Skating The Edge

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 10:12:59 GMT

I'm moving journals. I've decided a fresh start is the way to go.
From now on I will be over at winter_lace

I don't know if I'll transfer all my entries over. I probably will.

Wed, 16 Apr 2008 07:49:39 GMT

I know I've been lazy and gone for awhile but I'm going to spruce this diary up and start making regular posts.

No icons for awhile though. I don't have Photoshop atm.

xx

Tue, 25 Dec 2007 03:00:26 GMT

[mood| bored]
[music| evermore - light surrounding you ]

Title: Metal Heart
Rating: R, will be N17 in future
Pairings/Characters: Draco/OC, Fred/OC, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, George
Word Count: 1,283
Summery: He needed a war hero. So she returned back to a world that was nothing like how she left it.
Spoilers: This takes place after Deathly Hallows, nearly a year or so afterwards. It's not exactly AU, it's just expanding on a world we don't see much of. (Brief epilogue anyone?)
Warnings: Language and probably substance abuse. My versions of the characters may seem a little OOC but that's because it's after a war, a lot would have happened that would have changed them emotionally, they are probably all still adjusting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's various characters, locations or anything else the wonderful J.K has bestowed upon us. Nor do I own the lyrics to "To The Moon And Back" by Savage Garden

Chapter Three: Waking From a Dream

She’s taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside

Diagon Alley is deserted. Naturally. It’s 11pm at night, what idiot would be crawling through an empty street at that time. She’s apparates directly in front of the shop. The window is dusty, the merchandise is faded and the store looks empty. A simple alohamora and she was in the shop.

All around her was the evidence that he had lived. All around her signs that she did the wrong thing. Always the wrong thing. Always the wrong thing, the wrong time, the wrong moment.

There’s a thick layer of dust over everything. Nothing looks like it has been touched since she was here last year. A seventh year buying her school supplies. The twins running around the packed shop serving as many people as they could. She slips in and out. Unseen. They way it had always been.

A shadow girl.

On the far wall, behind the counter is a photo. Probably taken by Creevey. The twins out the front of their shop, probably on opening day, the high-fived and thumb uped the photographer. Ecstatic in their own success.

“What are you doing here?”

Her movement to face the intruder is beautiful. Her hair and skirts flare out, the faint light of moon catches on the dress making it glow in the areas that it touched. Ella isn’t thinking about the moment, she’s thinking about how she’s going to get out. How she’s planning to fight, with no wand while wearing the absolutely ridiculous dress.

When she sees his face for a moment she thinks it’s a ghost, indeed the moonlight washes away the freckles and gives his alabaster skin an almost transparent feel.

“You scared me.” Falls carelessly from her traitorous lips.

“I scared you? You’re the one that broke into my shop.”

She glances back to the photo. The twins in the picture are punching each other in the arm now, laughing joyfully. This is what the war had done. Ripped apart perfectly good souls, torn apart families, laid to rest youthful friends.

This is what death succeeded at.

“I was…” her voice trails off. Where to start? There was no where to start. What could she say to this boy that had lost the other half of him. ‘Hi, I used to hang out with Fred during free periods; I’m sorry about what happened.’ No. No way would Ella say that.

She turns back to George. A living ghost. “I’m sorry.” She holds out her hand. “My names Ella. I’ve been overseas I only just heard about…” She pauses at his name. It would almost be a curse if she said it. “… he was really nice to me.”

George ignores her hand. “I don’t need your condolences.” She notices the bottles of firewhiskey behind him. Some were empty, and there was a glass tumbler, half full by his side. “I need your absence.”

“Fine.” She turns to leave, already half way to the door before she hears his disembodied voice call after her.

“Don’t pretend to be put out. You’re the one that broke into my shop in the middle of the night.”

She opens the door, it trills a tune on the small bell above. She tried biting back a reply but Ella never had a good hold on her anger. “Sorry for caring.”

It’s low. She’s sure he wouldn’t have heard it. But she feels better for saying it. Fred Weasley was obviously a part of her very dream-like past now. Just another useless person to scorgify from her mind while she continued on with her meaningless existence.

*****

Draco finds her. Not really, he comes across her when he heads to bed for the night. She’s curled up in the corner closest to his mammoth four poster bed. It is ironically, also the darkest corner in the room.

“Lurking in people’s bedroom’s now, are we?” he drawls. Expecting a drool reply or nasty snark or even a death glare, what he doesn’t expect is for her look up with swollen eyes and mascara tears.

“Bloody hell Ella!”

He kneels before her. He’s never done well with crying girls. That’s why he got rid of Pansy Parkinson as soon as he could, if that little bitch didn’t get her way on came the water works. Draco loathed any female that used tantrums and tears to get their way. It was another reason he liked Ella so much. Not in the entire time he’d know her had she shed one single tear… except that one time when Crabbe threw a Quaffle at her face and broke her nose. But Draco like’s to think that was just a normal human reaction, for watery eyes to occur when something painful happens to your nose.

“Now is not the time to show your concern for me.” She spits out her voice cracking from the effort of trying to hold back her emotions, “Just let me drown in my own miserable tears in the corner of your bedroom.”

Draco chuckles. “You know, I would prefer it if you did it while not wearing that dress.”

She looks up shocked.

“You’re ruining it. It’s very expensive.”

A watery chuckle escapes her.

“Of course, can’t ruin a Malfoy Heirloom.”

“Let me help you up.” His arm snake around her back, she lets him pull her up. He’s surprised at how fragile she looks. Not once has Ella ever appeared fragile to him. Not in all those years that the Slytherin’s ignored her. Not once in the past nine years.

“Draco…” She’s shorter than him. He only notices now. She appears much shorter than what she really is. Something has happened. Her skin is burning. He hasn’t felt loose so much control since they were children, barely ready to board the Hogwarts Express.

“Ella, you need to clam down.” She’s startled by the concern in his voice. His charcoal grey eyes have the evidence of panic in them. He feels her pulls herself inwards and her skin cool effortlessly.

“You don’t normally loose it so …” Draco struggled to find the right word.

“I don’t normally loose it. At all.” She snaps.

“You haven’t registered yet have you?” He says quietly. Back peddled to sit on the bed.

“Well I wasn’t going to while that bitch Umbridge was in the Ministry, was I?”

“Ella…” He says.

