ago, their parents died, and they were taken in by their Aunt Jemimah. After a while, they got kicked out because of Ethan's 'awkward and radical rebellious stage.' In compensation, the two's rent was paid for, and their groceries were delivered weekly by the top grocery companies. As a pair, they received an average of $10,000 a month to spend on extra things such as utilities, since those weren't covered for, and for savings.
“Come eat dinner and then go do your homework,” he called from the kitchen. Emma did as she was told, and then crawled into bed for sleep. “Good night, Emma,” he said as he switched the light off and closed the door.
Emma closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into the giant green frog plushie she had.
A few hours pass. Suddenly the door creaked open, and so did Emma's eyes. She sat up just as Jeans jumped onto her bed. “Good evening, Em. Would you like to go out tonight?” asked Jeans, standing on his hind legs and bowing in a very gentlemanly manner. Emma nodded her head and she climbed out of bed. She dug through her bottom dresser and pulled out a miniature tuxedo, perfectly sized for Jeans.
“As usual, here's your tux, Mr. Jeans.” The cat jumped off the bed, took the clothes from Emma, and slipped them on easily.
This was their usual routine. Ethan would think Emma were asleep, and she'd either play video games or read a book until she got bored. And that's when Jeans swings by.
“Where would you like to go this time?” he asked, now standing on the bed.
Emma took a seat next to him. “How about to the port?”
Jeans swatted his paw. “Nah; too far. How about somewhere close tonight?” he asked, and then stood on the bed. “How about the roof?”
Emma stared down at her little feline companion. “Why somewhere close? We usually go to faraway places in the city.”
“Why? Because it's five in the morning and you need to get some sleep, that's why.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Emma said and swayed her head side to side, thinking. “You're right. Let's go.” At once, the two jumped off the bed and ran over to Emma's room window. “You go up first, and then I'll follow,” she said, and grabbed Jeans off the floor.
“If you say so, Em.” Jeans jumped out of Emma's arms and used his claws to climb to the top of the roof. “Follow me closely! I don't want you to be falling, Em.” Emma climbed slowly out her window, feet resting on the windowsil at first, and then on the solid roof beside her. With turtle-like speed, she reached the roof's crest and sat beside Jeans.
“Haa!,” she sighed, and thrust her arms up in the air. “I did it!”
“This is your first time on the roof, isn't it?”
“Yes, it is, Mr. Jeans. … Ah, look! The sun's starting to rise! Isn't it pretty?” She pointed to the faraway glowing light that had started to grow.
Jeans nodded. “It is,” he said, and began to sit like a normal cat. Only when the moon was out was he able to talk, which was why he bonded so quickly to Emma, who always stayed up late.
“Ah, look! The moon's still so high in the sky! It's called a waning quarter, or something like that, right?” Jeans' tail swayed back and forth slowly, being mildly movement-limited because of the clothing.
“Actually, this is a waning crescent, and in a few days, we'll have the new moon.” Jeans shifted in his spot and seemed to become uncomfortable. Emma saw through it immediately and began to pet Jeans' head.
“It's okay, Mr. Jeans. We go through this every month, and every month your voice comes back, right? Besides, it's just four nights.”
Mr. Jeans crossed his arms. “Just four nights? It's four nights without speaking! Four nights when we should be going out and walking around town, but not!” This kind of argument didn't happen often, but it did still happen. So far, four times, maybe?
Emma grabbed Jeans and rested him in her lap—this wasn't what she normally did. “Hey! Let go! I'm not a cat!”
“Shh. Mr. Jeans, I'm sure you're going to be able to talk again when the moon comes back. You've been talking ever since you've been born, and I don't see any reason why you would stop. So just calm down and enjoy all the times we have left before we die.” Emma stroked his head and patted his back. This was what often calmed Jeans down.
Jeans coughed and rested a paw on Emma's hand. “You're right, Em. We should enjoy this while we can.” He crawled out of Emma's lap and sat nicely on his own.
“Hey, Mr. Jeans, do you hear that?”
“It's the noisy neighbors playing like an orchestra again. I'm sure Ethan will wake up soon because of them. I think we should head back,” Jeans said and stood, getting ready to leave.
“No, no. Let's stay here a little longer. Please?”
Sighing, Jeans nodded and sat back down. “Alright, alright. A little longer.”
When the moon came back, Jeans' gift of speech wasn't given back. The sadness that grew over Jeans and Emma's heads seemed to ever grow, and was depressingly large.
The next week, Jeans ran away. Emma and Ethan put up missing signs, even with a small reward, but no one ever called to report their findings. Emma's grades plummeted, and Ethan desperately wanted to do something to help his little sister.
Too bad there was nothing they could do.
