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Post by delilah mari barnes on Apr 18, 2010 20:39:11 GMT -5
Her body twisted and slithered, flexed and rolled, moved in ways that could possibly deem her a stripper or at least an exotic dancer. The music was blasting through the speakers, deep bass towns and slow. It was the kind of music you just had to move your body slowly and that you had to ride to get it just right, which was exactly what she was doing. Granted, the song was a bit on the naughty side, but she was so sick of all the other kind of music she had been listening to lately...Plus, this was her way of getting out any sexual tension in her muscles and bones. Angry sexual tension. She refused to speak to Dresdan ever since the 'incident' and instead opted for ignoring him and skipping class for the past week and simply telling her professor she planned on switching out because she 'couldn't handle the work load and needed to keep her perfect grade point average'. Truth? If she saw Dresdan she would react in one of two ways: Anger or she would get ridiculously shy. She didn't want either to happen. There were enough rumors spreading that he molested her so she might as well attempt not to confirm them.
As Bed by Trey Songz played (some American music she discovered while in New York City), she moved her hips, rolling them in sync with the music and closing her eyes as she danced on in the dance hall. She wore some very tiny black spankies that clung to her frame and then a matching sports bra with some dance flats since sneakers tended to make it too complicated. Beads of sweat rolled down from her golden skin as she moved, letting the music take her over. It was what? Ten pm on a Friday night. No one was at school or at the dorms and she didn't feel like going to any parties or studying so this was the next best thing. She continued on, twisting and dancing. It seemed like she would go on until her body gave out, easily doing splits and movements that a human pretzel could do with her flexibility, hip rolling, pouring her heart, body, mind, and soul all out on her movements.
She had to get it all out of her mind. The images, the fantasies, his face, his touch, his voice, everything. Maybe she should transfer to some boarding school in New York City and get away from Milan. She thought it would be easy pretending to be someone she wasn't but it didn't seem to be working. She fooled everyone but a tiny handful and she was seriously desperate to win them over...minus Dresdan. She just wanted to be out of his life for good because he was right. She did ruin everything. She ruined the fragile relationship the two of them had, ruined a lot of her friendships by leaving to New York City and coming back changed, ruined her parents' expectations of her...But as she moved with the music, she hadn't noticed someone had snuck in and was watching her until the song slowed so it started to fade and her movements slowed, her chest moving up and down with her deep breathing. Grabbing the long golden bar that was against the one wall full of mirrors, she steadied herself, letting her forehead touch it's cold surface as she tried to catch her breathe, her hair like a curtain around her face.
When she felt someone's gaze on her in the silence, she finally looked up, cloudy and stormy hazel emerald eyes looking through the mirror at the person as she breathed in and out heavily. Her jaw locked and she turned away from them, heading for the stereo and unplugging her IPod from it so the music was cut off completely. Tossing it in her bag, she picked up the tiny duffle with the school's emblem on it and started in his direction since the locker room was that way and she would love to take a hot shower so she could eventually go back to her dorm since her concentration was basically shattered. Delilah didn't say a word to Dresdan as she stopped in front of him, about a ruler's length away, waiting for him to move out of her way. She wasn't going to ask him to nor was she going to look him directly in the eyes. He needed to get out of her way...She didn't want anything to do with him anymore.
-tagged: dresdan-
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Post by dresdan marc barnes on Apr 18, 2010 23:22:21 GMT -5
He knew he'd find her here. Of course, only Delilah would be dancing around a private studio, when your typical teenager would be out there getting raging drunk and cheering as Bellamy conquered another female on the dancefloor. Yes, that's what your normal Santa Croc teenage would be doing, but not Delilah; not ever. She could play her little role, act as if she had changed magically during her time through New York, but repetively had Dresdan got glimpses to her old self, and this was one of them. This tiny reassurance that she had not truly changed, even if their situation had. Yes.. the 'situation', and no, he did not mean the guy from Jersey Shore. But rather the incident that had him with his sister's face in his lap, sprawled beneath a tree and feeling as if he had somehow been shot up into heaven. Yes, that incident, the one that had rumors circulating the school in a blurr of contempt and wonderment of his peers. He denied the stories easily, waving them away with that characteristic smile and cockiness that kept the world at bay, that kept him on his little pedestal despite all his rotten behaviors. The current ones, at least, because getting a blowjob from your twin sister was definitely rotten.
So why was he here? Of all people to see, why had he hunted Delilah down? He'd hardly seen her since that fateful day, had notced her absence in classes but refused to truly acknowledge it, had forcefully pushed her from his mind and focused on other things. Hell, he would fucking study if it meant he didn't have to think about Delilah's tight body, pressed so close into his own there was not even a breath to part them. And though he could shake the images, the fantasies, he could not shake the senstaions of guilt that choked him and rose a vicious bile in this throat whenever he recalled her expression; the look of hurt, betrayal, and finally, blankness that had taken over her quaint features, altering them in a way that was heartbreaking. He had used her, then quickly disposed of her in a manner in which he hadn't even subjected any of his girlfriends; they, at least, were given a gentle speech and kind words from thereafter. But Delilah? No, he had thrown her to the side, had even scolded her for behavior that he had encouraged only seconds before. The entire thing was his fault, and now he was finally accepting it, was finally ready to make amends.
