Sev Goes To Prom (Remastered)

Title says it all! Its sev, redone!
Writing for Sev. Dannoh403 
Writing for Skye. Katniss&PrimSisterhood
==Sev and Skye's Soundtrack.==
(Skye)
- The Only Exception, Paramore. -
"I've always lived like this, 
keeping a comfortable distance.
Up until now I have sworn to myself 
that I'm content, with loneliness, 
because none of it was ever worth the risk. 
But you are the only exception."
(Skye) 
-Stay -Rihanna Feat Mikki ekko.
"Funny you're the broken one
But I'm the only one who needed saving."
(Sev) 
A place for us. Mikki ekko.
"Though all the wars I've fought in my mind. 
Your eyes, are the only refuge I find."
(Sev)
Demons. Imagine dragons.
"Don't get to close. 
It's dark inside. 
It's where my demons lie."
(Sev and Skye)
Fix you. Coldplay.
"Your to in love to let it go. 
If you never try you will never know. 
Just what worth. 
I will try. To fix you."
(Skye)
Stay with me. Sam smith.
"Why am I so emotional? 
No it's not a good look gain some self control. 
Deep down I know this never works,
But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt."
(Skye and Sev)
Wasted- MKTO
"Am I crazy to think that I could be in love?
When it all ends up. It all ends up wasted."
(Sev and Skye) 
Not with haste - Mumford and Sons.
"We will run and scream. 
You will dance with me. 
We'll fulfil our dreams and we'll be free. 
We will be who we are.
It will heal our scars, sadness will be far away. 
I will love with urgency, but not with haste"
==Chapter 1: Sev's POV==
I grab my threadbare, rental sport coat and try to press it closer to my body, but a breeze kicks up and slices through the old coat like a knife through butter. Somehow, it's April, and the temperature is about 20 degrees. It probably isn't, on second thought. The people inside the school I'm walking towards were probably nice and warm, because they could afford heated cars, and clothes that actually kept them warm. 
Somehow I made it all the way to "Middle Of Nowhere High School" without catching hypothermia. Even from outside I can hear exceedingly loud music shaking the foundations of the building. More of a nervous habit than anything, I reach up to my face and feel the small piece of fabric covered plastic placed over where my left eye used to be. 
Still in place, good. One time it had slipped a bit, and almost gave some light-hearted freshmen a heart attack. After making sure the eyepatch is situated, I pull my left sleeve down, and slowly manage to bring the prosthetic arm underneath the sleeve move up and push open the door.
I smile a bit, a rare occurrence. The prosthetic arm is  a pain to deal with, but the fact that it can bend at the elbow and I can control it a bit amazes me from time to time. Once I open the door, I trek quietly down the hall towards the gym doors. I gaze distastefully at the meager decorations pointing towards what will most likely be the worst night of my life, and that's saying something. 
As I walk, I question why I even came here tonight. I've always been a socially awkward, but the loss of my left arm and left eye turned me into an absolute outcast. People tried to be nice originally. All the people saying "Oh I understand how you feel". I was almost relieved when it died down and they left me alone. However, after a while, their moods changed. I began to notice whispers in the hallway, snickers behind me in the classrooms. One thing led to another and I was growing out my black hair to cover the patch, and always wore long sleeves, no matter how hot it was outside. I kept my head down in the halls, and moved myself to the back of my classes. 
None of it worked. Apparently, being disabled is a severe taboo in society. People stopped saying "Hey, that's Sev," instead they laughed and said, "There goes Robo."
So naturally, I go to senior prom. I couldn't get a date, for obvious reasons. I didn't take any photos before I left, for even more obvious reasons. I shake my head. Don't do this now, I think to myself. 
The door to the gym looms in front of me like a tidal wave. A sickening sense of foreboding settles in my gut as if I swallowed an elephant. I reach out and place my flesh and bone hand on the cold metal handle. The music reverbates in my eardrums. 
Like any high school student, I'd had Romeo & Juliet crammed into my memory in freshman year. For some reason, I find myself muttering one of Romeo's lines: 
"He that hath the steerage of my course doth direct my sail."
I open the door and walk into the gym. 
==Chapter 2: Skye==
The brisk air cuts right though my face. Its funny what cold does to a nervous system. At first its just an odd uncomfort, but stay in the condition long enough. It seeps into your skin like a toxin, numbing every nerve in its path, making a bee line for your blood. Like an impenetrable army seeking the king. Luckily however, i bought my own army. I swig the golden brown bottle and feel a rush though my bones. My personal army fights the cold, and feeds heat though my blood. It ignites my bones and makes me feel powerful, limitless. I guess it was obvious i had a force beyond my mental thinking.
I would never have went to one of these things, sober. Anyways.