“I’m not going to. You know I’m not. I can control it. I have for years.” She can feel a slow rage building in her now but she knows it has nothing to do with that other part of her. This was just pure rage.

“It’s dangerous, you know. I’ve read what happens. You could self implode. It’s not likely you’ll live past 25.”

“Draco. In the war, I didn’t think I’d live past the next day. The fact that I’m here and breathing is one giant fucken miracle.”

“You’re the only friend I have left.”

“Me? We were never really friends, you and I. I’m not pureblood enough for you. The only reason our mothers were friends was because the Lord of all things most Evil wanted my mother to join his bloody army. And he was prepared to do anything to get her to.”

“Ella!”

“You know it. I know it. The reason I did the dodgy job during the war. I could have saved people, Draco. But I was full of too much pride. I didn’t want to be put in a cage and poked at for the rest of my life.”

She’s walking away. And he can’t think of the words to stop her.

Sat, 22 Dec 2007 06:33:30 GMT

[mood| satisfied]
[music| broken social scene - anthems for a seventeen-year-old girl]

[11] Angel
[09] Buffy
[01] Evan Rachel Wood
[05] Gossip Girl
[04] Harry Potter
[01] Nikki Reed
[09] Audrey Kitching
[06] Thirteen

01.02.03.04.05.
06.07.08.09.10.
11.

12.13.14.15.16.
17.18.19.20.

21.

22.23.24.25.26.

27.28.29.30.

31.

32.33.34.35.36.
37.38.39.40.

41.42.43.44.45.

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 05:40:21 GMT

[mood| enraged]
[music| From Autumn To Ashes - Autumns Monologue]

Title: Metal Heart
Rating: R, will be N17 in future
Pairings/Characters: Draco/OC, Fred/OC, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, George
Word Count: 1,074
Summery: He needed a war hero. So she returned back to a world that was nothing like how she left it.
Spoilers: This takes place after Deathly Hallows, nearly a year or so afterwards. It's not exactly AU, it's just expanding on a world we don't see much of. (Brief epilogue anyone?)
Warnings: Language and probably substance abuse. My versions of the characters may seem a little OOC but that's because it's after a war, a lot would have happened that would have changed them emotionally, they are probably all still adjusting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's various characters, locations or anything else the wonderful J.K has bestowed upon us. Nor do I own the lyrics to "Crosses" by Jose Gonzalez. I only own Ella and any other random original character I chuck in.

Chapter Two: Please Understand.

People staring, they know you’ve been broken
Repeatedly reminded by the looks on their faces

She loves classical music but tonight she’s not in the mood for it. The barman doesn’t know how to make a Fruit Tingle, so she gets behind the bar and does it herself. She wants something heavier, both in music and in alcoholic beverage. Something heavier, trashier and more Muggle-like.

Something tacky like Snake Bites at a thrash metal gig.

She feels his hand on her back before she releases he’s there.

“You’ve been quite impressive. I’ve heard the Minister has already offered you a job?”

“Yes. I believe it was as the foreign diplomat to Australia. Not quite as prestigious as the French diplomat job, I believe.”

He puffed out his chest at that. “Naturally, the Malfoys’ always get the most grueling of positions.”

She giggled seductively, and whispered in a low voice, “So you’re truly as versatile as all those women claim you to be?”

His eyes smolder as he turns to face her, those grey eyes burning like hot coals. His voice is a low as hers when he replies. “I could prove it to you if you like.”

“Your room. In an hour. I’ll bring the leather, whip and chains.” She replies.

She can’t the stop the smirk that emerges as she walks away.

*****
“Hermione Granger.” The bushy haired girl attacks her outside the ladies bathroom. Hermione has her hand stuck out firmly and Ella reluctantly grasps at it with her own and they shake.

“I can’t believe I don’t remember you from Hogwarts.” She continues.

“I was a year older than you.”

“I was advanced.”

“I was a Slytherin.”

“I was for house unity.”

“I hung out with the Ravenclaws.”

“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.”

“I made point of not being noticed.”

“Ohh.”

“Little disappointing for a War Hero, huh? But I guess that’s what gave me an edge out there. But here I am blabbering about me when I’m talking to real War Hero. What was it like? I bet you saw some amazing stuff.”

Hermione clams up. Just like Ella expected her too. No one like’s talking about the war. They celebrate their heroes. Mention all the wonderful things they did for the community but no one likes to talk about the actually war. Not even Draco.

Ella conceded to Hermione’s assault. “If you really want to know about my Hogwarts days, Colin Creevey has some pretty amazing photos.”

The bushy haired girl blinks in wide mouthed shock, she looks a bit like a goldfish but since they’d already gotten off to such a smashing start Ella doesn’t mention it.

“You don’t know.” Hermione breathes.

“Know what?” Ella retorts bitterly.

“Colin Creevey died. At the battle of Hogwarts.”

Ella froze. The little Creevey munchkin dead? No, she hadn’t known that. She should just add it to the list of things that she never knew. She swallowed, trying to remove the lump in her throat.

“Who else?”

“Sorry.”

Ella looks up, impatient, “If you hadn’t noticed no one talks about the war, not in the reality of it anyway. God… if I wanted anything from bloody Draco I’d have to ply out his teeth he’s that tight lipped about the bloody thing. Who else died?”

“Well… Colin Creevey,” She begins reluctantly, “Remus Lupin.”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts. I remember. The Werewolf.”

“Tonks, err, Nymphdora Tonks she was an Auror… err… Mad-Eye Moody, another Auror… and um Fred Weasley.”

“Fred Weasley?”

“Yeah.”

“Fred Weasley’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God.”

“You were friends with the twins?”

Ella blinks then. Too much. Cover up. She felt like her soul had been exposed. No, not a good feeling. Not at all. In her mind she scrambles to reassemble the metal plates protecting her heart.

“No… no…not really. I mean I knew them. Who didn’t? They were legends in their own lunchboxes, weren’t they?”

Hermione blinks at her. She knew that Fred, of all the people they had seen pass away, seemed to be the one that lingered and made them grieve longer. She thought the Weasley family would go insane with their grief. So all consuming it had been, and still remained.

The orchestra located on a stage near the far end of the ballroom struck up with Vivaldi’s ‘Autumn’. Ella’s head spun.

“I have to go dance with Draco now.”

It was the most pathetic excuse that she had ever given to anyone, the Ella at Hogwarts who have chastised her and tried to make more of an effort. She can feel her whole body trembling as she strode across the dance floor and yanked Draco from the sideline’s on to it.