So here he was, standing in the stuffy stuido and watching, hypnotized, as his sister gyrated and grinded to a beat that he himself could only faintly detect; her body twisting and winding as if taken over by something beyond this world, by some grace and artistry that one could only dream of, and here he was witnessing it in the most beautiful form. Again, he had to question why it was Delilah. Why could he not stumble in on anyone else -- even that stupid Montague dyke -- dancing? Why did it have to be her, as if he didn't have enough to agonize over already; this new addition another wound to attempt to ignore, only to give into during the wee hours of the night, soaking him in guilt and shame and a pleasure that made him despise himself.
Watching her, mesmerized, it was jarring to be shaken back to the cold reality of who they were now, of the awkwardness of their once beautiful and effortless friendship. Things had once been as easy as breathing when it came to the two of them, able to spend endless hours in one another's presence without the slightest hitch; only the rare and occasional sibling squbble. And now here they were, ruined not beacuse of squabbling, but because they couldn't hate eachother in that manner, for they loved eachother in a much more serious one. At least, he did. Regretfully and deeply, he loved her beyond the reasoning of what was acceptable among family, and though he tried to stomp on it, it greedily rose from the grave the second his eyes met her and he felt his heart thunk into the deepest regions of his insides. Cursing silently, he swiflty averted his gaze, grunting nervously and watching from the corner of an intensely aquamarine eye as she jerked her ipod from the dock and headed towards him, face blank with a scary hostility. She paused only inches from him, standing there, stiff, waiting for him to do something, anything, though most likely all she wished for was him to step aside. To leave her alone. It was a wish that she should by every right have, but as he realized it, another sting of shame and discord struck him. He had ruined them. "Del.." the word escaped, huskily quiet with his distress. Jerking his fingers through his golden mop, Dresdan shook his head unhappily, reaching towards her briefly before allowing his hand to drop limply. No, it wouldn't be okay to touch her. Not now, probably not ever. "Look.. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry about everything that happened, I really am." He sighed, allowing his weight to briefly press against the doorframe he was blocking. Looking her in the eye, he surpressed the heavy, heady desire to jerk her towards him once more, to cover her in kisses and this time release her frustrations rather than his own, by any means necessary. Looking away to distract himself from this new, abberant thought, the words escaped in a sigh, one that held too much affection; "I miss you."
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Post by delilah mari barnes on Apr 19, 2010 11:57:03 GMT -5
Delilah kept the same blank expression on her face as she listened and let his words get absorbed into her brain. Deep down she wanted to tell him she forgave him and that it was okay so everything could go back to normal. In a way she had already forgiven him for basically turning her into a tool, but the logical part of her brain was telling her she should just yell at him; not just for that but for everything. How he was the obvious favorite, how he just got by so easily, and how the fuck he could use her like that...like she was just going to become another notch on his bed. Maybe then it would keep him away and she could leave the school, study somewhere else, graduate, and just stay away from him and their parents because she really was sick of being a tool. She was tired of people walking all over her and maybe, subconsciously that was why she originally disappeared for the summer. She wanted to live a life that was her own and no one else's. See what it was like to be on her own, to live for herself, to please only herself, to have no expectations except her own...and she loved it. It was like a natural high she couldn't get rid of and she was a bit desperate to get that high again...
"Well," her voice was the same as it was before, a bit monotonous as it usually was during confrontations because she was terrified of such ordeals, "I don't miss you," she was lying out of her ass again, playing a bit with the strap on her duffel bag, "and that's great that you're sorry. Good for you," if he wasn't going to move, Delilah forced herself passed him through the doorway and headed toward the locker room, stopping right before she entered and turning around to finally lock her eyes onto his, "It's just so easy for you," she locked her jaw. Frustration. She was just so frustrated and she had no way of getting out such frustration that she ended up looking like a little girl ranting for not getting her doll everything she did somewhat let out some steam instead of just being a pretty little bobble head or blow up doll, "Mum and Dad adore you and you don't even have to work for it. All you have to do is sit there and they'll praise you. I work my ass off just to get a perfect G.P.A and all they do is hound at me for not tutoring you," she brought her free hand up and slightly covered her eyes with them, a look of slight discomfort on her face, "I'm sick of just being wall paper," she sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly since she was growing weary from all the dancing and running she did beforehand, "But yeah, I forgive you or whatever. I'm used to it. Thanks for proving that you're exactly like everyone else," her eyes wavered before she turned around and went into the locker room, letting the door slam behind her slender frame.
Home. She would love to go home-wherever that was. When she was younger she never noticed all these little things their parents did to them as if it were to put them against one another or more like for her to envy her brother beyond the point of reasoning. It wasn't until they got older and she discovered alcohol and their stash of anti depressants did she realize how strange their parents really were. Mum was a psychiatrist for Pete's sake. One would think she would treat both fairly equally but no, she didn't. Nor did their father, the lawyer, who believed in all goodness, fairness, and justice. She wanted to know why but figured she just never would. So with so many thoughts running through her mind, she slipped off her clothes, grabbed a towel, and turned on one of the showers, letting her head gently hit the wall to the hot water ran down her back facing the opening. She put her arms on her neck and she could feel the lump rising in her throat. Home and family. It felt like she didn't have one. Dresdan couldn't be considered her brother after what happened...Because she'd always want him as more than that.
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