The gym is lit up from the outside, and the sound of pumping music faintly fills my ears. I roll my eyes, and throw the near empty bottle in the bush next to me. It makes a clashing sound  as it hits the bottles I threw in there previous. I straighten my self up, and flatten my already near perfect dress. And cough at the cold affecting my throat as I tie a loose bit of hair into a pin. Well then, let's do this.
The gymnasium has the same boring colours as it always does, just a few green and blue streamers layering the roof.
I pump my fist in my air as i utter "Yay for school sprit." Some girls next to me snicker, and I snarl at them. Plastics.
I walk firmly to the stands, with the intention of nothing else but to pull out my iPhone and play Flappy Bird for about three hours. As i'm walking, a few boys wolf whistle and people part ways for me.
That's right. Admire from a far. 
I pass... Ehh, what's his name. I feel my thought process slowed dramatically.
"Hello mate." I say, giving up on finding his name much too quickly. It will come. Wait wait, why am I talking to this idiot? Damn you alcohol.
"Ahh, funny." He says, sipping punch, and turning my way. His body a solid brick, god he's ripped. But, he's a jerk, so. Takes away his hotness factor.
"What?" I say crinkling my nose.
"Mate, pirate." He points at his eye patch. "Funny." My mind wonders for a few minutes until I click. Wait, he thought I was making fun of his eye patch? Ha, out of all the things mess with him about, the try hard sly side smirk that makes him look like a drug dealer, his pathetic attempts to annoy me, overall idiocy, The fact that he's  male... the eye patch would be the last on my list. The eye patch only adds to his sexy front. Again, he's a jerk. Totally not worth the time. I only bring relativity good people home with me. Plus, who knows how many chicks he's been with; he's attractive, plus he's got the whole "I'm sexy and mysterious " thing going on that all the Tumblr girls fall to their feel for. 
He walks around here like he owns the bloody school.
"Wow, lookie here, Mr. Sensitive. Wasn't even talking about the patch." I say, swiping his punch and drinking it. He snarls at me.
"What do you think your doing?"
I only laugh- I tend to be comfortable around people who hate me, I know where they stand. Plus, there's the added bonus of not having to impress.
Sev moved into this school a few weeks ago; on first impression, I already hated him. He immediately assumed the cliché roll of "devilishly handsome punk that plays by no body's rules." I respect it, sure, but it gets boring after a while. Naturally, I have made it my own mission to crack him.
In one swift move he snatches back the drink, and looks me dead in the eye.
"What? Daddy didn't buy you enough that you had to drink my punch too?" He casually looks away and wipes the lip of the cup that I drank from. His eye brows furrow in disgust. And mine loosen. I take a step back, and tighten my forehead. A comment, that would usually roll right off me cuts me sharper then the night air. I take a deep breath in, and feel tears welling in my eyes. Sev glances up for a second, his eye catching mine as I look away. His eye gleams with confusion, his faces screams misunderstanding as he cranes his neck towards me. "Why..." I only hear him utter, as his hand gently touches my elbow. The pain turns to a sick anger and I look up at him and rip my arm away.
"You're a jerk." I say with much less wit then I intended. Damn, I feel a tear roll down my face. Sev's face remains the same, utterly confused. I don't give him an opportunity  to make many other faces and I storm off to the bleachers, and grab out my phone.
I wipe at my eyes discreetly, and open the app.
Well, I would like to say that Sev ends up walking up to me, Apologizing, confessing his undying lust for me, and can't contain himself and we make wild love there on the beachers.
But of course, the self-righteous arrogant pig just leaves. Typical.
Chapter 3: Sev's POV
It doesn't take long for me to forget what in the world drove me to come to this forsaken school and waste a few hours of my life in a gym full of my peers. The Aussie chick, Cloudy or whatever the heck her name is, wipes her eyes and taps at her phone. Either she's texting her numerous boyfriends or blogging about how abusive men are. 
I roll my eye and sip the punch absently, but somehow the cup is empty. I look back towards the table with the drinks, only to see some of the football team pouring some powder into the punch that I'm fairly sure isn't sugar.
Getting high isn't exactly my forte, so I toss the cup in the trash can and make my way over the wall. Maybe, just maybe, I can blend in back here, not get noticed, and slip out when people start leaving. If I leave too early, I get caught by some jocks, if I'm here to late, the old janitor sees me and starts yelling about government cyborg spies. 
I really hate people. 
As I cast cursory glances across the faces of the proud senior class, I see Miss Outback has left the bleachers, pouring herself some of the drugged punch. Would that even get a person high?, I wonder to myself, mulling over the idea. The girl sips the punch, and I notice that she's really not hiding her tears very well. Her eyeliner is smudged, and I can see that her eyes are red. Then again, that might just be the punch.
She stalks back to the bleachers and tries to make herself look small, while getting her phone back out again. Odd, I think, She's not the kind of girl who looks like she wouldn't be up flirting with every muscle-brain in here. She's pretty, in the sort of way that would make most guys' eyes pop out of their heads. However, I'm determined to keep the one good eye I've got, so I look around, trying to put my mind to some mundane thought process that would make the time fly. Somehow, I keep wondering why that girl just seemed to break down after one little remark. 