“Whoa!”

They settled into a comfortable waltz.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Sliding his palm under her chin to lift her face up to his, her eyes are bloodshot. Piercing. Her lips set into a hard line. He can feel her body tremble underneath the dress.

“You never told me Fred Weasley was dead.”

He knows her for being blunt. It’s something he loves about her. Her sharp cynical sarcasm and her blunt delivery. It was probably the entire reason why she was dumped in Slytherin when according to all the other Slytherins, she would have been better off in Ravenclaw.

“I assumed you knew.”

“I was undercover. Do you think I kept up with the Daily Prophet while traipsing around the Australian Outback?”

He holds her steady as they whirl around the shiny marble floor, but can’t reply. He takes too much for granted he knows. Her presence, of course. One of the few people who had actually continued contact. He, like her, had become an outcast of somewhat. No true friends, only allies and enemies.

“What about his brother? Is the joke shop still in Diagon Alley?”

“It’s a Weasley, Ella. Why do you care?”

Her nail’s bit into his hands. “You know why. Is the joke shop still there?”

“It hasn’t been open since the war. But yes, it’s still there.”

She let’s go of his hand abruptly.

“I guess this means no kinky sex later?” He mutters.

“You know, for once, you’re right.”

She’s up the stairs in that silver dress before he can really process what happened. On his hand are the crescent dents of her fingernails, a physical mark of her presence. The heat the rose through his body was the emotional mark.

Mon, 03 Sep 2007 04:48:48 GMT

[mood| aggravated]
[music| Operator Please - Song About Ping Pong]

ICONS!
It's a mixed bag Ladies and Gentleman

[03] Domino (keira knightly centric)
[20] Hex
[01] Harry Potter & The Order Of Phoenix
[11] Marie Antoinette
[21] Suburban Mayhem
[01] Suburban Mayhem User Info banner

Previews
01. 02. 03.

Domino
01.02.03.

Hex
04.05.06.07.08.

09.10.11.12.13.

14.15.16.17.18.

19.20.21.22.23.

Harry Potter & OoTP
24.

Marie Antoinette
25.26.27.28.29.

30.31.32.33.34.

35.

Suburban Mayhem
36.37.38.39.40.

41.42.43.44.45.

46.47.48.49.50.

51.52.53.54.55.

56.

User Info

Every one knows the rules. Credit please. Commenting is love and please don't change the textless icons. They are not bases.

Fri, 03 Aug 2007 11:43:00 GMT

[mood| sympathetic]
[music| Counting Crows - Colourblind]

My first Harry Potter fic.

Title: Metal Heart
Rating: R, will be N17 in future
Pairings/Characters: Draco/OC, Fred/OC, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, George
Word Count: 1,556
Summery: He needed a war hero. So she returned back to a world that was nothing like how she left it.
Spoilers: This takes place after Deathly Hallows, nearly a year or so afterwards. It's not exactly AU, it's just expanding on a world we don't see much of. (Brief epilogue anyone?)
Warnings: Language and probably substance abuse. My versions of the characters may seem a little OOC but that's because it's after a war, a lot would have happened that would have changed them emotionally, they are probably all still adjusting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or it's various characters, locations or anything else the wonderful J.K has bestowed upon us. Nor do I own the lyrics to "Crosses" by Jose Gonzalez. I only own Ella and any other random original character I chuck in.

Chapter One: Crosses

Don’t you know that I’ll be around to guide you?
Through your weakest moments to leave them behind you

“This is ridiculous.”

They’re standing in this huge room stuffed full of clothes. A whole room that was just four walls jam packed full of clothes.

“It’s perfect.” He says holding up the strapless silver ball gown.

“It’s a meringue.”

“You have no taste.” He replied, laying the gown over an armchair tenderly.

“It’s not your first born, you know.” She says with a sneer.

It’s not a playful conversation between friends, not the in jokes of barely adults who had known each other for their entire lives. No, the two people standing in this room are drawn together by something entirely more realistic.

He needed a war hero.

And she was the only one he could count on.

“What about this?” He pulls out a green satin gown with what appeared to be a black gossamer over robe. It was ostentatious and very Slytherin. And backless. Well… you could see through the over robe.

She blinks.

“We wouldn’t be setting ourselves apart at all, would we Draco? Isn’t this ludicrous party of yours supposed to be about unity and the new world? Not old prejudices?”

He looks down at the dress in his hands. “Your right,” He says slowly. “I should wear it.”

She snorts with what can only be understood as laughter. “I don’t understand why you need me here.” She says impatiently. Tracing her hand along a pair of shiny patent red stilettos.

“I’m sure I mentioned at some point that it looks overwhelmingly fantastic if there’s a war hero present. Since it is unbelievably unlikely that Potter, Granger, Weasley or Longbottom will make an appearance, you I believe, are my only choice.”

“It helps that I’m a Slytherin, doesn’t it though? I mean, nothing to make you look better than someone who was in your own house and didn’t have a bitter grudge against you to be standing by your side greeting all the ministry officials.”

“I do believe you’ve grasped the basic principal, yes.”

“Thank you for reassuring my long standing belief that you are a heartless worm that uses people for his own purposes.”

“That would make a fantastic obituary Ella, write that one down.”

She looks around the room at all the dresses, all property of the Malfoys. Naturally Ella didn’t own anything Draco deemed appropriate to wear. She wasn’t as much of a showoff as his family and preferred Muggle clothes. It was like an unnatural tick that gave her away, a trait that had buried itself within her during the war. A chill trickled down her spine at the thought.

The doorbell echoed through the manor like a clanging bell. Ella glared in the general direction of the noise.

“Ahhh, guests. I must go greet them.” She watches Draco straighten his dress robes in the mirror. “I’ll be back to check on your choice.”

Ella just stuck out her tongue at his retreating back.

She glances at herself in the mirror. Her lean legs stretching up to her hips that blossomed from the small of her waist, she was pale. Not quite as pale as Draco but the creamy porcelain of white chocolate. It stood out in contrast to her black underwear. Surprisingly, for the amount of time that she and Draco had spent together (of her own admittance, it wasn’t exactly a great deal of time) she was unnaturally comfortable being so naked around him.

