petiition

[petiition]

   he wasn’t versed in the psychology of women, but    he figured her silence wasn’t a good thing. it wasn’t    anything against her, really. but he’d finally found a    relationship that he liked. somewhere in between the    one he had with his mother and father. slightly horrible    and borderline abusive - the slushie reigning proof of    the fact - but also kind of awesome and edgefully endearing.    the pressure of her fingers against his skin a prime example. 

   and he just wasn’t willing to give that up at the hand of chivalry.    but, if she was going to become a recluse in his presence, maybe    he would have to make a few changes. with a sigh, he reached    up to pull her hand from his sticky face and willed his glance to    move her direction.  

    ❛  i GUESS, if you want, i could be a little        nicer.        just don’t get your hopes up or anything.  ❜

     ❝ … a little, but… ❞ a sigh. she      doesn’t want what they have to       change, but she wouldn’t mind      it if he acted NICER every once      in a while. after all, the other boys,      like peter dawson, don’t act like      this towards her. maybe that’s      because j.d doesn’t a c t u a l l y      like her. she wouldn’t be surprised.

     the twelve year old, from then      on out, has a change in demeanor.      she becomes quiet, pensive. she’s      staring at his face to be able to clean      it, but she’s not actually SEEING      anything. o d d how one little thought      can keep her locked in her mind.      it really would SUCK, though, if jason      dean didn’t like her. what if he argued      with his mom every night;; told her      that it was high time he stops PRETENDING?

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      ❛  just  tellin’  the  truth , baby.           you’re fun to MESS WITH.  ❜

     ❝ confusing me is a HOBBY of yours? c r u e l . ❞

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    HANDLING THIS was an understatement. He was tolerant,     calmer than he had expected himself to be. He figured the     CHAOS, the PANIC would set in later. For now, he had to     be the adult that he clearly wasn’t when this happened. The     last thing she needed was to deal with him on top the trouble     already turning over in her mind. fingers raked through the     hair that swept across his forehead, remaining there if only     briefly. a nervous habit. 

           HER FUCKING PARENTS. 

    He sometimes failed to remember that some people had     familial lives that weren’t utterly dysfunctional. he already     received vacant stares and glances, from her father especially.     so how to you allude a situation in which you would became the     most hated boyfriend? SARCASM, of course.  

            ❛  We’re giving them the GIFT OF LIFE, start                 calling your dad POPS. they’ll get over it.  ❜ 

    he hadn’t given thought to his father. the man probably wouldn’t     care. a few moments of panic followed by a heartfelt lecture about     how fucked up his only son had become followed by a satirical remark     about being a grandpa. it would be quick && painful. it honestly hadn’t     become priority. ❛like anything else: with a grain of salt. his attention     span avoids me at all costs.❜    

Being ALLOWED to cry doesn’t make her any more willing to do so. She hadn’t cried at her best friend’s funeral, she sure as Hell wasn’t willing to cry over a mistake just as large. Amazing how many h o r r i b l e slip ups happened with JD around. 

Getting angry with him wouldn’t solve anything. It was partially her own fault, anyway.

The expression earned a sigh of relief. A comforting note to hear during moments of distress, that I love you. A smile hints at her lips and she nods a bit. If JD could handle this, she could, too. 

                              “ My parents are going to kill us. “

It’s whispered out, her hands travelling up to rest on his shoulders. Pissed beyond belief- she could already hear the disappointment in her mother’s voice.

                              “  How’s the Beaver going to take it? “

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      ❛  SWIM, i don’t fuckin’ know! analogies aren’t my thing.          but you don’t have to be some mindless STEPFORD          WIFE just following in their every move. ❜ so, maybe          comforting wasn’t going to be one of his strong suits.          probably EVER. but veronica saw some sense of          LIGHT in her; who would he be if he didn’t honor that?        ❛  don’t WHINE about being WHINY, and you’ll be fine.          i’m trying to HELP you, okay? so stop picking yourself          apart, jesus.  ❜

she shook her head, “then what? just wait in the freezing water until i die or— or just pray one of those LIFEBOATS comes around?” ah. back to that lifeboat analogy. all of her thoughts on this subject ended up back here. “a— anyway. i AM weak. and a coward, and whiny.” and, she probably shouldn’t be telling all of this shit to anyone. especially not jason dean.

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     ❛  so, you don’t LIKE the way things are? not       with us,         but this. what we’ve DONE. the things we’ve CHANGED.         it wasn’t worth it to you? sure, i’ll take you to the movies.         and fucking PROM. i can DO that, veronica. but not to make         up for the wrong that we HAVEN’T DONE.

                                                   you won’t leave me.  ❜

“ Not killing people. “

                          Fucking obvious, Urkel, Jesus.

“ Dumb…dates and prom and just- just   being s e v e n t e e n, JD! If being with   you means people dying-                                 Then GOODBYE. “

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    A smirk crept up to his lips, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.     The WELCOME WAGON was       nice, to say the least. So he     reached forward to take her hand, glancing up to nod once in     her direction.  ❛J.D.        nice to meet you, Caddy.❜

“I make it my mission to be real welcoming. I’m not one to go closin’ doors I might want to open again someday, you know?”

She offered her hand.

“I’m Caddy, by the way. And your name?”

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    A humorous scoff escapes his lips, the irony producing     an amused smirk. it was a secret well kept, for good     reasons of course. but it had truthfully been the lack of     friends - veronica’s to be exact - that fucked the both of     them over. but he simply nodded, clearing his throat to     rid himself of the humor.  ❛I’ll talk to her. Just do whatever     makes you         YOU. you don’t need a shit ton of people     to do that.❜

“Thanks. And hey…you could always remind her that I’m less likely to fuck up without friends.” Cause, you know, Cat assumes you’re talking about the whole teenage pregnancy thing. Not the ‘we killed all our friends or at least tried to’ thing.