To be perfectly honest with myself, it was a bit of an edgy remark, for some people. I may have lost a good bit of my body in that car crash, but I didn't lose my conscience. I wouldn't make a "dad" remark to anyone but the abundance of privileged girls at this school who didn't know anything but simple pleasure. 
I don't really know what's-her-face at all, maybe I struck some cord and gave her a flashback to a time her dad didn't let her go out past curfew. 
Maybe you should apologize, a voice in my head whispers. 
No, no way in the world. It took me way too long to stop cowering to people, I'm not apologizing to Rich Girl.
But you could've really struck a nerve, it says back.
I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't- I sigh, as if to say "screw you" to the nagging voice of decency in my head. 
"Let's get this over with," I say, and begin making my way across the gym.
== Chapter 4: Skye (It's really like old times, guys) ==
"No. No, and absolutely not." I say still letting my flappy bird flap away. 
The jerk of the century made his way to the bleaches and sat down next to me. I'm guessing he was here to taunt me some more, so I put him down with the previous statement.
The alcohol was still pretty majorly affecting me. My eyes still took longer then usual to move, the muscles in my hands were weaker then usual. And still, my mind has an unmistakable fuzz about it. But I've had quite a lot of practice at this, and knew how to still be a highly functional human despite being over the limit of what my body allows.
"Funny. I thought Auzzies were open minded." He responds, resting his elbows on his knees.
"We are. Just not to you." I say, starting my next game, no longer concentrating on my score. His forehead creases as thought brushes his face.
"Is that a rule among all of you?" I sigh and click the right hand corner of my phone and the screen goes black. I turn to him, and look him dead in the eye.
"Yes actually. When you look up the Australian rule book; Right under the 'always make sure you feed you're kangaroo before riding him to work' rule is 'don't talk to sev' in big bold letters." I stare at him fiercely, and after a few awkward seconds of intense staring, His lips curl upward, and his eyes, almost orange, recognise me.
"Funny." he utters. It's the first time I've seen a look on his face that didn't read, unimpressed, angry, I'm better then you, or like he had 'bugger off' written on his forehead. I snickered and stood, stuffing my phone into the top of my dress so it pushed against my breast. He averts his eyes, and I try not to let a smile play on my lips. The gym is now clearing, there is still a good thirty people making out against a wall or dancing in some hopeful dream that the moment could last forever. But, in about half an hour the room will be cleared out, everyone on there way to the after party.
I was invited of course. Being held at Nikki's house, the most popular girl in our year, I was obligated to an invite. Not that any girls actually like me. See, the way this school works, is if you have money, are remotely pretty, and somewhat intelligent. You're counted as the popular girls. And, although using a colourful array of cuss words, I've told Nikki in no words or fewer to stop talking with me. To salvage her own reputation, she has to invite me, and sit with me in maths class because none of her plastic friends were in that high of a grade. Which of course, I'm so very pleased about.
Truth is, I couldn't care less about her, or the rest of her bimbo posse, and would much rather prefer to go unnoticed here. Which I guess explains Sev's words to me earlier. He assumes because of my position in the school, I'm just like them. He assumes wrong.
"Well, this exchange has been..." I try to find the words, wiping an old tear, from my now dry eyes. 
"Well. It's been." I say turning, about to sip my cup, meaning to walk away but the hand that grips over my elbow startles me, but more importantly stops me. Sev stares at me intensely, and his jaw twitches.
"Look. I came over here to..." His voice trails, and he averts his eyes, staring at the floor, looking rather uncomfortable. Well that's a first. I wait for a few more seconds, as I'm about to rip my arm, he lets it go. And stands, towering over me, but still not matching my gaze. Instead his puts his hands in his pockets. "To tell you not to drink the punch," he says, regaining his cool confidence.
"Why?" I say, with an ignorant attitude.
"I know you don't have a lot of reason to trust me. But, just don't okay?" With that, he leaves. This time for sure, I see him depart the doors With a swift step.
Once he's gone. I put the cup down.
***
I spent the next forty minutes packing up the equipment the pathetic DJ borrowed from me. To be honest, he's a nice guy- one of the few people I can stand in this school. His name is Todd. We occasionally take music together. Were often paired up because we are the only ones in the class that likes to DJ. But, he's no good at it, and he knows it too. But he's one of those people that can stand not being good at something, and somehow still enjoy it. It seems a fool's task to me, a time wasting project worth nothing. Even the teacher that assigned him as DJ knows I'm better then him, but she still chose him because she has something against me. Apparently explaining how you think her teaching could be improved could be seen as talking back. And cussing her out is also 'rude.' Whatever, I don't care. Todd wanted to do it anyways, I couldn't care less. Especially since I have my own gig.