She sighs and turns to see her back in the mirror. A dark tattoo curls and blooms on her lower back, only just above that it a large white scar. It wasn’t neat, like the scars on her arms, not easily covered. She winches at its stark trail across the expanse of her back. They’d all earned their scars hadn’t they? Wasn’t that in some speech Harry Potter had given in the immediate weeks after?

The war had ended nearly a year ago. But the pieces were still being picked up. This stupid party that Malfoy was throwing had something to do with his appointment of being made official consort to the French Minister of Magic.

Blah blah blah. It was great for Draco. After what had happened after the war. The trails. His family only just slipping through the iron clasp of the ministry, well not really. His father was under house arrest for five years. I think Harry Potter vouched for Narcissa and Draco.

She stares at the mirror’s reflection again. A lonely empty soul on the edge of nothing.

She picks up the silver gown, her fingers moving over the brittle fabric. Might as well. She was never going to get to wear something this beautiful or expensive ever again.

The dress is tight on her. Obviously Narcissa does not have the curves that she does. She finds a pair of silver heels and slips them on. Her hair is loose, long milk chocolate with select pink and white curls that fall to her waist, parted on the side with a long side sweeping fringe.

For a moment the brief perception of fairy princess comes to Ella and she very nearly laughs at herself. But her very nature resists the urge… she hasn’t laughed in a very long time. Not since, but she doesn’t want to think of thank. Walking through those halls almost seems more distant and unreal than what is happening right now.

“You scrub up nicely.” He drawls. Leaning against the doorway she can’t help but notice how very good he looked.

“Well, we couldn’t give the honored guests a bad show, could we?”

He spins something around on his finger. “You might want to wear this. It’ll complete the outfit.” He throws it to her carelessly and she catches it with graceful ease. Opening her palm she looks down on a silver necklace. Obviously goblin made. Modest diamonds sit in the hearts of the small roses that link together the necklace.

“Another fabulously expensive item?”

“Only the best.”

“I think that should be your family motto. Only the best. Isn’t that something like ‘tantum optimus’?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You are unappreciative and uneducated.”

“Screw you.”

“I wish.”

She pauses for a second then concludes to ignore him. If Draco Malfoy actually wanted to screw her he would have tried harder.

“You ready?”

She fastens the necklace then turns to him. “Of course.”

Frederic Chopin’s ‘Nocturne in E Flat Major’ was playing as they descended the stairs. The ballroom of Malfoy manor was already full of people, all in the finest. At the bottom of the stairs she notices Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger… all somewhat sulkily. Except Hermione, she appeared generally happy about being there.

“Potter, Weasley… Miss Granger.” Ella notes the insert of Miss for Hermione. Draco was intent on using his manners. They had after all shown up when he had made it quite clear to Ella he thought that they wouldn’t.

“Err… nice party you have going here, Malfoy,” Potter replies.

“Thank you.”

Their conversation is curt. But you can tell that underneath all the school yard bitterness there was some sort of respect for each other.

“Let me introduce you, to my good friend Ella. Ella this is Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you all.” I say politely while shaking each of their hands in turn. “Now Draco if you would be so kind to point me in the direction of the bar?”

Draco blinks for a moment. Then quietly replies. “Near the fireplace. I do believe you are acquainted with the area.”

She smiles gracelessly. “Yes. Thank you. Of course. I’ll make sure not to get too drunk.”

Ginny Weasley came up along the side. “I do believe you have firecracker on your hands Malfoy.”

Ron can’t help himself and sniggers.

Draco can’t even be bothered giving the Weasel a glare before his walks off.

“I’ve seen her before.” Harry says. “I just can’t think where.”

“I’d assume she would have gone to Hogwarts. Don’t you?” Ginny replied.

Hermione sniffed impatiently. “Yes ‘Mione, tell us your great wisdom.” Ron teased.

She sighed. “Don’t any of you read the prophet?”

They all stared at her rather dumbly. “I look at the pictures” Ron says.

“She’s Ella Zamora. She got people out of the country during the war. All the people that wanted to get out. The Muggle-borns, squibs, some of the half bloods and a few ‘blood traitors’. She was in Hogwarts, the year above us though.”

“I think I remember that,” Ginny replies, “Didn’t she ask for payment in return for safety?”

“That’s the interesting part. She took payment but donated most of it to a fund set up to help victims of the war. In the article it said she only took payment because that way people would trust her.”

“Riiight.”

“No, it make’s sense. During the war most people only did things for gain and those who didn’t you were suspicious of. Everyone has their own reasons for doing things; it’s rare that their intentions are as ever as good as ours were.”

Ginny smoothed out the folds in her dress. “Well… if she lives up to first impressions, I think we’ll have fun tonight.”

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 09:20:10 GMT

[mood| listless]
[music| Silversun Pickups - Rusted Wheel]

I made a fanmix. I made a fanmix.

It's for Katrina Skinner of Suburban Mayhem and is called the "Just Nineteen" EP

01. Nelly Furtado - Maneater

Maneater, make you work hard
Make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater
make you buy cars
make you cut cords
make you fall real hard in love

"I'm not sure how many boys Katrina knew, but I bet there was one for every letter of the alphabet."

02. Eagles Of Death Metal - I Only Want You

Cuz watching you suffer feels much better to me
I'm about to lay destruction on you
I'm not the lover man that you want me to be
I said well...

"Rusty, you can't even f*ck me properly anymore"

03. Little Birdy - This Is A Love Song

There's too many people around here that haven't
Seen anything like this before
This is a love song
This is a love song
Feeling the love anymore?
You're not my only faithful lover anymore

Katrina steals Rusty's Charger (type of car).

04. Garbage - Bad Boyfriend

So ripe so sweet come suck it and see
But watch out Daddy I sting like a bee
I know some tricks I swear will give you the bends
C'mon baby be my bad boyfriend

Katrina goes to Kenny for "help", manipulating him with the promise of sex.

05. Wolfmother - Woman

She's a woman, you know what i mean,
You better listen, listen to me yeah
She's gonna set you free yeah yeah yeah

Katrina's dangerous but alluring presence to the men of Golden Grove.

DOWNLOAD ZIP inc, songs and artwork.

Tue, 24 Jul 2007 04:38:07 GMT

[mood| gloomy]
[music| Michael Jackson - Beat It]

Title: Erase
Author:tradegy_solace
Part: 8/?
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Lilly/Logan/Veronica/Weevil
Word Count: 1,160
Summery: The POV's of Logan, Veronica, Weevil and Lilly.
Spoilers: Up until 2x19, this is AU
Warnings: Underage substance abuse, Language, Abuse

A/N: Yes I realize I haven't updated this one in awhile. I'm going to try and finish it.