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       his professed smirk only grows, lips pressing against     hers and teeth grazing her bottom lip.  ❛greedy, are we?❜

She reaches for his trench and pulls him into her. “Too late.”

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 ❛  MYSTERIOUS TRENCH COAT KID would     suffice. But for formalities sake      it’s J.D.  ❜

❝ Thanks. So, you got a name? Or will I have to refer to you as ‘mysterious trench coat kid’? ❞

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    it was never an OPTION to leave her. leave her alone,     with the thoughts that were urging her to litter permanent     scars over her porcelain skin. he wouldn’t pretend to know     what to say. how to react. how to behave. his silence was     genuine. EMPTY. letting her fill what little space he had. 

    yes, guilt floods his veins and mixes with the initial anger     he’d felt as he watched her harm herself. with her head     weighing heavy against his shoulder, he moves to wrap     an arm around her body. not pulling, nor pushing. just     THERE. lips press to the top of her head, a sigh of relief     blowing a few strands from his possession. she hadn’t let     him in, but she had accepted that he wasn’t gong to be     coaxed out. 

    he wasn’t accommodated with sympathy, never for anyone     but himself. but the sorrow he felt for her, it outweighed the     confusion. was this his fault? he didn’t know. but it was selfish     to wish for her to stop only for his own comfort. he’d never     thought that she was the one who needed fixing.   

                   ❛          i’m sorry.❜

     she doesn’t know what she could possibly      do or say to get him to leave. at this point,      the little ounce of hope that she had has      diminished completely. she’s more angry      at herself, now, for being caught, instead      of being upset with him for catching her.      funny how things like that work. 

     so, she just gives up trying to get him to      vacate the room. now she just sits there,      crying, piteous, in the middle of the room      on top of her bed, with her probably-worried      boyfriend next to her. probably confused, too.      unfortunately, she doesn’t know how to       explain it. doesn’t particularly want to, either.

     slowly, she moves to rest her head on his      shoulder. to try to calm down. if her head was      clearer, maybe she can think of an explanation.      maybe he can help her STOP what she’s doing.      and despite how much she really, r e a l l y      wants to be alone right now, since she’s not      going to be, she might as well get comfortable.

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       ❛  three corpes later, you’re a little LATE, sweetheart.  ❜

❝I didn’t ASK for any of this JD! I didn’t WANT this!❞

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       you get what you give. a stick for a match.     ❛  it’s a bonding experience, really. ❜ he offered        teasingly, a cigarette squeezed between smirking lips.

❝ Always. ❞ She pulled a cigarette from the carton in her back pocket and traded it for the match. ❝ Best part of smoking- there’s always another smoker around. ❞

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   ❛  i’m not laughing.  ❜ he retorted, expression    neutral && gaze even. he found no humor in    this. the slightest confusion etched into his skin    as an after glow of her own mind. he was but a    projection; he was completely at her will. every    move, every word. it seemed that she’d realized    that she’d had about enough. his thumb traced    circles over the back of her hand, passing over    the veins beneath her skin tenderly. 

     ❛  you can touch me because you WANT         to touch me. you can see me because         you WANT to see me. i’m here because         you NEED someone. ❜   

As soon as his hand covered hers, Veronica’s gaze was drawn towards it. If he wasn’t real - as he has said - how was any of this possible? How had she gone through all of this without noticing? He FELT real, and he SOUNDED real. Taking a deep breath, Veronica turned her hand over while it was still under his grasp and her slender fingers interlaced with his. She felt as though she was about to spiral, but having him here caused some sense of comfort - even if it were all true and she wasn’t really in his company.

❝This still doesn’t make any sense. I can TOUCH you, that has to mean something. This isn’t funny JD.❞

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       ❛  no shit?? you’re not fuckin’           around with your liquor.  ❜

❛ well do you have any on you? i only carry    around  whiskey in  my flask,  not vodka. ❜

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    ❛  The social construct is a fucked up POLITICAL        SYSTEM. underrated, if you ask me.  ❜

“Socially acceptable is overrated honestly.”

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         ❛  well, maybe yours are LONELY. sadness always             seeks a friend, veronica. all thoughts ALIKE.  ❜

     ❝ well, yeah, it makes you think.      but it’s sad thoughts most of the      time, and i have enough of those      already. ❞

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    he looked down on her, watching her finger mess     with the collar of his coat - practically frayed from     years of use - as an amused smirk colored his     features. frankly, if she HAD to have been with any     one else he couldn’t say that he minded it being the     wicked witch of westerburg. she was easy on the eyes,     and the two of them were certainly easy on the imagination.     his, to be specific.  

  ❛  because it’s such TORTURE to hear you ramble on.      you’re SPARING me. you’ve never kissed anyone else?      spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven, truth or dare.                                                                          NOTHING?  ❜  

     it’s not like they had sex or anything. they      hadn’t even kissed, this being a fake story      and all. his reaction, though, is heavily watched.      gaze falls on his hand snaking around his neck      to rub. anxiously? she isn’t sure. which is why      she decides not to let this go on any longer,      moving to toy with the collar of his trenchcoat.

     ❝ i appreciate you being a good boyfriend      and all, but you don’t have to succumb to      listening to me rant on about what i’ve done.      you don’t have to worry, though, because other      than you and chandler, i’ve never even kissed      someone before. ❞ lies, obviously. she quite      liked the fact that he had been the only boy      she’d ever kissed before. – she kissed martha      in the second grade, though. it was gross. they      both agreed.