"Thanks again Skye." Told says sincerely packing the microphone in my bag.
"No drama, mate. Not using it at the club tonight so it's no trouble." I reply, taking the bag, giving him a fresh smile. He laughs a bit and I question him.
"Oh it's nothing," he replies. "It's just funny, Australians have this thing where they always tell you what there not. 'How you going?' 'Not bad.' He says. Amusement spreading his face 'what're you up to?' 'Not much'. 'No drama mate'. I scowl at him for a few seconds, and the amusement wipes from his face. Todd's a nice guy, a year younger then me, I see him as a little brother type. And he acts like it.
"Well, that's not wrong." I say, with a chuckle. He then returns a small smile.
"I'll catch you monday yeah?" Todd asks as we leave the school doors into the brisk air.
"Sure thing. Have a good one Todd." I say. He waves goodbye as he strides away. 
I sigh heavily. Well, the night went exactly as I thought it would. Terrible. 
As I turn the corner I notice a figure sitting on the curb. The figure sits leaning back looking at the stars, using his arms as a rest only when I see metallic glistening hand do Finally I recognise him.
"I'm sure we have had more contact tonight than in entire school year."
Sevs head whips to me for a second, his orange eye searching mine. Before looking back to the sky.
"I'm sure your right." He replies.
I walk a little closer, taking the heels I stupidity decided to wear today off, and looping my fingers in the top of them. The floor is freezing in my bear feet, but I much prefer that over the un comfort of height.
"Why are you out here?" I say. My mind flicks back to when he left so mysteriously.
"Why are you?" He deflects "shouldn't you be driving home?" He questions.
"I didn't bring my car." I reply simply. His eyebrows furrow.
"You walked here? In the cold? Why?"
Because I'm over the limit. My mind responds, but instead I just end up saying
"I like the cold."
Lie. My head mocks. He stands with a smirk.
"So you're from the land down under. Home to some of the sunniest beaches in the world, the hottest weather, and the driest plains..." He approaches my personal space, and slips his hands in his pockets. "And you like the cold weather?" His neck cranes as he is so tall he towers over me. The stubble on his chin is ruff, and the eye patch adds to the sex appeal.
"Why are you out here?" I repeat his question, ignoring the one he just gave me.
"Wanted some fresh air before I went back home." He says, his eyes flickering from mine for just a second. But it was enough.
"You see, Sev. I'm not very good with people. I don't know nearly enough about people to be any good at interacting with them, nor do I care. Infact the only subject I'm good at is maths because it's so cold and rational. And humans are not. But if there is one thing I know about people- Call it a super power if you will-" His eyebrows raise in mock interest. "I can always tell when someone is lying." I whisper. His stares at me intently, not ripping his eyes from my gaze for a second before he takes a nervous step back dropping his head.
"And you my friend, are lying." I inform him.
And after a small moment, he looks up at me with a smile. I play on his vulnerability "What I don't get however, is why you felt the need to lie about that. I mean, if your waiting here for a drug deal or a hook up I couldn't care less." His eyes still hang on mine, with a continuing smirk. "And it is clear that you have no need to impress me, and I have no need to have a high opinion of you. So if you are meeting up with trouble, why lie about it?" I say, externally talking though my thoughts. He only takes a second for a small chuckle before he leans in a bit, as if about to tell me a secret.
"You know. Maybe you should get your tingling spidey senses checked." He says. I hold his strong gaze,
"Are they wrong?" I say. He deflects the question yet again with a joke.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up. Maybe it's the weather." He suggests. It's only then he looks away in the direction of the carpark, and tenses his shoulders in cold, do I notice the vent sticking out of the halls side. It's blows out hot air, that once my fingers feel, ignite my bones.
"You don't have anywhere to go warm, do you." My mind clicks. As I think of all the times he has arrived to school always walking. Never anyone picking or dropping him off. I know no one has ever been to his place. He now stands next to the vent that sprays hot air. 
He's homeless.
"What?" The lie was so obvious in his tone I didn't bother pointing it out. I only stood there my arms crossed, my forehead creased. My mind played back every single but of information I knew of him, and all of it made sense now.
"So what. Now I'm the victim? Homeless, armless, eyeless freak." He says, genuine anger flooding his face. People don't get mad, it's not even an emotion. It only ever hides emotion. This time, it's despair. Maybe a bit of embarrassment.
"That's twice you have mentioned your eye tonight" I point out, he only holds his hands in the air.
"It's annoying. Stop doing it." I say simply. He only rolls his eye.
"Walk me home." I say. He looks at me again in pure confusion.
"Are you joking?" He asks. I laugh,
"C'mon. I'm a girl, it's late, and it's cold. At least humour and me and pretend to be a gentlemen. And I'll pretend to be a lady." I say curtsying, As I turn to walk home, a tingle of relief seeps though as I hear his footsteps closing in on mine.