Previous Parts
Part Seven: F*ck You
Part Six: Scar You
Part Five: Use You
Part Four: Taste You
Part Three: Find You
Part Two: Dream You
Part One: Need You

PART EIGHT: BREAK YOU

When Logan Echolls woke his neck was at a painful forty-five degree angle and inherently stiff. His arms and legs were cramped and he was feeling very uncomfortable right at that very moment.

Granted, that would be because he was asleep on a couch. What a stupid idea. Falling asleep on a couch that was half his size. Very slowly, as to cause minimal amounts of pain to his being, he began to unfurl himself.

Weevil’s not on the chair that Logan had last seen him sitting on. There’s a piece of paper, a scrawled note stuck on the chair. Logan can faintly make out the unfamiliar handwriting through his blearily eyes, “She came, she left.” Logan’s heart sank a little then continued, curiously so, when he realised that this also meant that Weevils had left as well.

He was alone, again. Naturally.

The penthouse is clean. Only the vodka bottle Veronica had brandished sat in the middle of the floor. For some reason Logan just couldn’t throw it away. Like he always said, the pain would always be gone after a bottle of alcohol… or two. Numbness was always preferable to pain. He swallows thickly. This would be the first day in a long time that he had been completely and utterly sober. With not a single minuscule drop of booze in his system.

He clenched his teeth and set his jaw.

He had one shot. A nice little opening, an opportunity. A chance to prove to Veronica Mars that he was wroth a damn. That somewhere deep down, beneath all the bad shit, all the armour that he had acquired, since Lilly, since his dad, since his mom. He was still the kid that had shyly admitted he thought Veronica had been hot in her soccer uniform.

Well, he could try and believe it. Truth was… that kid had never really existed. That kid had had the shit beaten out of him more than once.

Logan absently rubs the scar on the inside of his left palm. It was the oldest one he knew of. Faded now, hardly noticeable. He’d been four and had kicked another kid in the shins as his mom had picked him up from a play date. The paparazzi had been following her and had gotten a golden shot of that “Movie Stars Out-Of-Control Son”; the “Pint-Sized Bully”; being told he’d been “watching too many of Daddy’s movies”. Aaron had been so furious with the bad publicity that he’d burnt Logan’s small, cubby, four-year-old palm with a cigar.

Logan remembered bright white lights, screaming and blinding pain.

It was his favourite scar.

*****

Eli Navarro was at the beach again. Sitting on the soft, hot, sand. His spot in the sand was only a small distance from that spot where Echolls had smashed Veronica’s headlights in with a tyre iron. Only a little way away from where Eli, himself, had smashed his fist into Echolls handsome 09er face.

A small electric shock runs through Eli. How he had hated the famous movie stars son then. How much he had despised him and everything that he stood for. For his connection to Lilly. For his supposed superiority. His special treatment. His taunting of Veronica. The same Veronica who had once been his friend. One of the awesome foursome. His girlfriends best friend. Yet they had all treated her like dirt.

Eli still remembers how fucken good it had felt to finally punch that asshole with everything he had. Who would have thought now that Eli took solace and refuge with the oh niner. Let alone start to consider the guy an allay… or even a friend. The guy had issues, for sure, who wouldn’t with Aaron Echolls as a father (murdering bastard) and a vacant mother who would rather throw herself off a bridge than face the truth. Eli had gathered that much just from hearing people talk. Anyone with that sort of home life would have issues.

Eli can’t help himself. The more he thinks of Echolls, the more that swims into his brain… the dream that invaded his head the other night returns in technicolour. By now it had spawned over twenty different variations, twenty little scenarios that really should have been disturbing but really weren’t. Most of these little fantasies had resulted in Echolls joining Veronica and him on the bed. Eli closed his eyes against the harsh sunlight, desperately thinking of Thumper naked to try and combat the images of a svelte, petite blonde and a lean doe-eyed oh niner. Oh fuck… he was back to where he began.

“Hey.”

Eli nearly bursts out of his sun drenched skin. She’s standing before him with an unsure little smile on her face and backup tugging at his leash.

“Hey.”

She moves nervously. “I’m sorry about last night.”

He knows this. Veronica is trying to make things stay exactly the same. She can’t deal with changes in her personal life too well. She’s made that clear over the past few months. As soon as he gets a little closer she shoves him away.

He stands up and brushes himself down. “V, I don’t need to put up with any of your commitment problems. You had the choice.”

“That wasn’t much a choice Weeves!” Veronica spat. “I’m not going to choose you over Logan or Logan over you so both of you can just forget it!” Her eyes go wide then and she slaps her hand over her mouth.

*****

Veronica Mars cannot believe she just said that. Openly admitting that she was thinking about choosing between them. Just. Like. Lilly.

Weevil looks a bit taken aback. And then he smirks nastily at her.

“Why not just keep the both of us going? Lilly did and worked perfectly fine for her.”

He’s out of sight before Veronica even recovers enough to realize he isn’t there.

“I am such an idiot!” Veronica accidentally says out loud.

Back Up barks and pulls hard on his leash almost making Veronica stumble. She supposes she’ll have to talk to them sooner or latter. Perhaps just left Weevil cool off. He couldn’t possibly seriously think that she would do that to him.

Yet somehow Veronica doubted her resolve.

*****

Lilly Kane is smiling like the cat who got the cream.

Well she wasn’t until about three seconds ago when she realized where Weevil was heading. Right now he was walking through the entrance of the Neptune Grand and boy is Lilly happy.

If she was alive she would be squealing and dancing around, not that she ever did that to begin with. She totally knew what Logan was doing right now and oh man was Weevil going to be surprised and hundred bucks said he also be a little interested.

And Lilly knew that Logan would be just a little bit happy about it.

God, she loved being dead. It was so AWESOME watching people.

Wed, 20 Jun 2007 09:29:42 GMT

[mood| pessimistic]
[music| Rasputina - Saline, The Salt Lake Queen]

I have returned from ANOTHER HIATUS!! And I bring goodies.