==Chapter 5: Sev's POV==
If it's one thing I don't understand in this world, it's people. Like how the girl without a name can go from trading insults to immediately asking for a ride home. I guess that punch really messed with her head. I sigh,  rolling my eye at the stars in the ever-darkening sky and begin walking after her. I notice a slight hesitation in her steps, and she slows down enough that pretty soon we're walking side by side down the sidewalk. I cough a bit, partly to clear the awkward silence, and partly because my lungs are charred and half useless. 
"So, you're supposed to be a gentleman, why not give me your coat so I don't freeze out here?" she says mockingly. I shiver when I realize that somehow the night has gotten colder. I look down at the sport coat, the threads are popped and there are numerous holes. The last time someone got it fixed up, they were probably wearing it to the Apollo 11 launch. 
"See, I would, but there's not much point," I say, half-joking, "cause it's only half as warm and welcoming as you are."
She shoots an irritated look at me and simply pulls the jacket off my shoulders. I'm surprised when the sleeve doesn't come right off. "Where exactly did you get this?" she asks, glacing over it, expecting the sleeves that are almost half a foot long than her arms. 
"Is that a serious question or are you just screwing with me?" I deadpan, turning my half-gaze skyward, picking out the constellations as I trudge along slowly. "The name escapes me, but if I had to guess, you and I do not shop at the same sort of stores."
Her expression softens slightly, the omnipresent smirk turning down at the corners. Her unrealistically blue eyes clouding over again like a thunderstorm on the ocean. "I uh...suppose not, Sev," she mutters quietly, almost whispering. 
We walk in silence for a while. Evidence of the other students' treks home remain on some of the streets. Beer bottles, small plastic bags with remnants of "dank kush" on the inside, burnt out cigarrettes, and for some reason a bra or two are tossed into the grass. 
"Those guys know how to party, don't they?" she says, kicking an emptied bottle of whiskey out of her path. 
"If a party means getting ridiculously hammered and stumbling around like freaking idiots all night, then yeah, it was a heck of a party," I grumble, turning my nose away from the stench of alcohol and bad decisions. 
I shiver all over and hear my teeth chatter, gosh it's cold. Little miss heated house continues to walk along, looking fairly dumb with the sleeves of "my" jacket hanging down to her knees. "If you hate people so much, why'd you go in the first place?" she inquiries, looking at my face like all the answers are scrawled on my cheek. 
"Says Ms. Social, I don't believe I even saw you set foot off the bleachers the entire time," I say. 
Crap. Should not have said that. It's not exactly a good idea to let it slip to the girl you're walking home, alone, at night, that you spent a certain amount of time watching her throughout prom. I've recieved groin kicks from the girls at school for a lot less than that. I gaze over tentatively, and see that freaking sly, know-it-all, beauty queen smirk plastered over her aussie face. 
"The name's Skye, because you seem not to know," she says, but seems to cut off the rest of what she planned to say. Brilliant. I can tell her eyes are flashing like actual alarms. 
We walk down the next few blocks in silence. 
== Chapter 6: Skye ==
'Well. You made it here with your egotism still clearly intact so give me my jacket and I'll go. This night will just be an unhappy memory." He says shoving his hands in his pockets tightening his shoulders. I walk up the front steps to my door, while he waits at the bottom. I still have the jacket on, not that I really needed it. I just wanted to see if he would give it to me. 
And now, I'll give something to him.
"No." I say. He scrunches his forehead.
"No?" He repeats with a quizzical tweak.
"No. I'm not giving it back." I say. He drop his head and lets out a huge sigh.
"Are you serious? What is this! What I haven't lost enough that you have to take this to."
"God would you shut the hell up about your bloody eye! I get it okay. You lost your eye and your arm. You're a poor wounded victim and you need sympathy." I say harshly. His eyebrows furrow in anger.
"The only thing I need is my jacket and you to get the hell out of my life." His words were harsh and cutting. luckily the alcohol has worn off enough to allow the usual barrier hiding my sensitivity to slowly be raised.
"Well your not going to get it standing out here. Either you leave." I unlock the door with a twitch of my wrist. "Or you come inside and help me light my fire," I say. I didn't need any help with the fire, I know how to chop wood and build a fire. I just again, want to see if he will do it. 
He stands there for a few moments his jaw clenched. He looks from me at the top of the stairs, and back to the pathway.
"Take your time. I'm just freezing here." I taunt, his eye grows wide as his voice grows into a deep grumble. "your cold!!" He shouts. I just laugh and walk inside, turning on the lights and waiting at the other side of the door, offering him my home. He takes a sharp inhale of air and reluctantly walks up the stairs and in the house. I smirk as I close the door. I take his jacket off and hang it on the coat stand, along with my shoes.
"Where's the fire?" He says, already relaxing a bit because the air is substantially warmer then outside. However, his body remains tensed. He's uncomfortable, in a home, im guessing.