47 Icons, 3 FO banners and a Header
[01] The O.C.
[17] Thirteen
[04] Trashy Life/Audrey Kitching
[01] The Virgin Suicides
[01] Veronica Mars
[01] Gothic Themed
[15] Marie Antoinette
[07] Nikki Reed/Cherry Crush
[02] Audrey Kitching FO Banners
[01] Nikki Reed/Thirteen FO Banner
[01] Thirteen Header

Preveiws;
01. 02. 03.

THE OC

01.

THIRTEEN

02. 03. 04. 05. 06.

07. 08. 09. 10. 11.

12. 13. 14. 15. 16.

17. 18.

TRASHY LIFE/AUDREY KITCHING

19. 20. 21. 22.

THE VIRGIN SUICIDES

23.

VERONICA MARS

24.

GOTHIC

25.

MARIE ANTIONETTE

26. 27. 28. 29. 30.

31. 32. 33. 34. 35.

36. 37. 38. 39. 40.

NIKKI REED/CHERRY CRUSH

41. 42. 43. 44. 45.

46. 47.

FRIENDS ONLY BANNERS

***
***

***
***

HEADER

Sun, 08 Apr 2007 12:40:40 GMT

[mood| energetic]
[music|Fredo Viola - Sad Song]

54 ICONS
[15] Peaches Geldof
[04] Milo Ventimeglia
[22] Hex
[13] Alexis Bledel
Preveiws;
01.02.03.

Peaches Geldof
01.02.03.04.05.
06.07.08.09.10.
11.12.13.14.15.

Milo Ventimeglia
16.17.18.19.

Hex
20.21.22.23.24.
25.26.27.28.29.
30.31.32.33.34.
35.36.37.38.39.
40.41.

Alexis Bledel
42.43.44.45.46.
47.48.49.50.51.
52.53.54.

All the usual rules apply. Please don't alter blank icons, credit your maker and commenting is loooove

Sat, 24 Mar 2007 06:30:59 GMT

[mood| gloomy]
[music| Ashtar Command - Into Dust]

I HAVE RETURNED!!! TA-DA!!

The reason for my haitus? Well I moved out of home. And it took until now for my computer to be hooked up to the internet (Our other housemates was so I did have access). So here I am. RETURNED!!

& I bring with me. ICONS!!!!

[08] Amanda Seyfried (inc Veronica Mars)
[04] Emily Barclay Centric
[03] Illyria (Angel)
[13] Hex (Season 1)
[05] Marilyn Monroe
[01] Natalie Press + Emily Blunt
[09] Nikki Reed ( Inc The OC)
[03] My Little Pony
[01] AFI (Animated)
[11] The Virgin Suicides

PREVIEWS!!
01. 02. 03.

[AMANDA SEYFRIED]
01.02.03.04.05.
06.07.08.

[EMILY BARLCAY]
09.10.11.12.

[ILLYRIA]
13.14.15.

[HEX]
16.17.18.19.20.
21.22.23.24.25.
26.27.28.

[MARILYN MONROE]
29.30.31.32.33.

[NATALIE PRESS + EMILY BLUNT]
34.

[NIKKI REED]
35.36.37.38.39.4
40.41.42.43.

[MY LITTLE PONY]
44.45.46.

[AFI]
47.

[THE VIRGIN SUICIDES]
48.49.50.51.52.
53.54.55.56.57.

Credit please. Comment as well if you like, cos that would be awesome. And please don't adjust the bases.

Sat, 27 Jan 2007 05:57:22 GMT

[mood| exanimate]
[music| Tegan And Sara - Don't Confess]

Never mind the bollocks here's some ICONS!!

[10] Camilla Belle
[10] My Summer Of Love/Cast
[06] Nikki Reed Themed (1 Thirteen)
[20] Dark Angel "Pollo Loco"
[09] Dark Angel "Two"

Preveiws;
01.02.03.

[10] Camilla Belle
01.02.03.04.05.
06.07.08.09.10.

[10] My Summer Of Love/Cast
11.12.13.14.15.
16.17.18.19.20.

[06] Nikki Reed Themed (inc 1 Thirteen)
21.22.23.24.25.
26.

[20] Dark Angel "Pollo Loco"
27.28.29.30.31.
32.33.34.35.36.
37.38.39.40.41.
42.43.44.45.46.

[09] Dark Angel "Two"
47.48.49.50.51.
52.53.53.54.

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 00:40:37 GMT

[mood| hot]
[music| The Cardigans - Erase And Rewind]

TUTORIAL NUMBER TWO Feat; Camilla Belle!
Done in PS CS, use of Selective colour, not translatable.

We will be going from this: to this:

First crop your icon and duplicate the base. Set to screen at 75% opacity (This step really depends on how light your icon was to begin with.)

Then create a new layer and fill with a dusky pink. I used, #F7B1C3 and set to soft light

Now add a new adjustment layer, selective colours and apply the following settings

reds; c -100, m 100, y 100
yellows; c 100, m 0, y -100
magentas; c 100, m 0, y -100
Neutrals; c 100, m 0, y 0

And there you go!

Others icons made with this tut;

Sun, 17 Dec 2006 08:22:06 GMT

[mood| enthralled]
[music| My Chemical Romance - Teenagers]

ICONS!!! ICONS!! ICONS!!! MUST GO!!

[15] Dark Angel ("2x02 Bag 'Em")
[10] Veronica Mars
[15] The O.C. (Ryan/Taylor)

PREVIEWS;
01.02.03.

The O.C.
01.02.03.04.05.

06.07.08.09.10.

11.12.13.14.15.

Veronica Mars
16.17.18.19.20.

21.22.23.24.25.

Dark Angel
26.27.28.29.30.

31.32.33.34.35.

36.37.38.39.40.

Tue, 28 Nov 2006 11:26:29 GMT

[mood| uncomfortable]
[music| Josh Pyke – Memories And Dust]

Title: LILLIAN LIES
Author: tradegy_solace
Characters/Pairing: Lilly, ensemble... mention of Dean Winchester
Rating: R (for language and sexual situations)
Summery: Lilly is gone. In more ways than one.
Spoilers: Season 1 and 2
Word Count: 1, 656
A/N: Seriously AU, I don’t normally do crossovers. In fact… I’m not quite sure how Dean Winchester muscled his way into this fic. He was just suddenly there. Purely inspired by constant listening to “Lillian Lies” by Youth Group.