"Over there." I point to the living room. It's a modest living room, bordering on a bit extravagant. The lights had a yellow like glow that reminds me Christmas, and all furniture was oak. The couch was a black leather that faced the open fireplace, but in summer it faced the tv to the left.
"Right" he mumbles under his breath as he takes steps towards the room. I leave him there as I walk to the kitchen and put the kettle on.
After a while Sev walks into the kitchen a little breathless, his sleeves rolled up expressing his forearm and his bionic one. Why is everything about this guy attractive. 
But again, couldn't care less. 
The fire comforts me as I hear the cracklings of the wood and a dim glow.
"Done, can I go now?" He says, I laugh and turn around.
"You never needed my permission. You could have taken your jacket and left at any point," he's face was priceless as he looks defensive and annoyed,
"You... You were the one that said." His sentences are cut short.
"Doesn't matter what I say. There is always a choice put before everyone, and each choses it," I say.
"So, it was a choice to be homeless is that what you think? A choice?" He repeats. A 
pathetic attempt to annul my stament. What was funny about this kid is that the rough guts you saw on the outside was a poorly crafted facade that became obvious when he opened his mouth. I took the two mugs into my hands. One herbal tea, the other a hot coco. I struted to him, forcing the coco in his hands as his face grew curious.
"I'm giving it to you now. Sev. You can't control the things that happen to you, but you control your reactions. But most of all, you can choose. I being in the position to, will give you that choice." I say, he grasps the coco furiously, warming him.
"This is all good and crypict. But what the hell do you want?" He says, taking a step forawd.
"Stay the night." I says simply. He retracts his head, and his neck cranes backward.
"AHH Skye, If this is what you wanted all along I could have told you I wasn't interested earlier. I'm not really into-" he notices the smirk on my face. "Oh. Your joking" I laugh.
"A little." I say with a smile. He squints in mock humour. "But i am serious." I say, sitting at the kitchen table. "I'm offering you to be my housemate." His face contorts into what I'm sure is perhaps is the most shocked expression I've ever seen in my life.
"Sit down." I say. Hesitantly he sits down, placing the coco on the table.
"Look. I don't believe in second chances. I think life is much to short to have an exceptions made for stupid choices. And that if you screw up, then it's nobody's problem but your own. I do however believe in giving people fair options for them to make their choice. And I'm in a position to give you yours."
"Well. It's a useless offer anyways. I can't pay for rent, nor bills." He says.
"Don't worry about that." I say waving him off.
"No. I'm not going to live here you paying the bills." He says, his jaw firm.
"I don't even pay them. Don't worry," I say. He looks around the room curiously for a second before turning back to me.
"Oh yeah, where are your parents?" He asks. It's the first time my eyes have caught off his and I take a sip nervously from the cup.
"They don't live here anymore. It's just me. Hence the reason I need a housemate" I say. He starts forming another question about the bills but I cut him off.
"Look. All you would have to do is pitch in a little with food. You have a job right?" I seem to remember him sometimes leaving school early to go to this job.
"Yeah." He says cautiously.
"Good. So then here are the rules." I begin. He examines me.
"Wait wait. You're actually being serious?" He says, the first time I've seen doubt loosen from his gaze.
"My offer is genuine. But if you don't shut he hell up and stop talking it won't be for long."
He laughs a little, and I force the smile playing on my lips down.
"First. You cook three nights of the week. We clean up after ourselves but have to clean properly once a week. I will not have a dirty house. Second. We are housemates, not friends. I'm not here to cater to your emotions or to your petty issues. We don't work together, and we are not a team. Clear?" I ask. He laughs a little. I'm guessing that's a yes.
"oh and. You can have girls here whatever I don't care, but keep them quite and don't expect me to cook breakfast in the morning. For either of you." I say, a grin spreads to his ears. "Don't worry about that Skye," he laughs,
"Right." I reply, not really sure what to make of the comment.
"I'll show you to your room. Then, we don't speak. Got it?" I say. He looks at me for a few short serious moments.
"So this is a thing now. Us being housemates?" He says, standing. I match his stance, coming up much to short.
"Shut up. And don't call us a thing. Unless of course your are planing to spend the night in my bed. In which case call me whatever you want, baby." I joke. He only cracks a wide smile as he follows me down the hall.
==Chapter Sev-en: Sev's POV==
Skye shows me to what is apparently my room now. Somehow I'm laying in the bed fifteen minutes later, after being given a stern: "Do not join me in my room" from my new...landlord? She said we weren't friends.
I've been the target of plenty of pity gestures in my life, but most people don't keep an amputee in their household unless they're rich, which Skye most likely is, and have plently of security. 
Not being used to sleeping in a bed, nonetheless a warm, comfortable one, I push myself out and find myself looking for the bathroom. Did she mention the bathroom? I rack my brains, and come to the conclusion that she didn't, or I'm stupid. Or both. My room was down a sort of hallway, and there are three doors on it. I put my hand on the brass knob of the first door and whisper "Please don't be a sex torture dungeon," over and over as I open the door. 
No bathroom, no dead bodies hanging from the ceiling. Just a few sort of expensive looking coats. 
I close the door quietly and try the other two doors. The second opens to a stair well leading up, the third to one leading down.
"How the heck does she a two-story house with a basement and not even pay her bills?" I say incredulously. Did I just get mixed up in some crazy witness-protection scheme? Why did I even come inside, this was a bad idea! That sentence screams in my head, along with numerous alarms. 
Dumb. Stupid. Idiot. Dumb. Soon to be murdered Sev. Before I can totally freak out, a voice of reason buried somewhere deep in my paranoid mind breaks through the torrent.
Skye's a college senior, privileged, girl. The only thing about her that's remotely slaying is her eyeliner. She also wouldn't invite me into her house to murder me, that would be tactless. Gosh, I wish I didn't have to think like this. Living on my own the past 6 years led me into some pretty rough places. Dark alleyways, parking lot melees, gang fights. 
Then I landed myself a "helping hand" into getting onto the right the track. In simpler terms, the government got a troubled, disabled youth into a helpful boy's home and set me up in middle school. That was seventh grade, and I'd already ran away by eighth. 
Stop. Stop. If I get going, there's no stopping and I'll have a full-blown panic attack on Skye's nice clean floors. I rush myself to the kitchen we passed through earlier and fill a cup as quickly and quietly as possible with water. 
Some way or other, I end up on the sofa, in front of the dying coals on the fire, sipping the drink, watching the last few sparks dance through the air in the fireplace. It's odd that a modern looking home like this would have an actual fireplace, but I can't help but like it. The warmth is much more comforting than that of the bed, and before I know it, the calming crackles and pops make my eyes heavy, and I'm forced into an abnormally comfortable sleep. 
==Skye. Eight.==
Now I don't want you to be mistaken. I could care less about my health or the impact certain activities. I don't get up at the 5am and run for two hours because I want to be fit, or skinny. I run because its fun.
I love the feeling my stomach gets when I reach a new speed, I love the thrill that cases my bones when my legs pump faster and faster. The rush of air though my hair, and the fresh untouched oxygen that fills my lungs. The world blurs, and all that matters is my point of origin.
I've always been a morning person, almost all my life waking up before the sunset. Getting most of whatever it is I need done, before the sun even came up. But I haven't always been thrill seeking. I remember back in Australia we had a theme park just a few blocks from our house. My brother and I were rewarded each year with a summer passes. While I spent most of my time eating fairy floss and paying with the dressed up characters. I would watch in awe as My brother would ride the tallest, fastest, most death defying rides in the entire park. It was only until we moved here, and he died. that id finally experienced the wild look in his eyes as he would get off the ride. Only then did I understand, how close you could feel to the world, to everything around you. While yet, being completely out of tune with reality. It is a world of thrill, but most of all. It is a world where my brother and I could connect, even after his death.  As if my heart pumps with his, each step.
My latest mix pumps in my ears and I slow to a jog. I tire of listening to my own voice. So I switch to Ministry of sounds 2010s trance album for the jog home.
I walk into the door, breathless. Walking to the kitchen I grab a bottle of water in the fridge, and head to the lounge room. Sev asleep on the couch. Again.
I'm sure he hasn't even slept in his bed once since he got here. A few weeks have passed since sev moved in. His habits are to be expected I guess. He has a shower twice a day, keeps to the cooking schedule every week, and cleans the house when i ask. He goes to work everyday, sometimes early in the morning, other's late at night. He is the perfect roommate I guess. Never has girls over like I asked, and keeps to himself.
Doesn't stop me from trying to mess with him.
I nudge his legs violently, slouching him even further. His eyelid lifts quickly, and his body snaps awake in seconds. I laugh as little as I take a bouncy seat next to him. He grumbles a little and ruffles his hair a little more. Its at all different angles, and the natural curl makes him look a little sexier then usual.
He looks to me, sitting a little more formal, eyes still sleepy. Hi nose turns up, leaning over to me slightly, sniffing.
"You stink." He mumbles out, his voice a little more croaky and deep then usual. With its usual metallic sound. Yummy.
"Good." I say lifting my arms up, he turns his nose up at me.
I glance at the table which is layered in white sheets of paper. On those is numerous pencils with broken led, and a calculator.
"Were you up all night doing this?" I say, leaning over to the coffee table.
"Yeah." He says, a little more alert. I look to the paper, maths. "It makes no sense." He says leaning back again.
"Yes it does." The equation is technically complicated. But the formula is easy to understand, and I spend the next few minutes explaining it to him. He argues a bit as usual. Eventually however, it clicks. And he leans back looking at me. I feel self a bit self conscious . Sweat soaks my jogging outfit, my hair is pulled up in a boring pony tail, and the makeup that lines my eyes is old,  from last night.