Lillian lies to avoid awkward questions
Looks to the sky for intervention
But she can't avoid judgmental compassion
In the void

She remembers the day she first witnessed Aaron belting Logan. Literally. The door to Aaron’s study wasn’t quite closed. She remembers that day quite clearly. She didn’t think… She never thought…

She couldn’t think.

Everybody knows how much Lilly Kane loved danger. And exactly how much danger loves Lilly.

How they would have laughed at her now. Living out of a duffle bag. Struggling most nights to find somewhere to sleep. Buses, trains, everywhere and anywhere. Just to get away. Just to get away.

She puts on her face, makes it a brave one
Gets herself a seat on an interstate greyhound
When everything's gone at least you've got nothing
That holds on

When she was desperate she took her turn at tricks. At first it was exciting. The seduction, the looks, the money for sex. Men desperate for her. Wanting her. It wasn’t until she realized none of these men wanted her. She wasn’t special to them. They just wanted the sex and someone willing enough to give it up.

That’s exactly what she had been to Aaron. A little flight of fancy. A little bit of danger. A pretty face and a willing pussy.

She’s discovered a use to alcohol of that besides to piss off her parents. To forget. To forget the innocent bewilderment of Veronica Mars, that last night…

~*~

“Hide them Veronica. Hide them.”

“Lilly what’s going on? What’s happening? Where are you going?”

“Veronica listen to me.” Lilly grasps those shoulders. “Veronica… hide the tapes. Make sure no one can find them. I’m in some trouble. Big trouble. Squeal like a pig and run away kind of trouble. Hide them, and forget about them. I’ll come back. I promise.”

She pulls her tightly against herself. Feeling the last warmth of their friendship. “Never forget me, Veronica Mars.”

~*~

“… buy you a drink?”

He’s exactly the type you’d expect in this small country town bar. He’s grubby, tattered around the edges… and usually devilishly handsome. Short blonde hair, sparkling eyes… a devil may car attitude. Oh she liked him… she definitely likes him.

“Sure,” Lilly flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder and smiles seductively, “why not?”

He sits down beside her, motioning for the bartender. “A vodka sunrise for the pretty blonde.”

“My favorite.” Lilly murmurs. He winks at her.

“So… what’s your name, Beautiful? Or should I just stick to calling you that?”

Lilly inwardly sighs. She knows this. This she can handle. Flirting is second nature. Escaping a psychotic b-grade actor cross-country is not something she can deal with. But this… this is familiar.

“Lilly.”

He holds out his hand. “Dean.”

And they shake.

“Where are you from Lilly?”

She shrugs and continues to smile secretively, “Around. What about you… Dean?”

“Here and there.”

She curls herself up, rests her head on the window
Sees her face in the trees suspended in limbo
When everything's gone at least you've got nothing
That holds on

She smiled to herself. Had she stumbled onto the very incantation of herself? He had the look of someone who didn’t stay in one place to long. And something as so devastating to suggest that he had, had a brush with death… a sleepy sort of chill that was hidden underneath the charm. His eyes were the eyes that stared out from whatever dirty mirror she saw herself in. Eyes that had seen too much and had grown old before their time.

She finds herself laughing at his jokes, intrigued by his stories. She finds herself edging closer and closer to something that she hadn’t been close to in a long time.

“Want to get out of here?” She suggests.

He’s all too eager to comply.

He’s staying in the seediest motel in town. It’s almost as seedy as the bus station she planned on sleeping at. He’s gentle. She hate’s gentle. She let’s her teeth sink into his shoulder as she rips off his shirt… the buttons tearing away from the material and bouncing around the room.

He’s surprised by that, but doesn’t play china doll with her anymore. And Lilly loves it more than anything Aaron fucken Echolls gave her. More than anything she can remember. But life in Neptune to her was almost a dream now. Shed can’t even remember the last time she had sex for the sake of having sex.

She’s surprised when she wakes up alone, the stained and worn sheets wrapped around her lithe body. Was she dumb enough to think he would stay? She doesn’t want to admit it but there’s a little voice in her head that tells her she is.

You’re a stranger in a country town
The kids all stare, the cars slow down
You didn't think you'd be so dumb
To just grab a hold of whatever came along

She has a long shower before she dresses. Grabbing some of the mini bottles of alcohol in the bar fridge. Swiping some chips and chocolate as well. She snicks out of the room and away from the motel before anyone sees her, but sashays her way down the streets to the station.

Wolf whistles and stares follow her as usual. She winks at them or blows them a kiss but never slows down enough for them to talk to her. All they see is a hot blonde with porcelain skin and a tight green summer dress on walking with seduction and confidence down a dirty street. They won’t remember her. They won’t whisper her name to the night sky. They won’t ever see her for what she truly is.

If she looks closely her name now all she sees is the lie. Lilly Kane was a lie.

She buys her next ticket to another no name town. Another hopeless place exactly like the last. She doesn’t believe in her own fabulousness now. Her bus doesn’t leave for another hour. She waits but she’s bored so she decides to check her email at the internet café. It’s the first time she does so since she left Neptune.

Logan sent her articles from the local paper. “Sheriff Mars Sacked. Unable to find billionaire Heiress, Lilly Kane.” And “Aaron Echolls Makes It Personal. He will do whatever he can to find missing Heiress.”

Typical of Aaron, she thinks angrily. Makes all about him. Before she knows it. It’s time for her to leave. Boarding the bus she wishes she was going home. Home to Veronica Mars and Logan… home even to Donut, her dad… and maybe even Celeste. She misses Dick Casablancas and snotty Madison Sinclair. She misses Pirate Pride, even those bad pep squad uniforms, and sometimes Weevil.

You’re a stranger in a country town
The kids all stare, the cars slow down
You didn't think you'd be so dumb
To just grab a hold of whatever came along

Almost two years later she’s standing in a cemetery over looking the ocean. She’d forgotten how the sea breeze felt and tasted. Her long black hair is trailing out behind her. She’s not Lilly Kane now… barely a flower… much older than she appears; only her eyes give her away.

“Ahhhh Veronica Mars… you die and so the secret dies with you.”

It’s painful standing by her best friends’ grave, knowing that Veronica died in a bus crash. Knowing that she hadn’t been there. That she should have been. That Lilly Kane would have been on that stupid field trip and she would have joined Veronica Mars in a watery grave.

She doesn’t realize she’s being approached till it’s too late. She hears the rustle of a bouquet of flowers being placed tenderly on the grave. She remains facing the ocean, praying silently that this person, and dear God, let it not be a bereaved Keith Mars, would pay their respects silently and leave.

She’d never been lucky these last two years.

“Who are you?” The voice is rough and the syllables are laced with sorrow, but the tone is demanding. It sends shivers down her spine. And flashes of a life long lost.

She doesn’t reply.

A hand grips her above the elbow and yanks her around, she spins wildly yet within she’s the calm of the storm. She pairs the grip, the feel of the hands against her skin, to the tone and knows.

“Lilly?”

He’s wide-eyed. Shocked. A lot for a boy, or maybe a man now, who had seen too much in his short life. She’d read about his mother jumping from the bridge. About his trail for the murder of Felix Tombs. About the PHCers and the 09er’s war. About the arrest of Aaron Echolls on the charge of assault of a minor. Poor, poor Logan. All alone. Her parents had moved to the Naper house, taking Donut with them. He had no one left.

“Lilly?”

Had he so instantly forgotten the unforgettable Lilly Kane? Well, she had.

She tries vainly to muster up some of the old Lilly Kane charm, but there wasn’t much there.

“Forgotten me already, lover?” Inwardly she cringes, the words are empty and weak.

“Where have you been?” His stare is accusing. She knows exactly what he’s thinking. It’s exactly what she’s been thinking; Where the hell have you been Lilly Kane? We NEEDED you. Veronica needed you.

She looks away. Lilies… lilies on the grave, he had brought lilies. Jesus Christ. Tears are falling and she can’t remember the last time she cried.

She pulls away. She’s shaking violently and feels sick with something that’s been suppressed for far too long. She’s lost. She’s lost everything.

“Lilly… you lied.” She hears him say. She swallows painfully then nods. Her soft reply, “I know.” Lost on the wind forever.

Houses slip by, the clouds are so low
The sky doesn't cover, it swallows

Fri, 24 Nov 2006 08:41:10 GMT

[mood| apathetic]
[music| Youth Group - Lillian Lies]

Icons!!!!
[10] Davey Havok (AFI)
[25] Lilly Kane (Veronica Mars)
[10] Nikki Reed (The OC)

Preview;
01.02.03.

NIKKI REED
01.02.03.04.05.

06.07.08.09.10.

LILLY KANE
11.12.13.14.15.

16.17.18.19.20.

21.22.23.24.25.

26.27.28.29.30.

31.32.33.34.35.

DAVEY HAVOK
36.37.38.39.40.

41.42.43.44.45.

- All the normal stuff applies. Hope you like :D!!

Thu, 23 Nov 2006 04:23:20 GMT

[mood| thirsty]
[music| AFI - Days of the Phoenix]

Title: Through Glass
Author: tradegy_solace
Pairing/Character: Mac/Dick
Word Count: 735
Rating: R (Language, innuendo, low level sex scene)
Summary: One-way left to go.
Spoilers & Warnings: If you've seen the first and second seasons. You're good.
Author's Notes: A company piece to my story Porcelain and Sand, which can be found HERE

i. She’s standing in the kitchenette. The kettle boiling behind her when he enters the hotel room. Even though she’s had a lot of sex with this guy she still feels unbelievably conscious of her naked form beneath the towel loosely wrapped around her. She still feels uncomfortable when his eyes, blue as they are, stare at her. That stare still brings a warm flush to her skin. Still makes her hum with anticipation.

Her hair is still wet, hanging in lank chunks around her face, rivulets of water seeping down her back and over her shoulders. He casually throws an envelope on the small kitchenette bench, walking around the corner with a predatory smirk.

“Have I told you how hot you are when you’re wet?”

She tries not to giggle at the absurd sentence yet it’s so typical of him that you would think that after four weeks she would have become familiar to him and his odd take of the English language. He’s clearly aroused and not bothering to hide it when he pulls her tightly against him. He seduces her, not that he needs to, but does so with firm calloused hands stroking her cheeks, with hard demanding kisses and insistent hips. She’s never been able to say no. Not once in four months.

And he’s insatiable.

In four weeks she swears they’ve completed or attempted every position in the Kama Sultra. He pulls her back to the bedroom, shedding the cheap hotel room towel along the way. It’s a blurred sequence of events that lands him naked and beneath her. Her hair is still soaking, dripping over his tanned body. It was erotic, seeing the water glisten on his skin.

After four weeks she was still surprised at the contrast between their skins. Herself so pale and dark, him so tanned and golden. In the mirror glued to the sliding wardrobe door, they reflected like ying and yang. His hands on her hips brought her back from her reverie, he was rocking his hips into his and she still couldn’t believe how unbelievably good it felt.

She pointedly ignores the look of awe in his eyes. She’s nothing special and she’s still wondering why she’s still in this dingy hotel room. Still with him.

She always cums. And when they’re too exhausted to continue they curl around each other, the sheets, blankets and pillows… and drift off together into the land of sleep.

ii. She wakes as the suns last rays linger on the ocean. He’s wrapped around the doona, his back to her. She slides off the bed gently taking that sheet with her. In the movies they never stumble but she did. She flushes furiously, grateful that no one was there to witness it. She gathers the sheets higher and tighter around herself.

The pristine crisp white envelope lay innocently on the bench. She knew exactly what was within them the moment he walked into the room. She turns the envelope over and reaches in and pulls out two stiff pieces of paper.

She glances up and it’s her reflection staring back at her from the kitchenette window. She’s a ghost on its surface, a girl of pale transparent skin, washed out eyes and lips that appeared to have not much life in them at all. Her hair though was an impenetrable black.

She didn’t know who she was anymore. She did know what she wasn’t though. She wasn’t Madison, who flew all the way to Australia to hide and try and forget. But nor was she Mac, left alone wrapped in only a sheet in the Neptune Grand while her boyfriend plunged to his death.

“Why would he do that?”

She shivers at the echo of that night. A bare memory. Almost a dream. But still painfully clear. She pulls the sheet tighter around her body. The shiver spread out over her skin, raising gooseflesh.

She looks down at the paper in her hand. Insignificant when she really thinks about it. Insecurities though, never truly put to rest after that night, bubble away insistently in her gut.

She drops the papers carelessly, moving to the couch… staring outside into the washed out black of the sky.

The back of her neck continues to prickle as if someone’s walking over her grave. Two one way, first class airline tickets to California stare heatedly at the back of her skull.