"You're a pretty good teacher you know. When your not trying to repel everything around you." He says with a smirk.
"How do you know I try?" I laugh.
His mouth still plays a smile, but the rest of his face has a serious air to it.
"You much more likable then you make out." My face drops a little. How the hell would he know?  Instead of perusing it further. I turn the attention back to the maths work.
"So what's all this for anyways?" I say.
"I have a test on Monday. And since I have only the weekend to figure out what the hell I'm doing. I'm up all night studying something I don't understand." I laugh a little.
"Ill help you." I say. Damn it. Why would I even offer that?
"You...Will..Help me?" He laughs a little.
"Sure. Not because I care. But because I'd hate to a maths problem go unsolved." I smirk.
"Fine. But if your going to help me, You have to let me help you." He says.
"No. I don't." I reply. Relaxes back, and both his arms sprawl across the couch back. He has been a little weary about exposing his arm. But i guess he eventually realized I pay him and his arm little to no attention. So now he wears sleeveless shirts these days.  
Not gunna say i'm not enjoying the view. I was wrong in my initial assumption that he is ripped. Having plenty of opportunity to properly observe him, he is not half as cut as most of the guys I know. But for some reason, it makes a most attractive. His body is humble, discreet lines on his stomach outlining his abbs. Although his upper body clearly strong, its not pretentious like most guys.
"What are you failing at?" He says. I laugh a little to hard, and wipe whatever sweat is left from my forehead from this mornings run on my shirt.
"Nothing. I'm good at everything I do." I'd like to say I was joking. But i'm not. I am good at everything I do. However, I do feel a little heat rise to my cheeks, and i avert his gaze. But he is right, I am failing.
"So then what don't you do?" He asks. Damn it.
"My teachers are riding me about... "Extras" I say, a little personally. He squints his eyes, looking at me right though. "Extras? Wait, you mean like sports?" He says, trying none at all to hide his smirk. I roll my eyes and stand.
"Forget about it." I feel my cheeks burn, as my legs jump for the couch and i make my way from him. Damn.
He stands hastily, blocking my path to the hallway with his height.
"Wait wait Skye." He says, his bionic arm halting me. "I'm sorry." He says seriously. Until I cock my head to the side and cross my arms.
He smiles again.
"No okay. I'm serious. Ill help you."
"I don't want your help." I mumble.
"No. But you need it." He says. I sigh.
I hate help, but most of all. I hate, hate, hate, admitting I'm no good at something.
"Cmon. You cant be perfect all the time." He says, gripping both my shoulders. The right, a little tighter. But I allow it. I only glance down, as I feel my cheeks burn brighter.
"Cmon. Get some breakfast. And ill meet you in the field down the road." He says, heading down the hallway.
"Wait, what are we gunna play?" I yell out. He turns around and smile.
"God Skye. Your such a control freak. Allow someone be in charge for once." he says as he shuts the door to his room.
I puff out.
Chapter 9: Sev's POV
If I ever fully grasp the mind of Skye, I might just die. Every single day for the past few weeks, she's been a different person ever single day. She's obviously got something she's deemed unmentionable hidden away in that head of hers. She probably ate the last cookie when she was eight.
That or she's just really trying to be distant from me, an odd thing to do considering she invited me to live with her. Not that I'm not grateful, it's been great actually living in a house. The luxury of ceilings was one I had nearly forgotten, a few days ago I watched the rain without having to get soaked. Skye, of course, had to ask why exactly I was staring out the window, because it was totally her business. 
Not that I'm a cliche' "I like the rain" kind of guy, it's just easier to think with the sound and sight of rain drumming down for some people. However, my affinity for rainstorms is for the opposite reason. The sound dulls my thoughts, which I need pretty often. I love the way I can close my eyes and hear the rhythmic tap-tap-tapping of the drops around me, and every crappy memory, every gruesome image implanted in my eyelids, everything just goes away for a while.
Somewhere in my thoughts, I apparently sit down on the bed I haven't slept in once since I got here. I grab a gray T-shirt, nothing special for a normal person, but this might be one of the only times since my accident that I went out in public with anything but long sleeves on. I shrug off the mostly sleeveless white shirt and pull on the gray one. I touch the metal contraption that is my left arm lightly. The metal is cold, because duh, it's metal. I try to avoid thinking too much about the strangely lanky arm, because usually it leads down a dark road of depression and really poor choices.
But...not today. Being around Skye and having her not care one bit about my disabilities somehow oddly comforted me. Everyone deals with things differently, I suppose. Other disabled people would rather have someone looking after them, but Skye's indifference is alarming helpful. And that's why I owe her this.
Sports never were my specialty, even before I lost most of the functionality of my respitory system. After my accident, however, I tried my hardest to keep the losses from defeating me. 
It did not work. At all. All it did was make me get muscled up in my real arm a bit so I look like one of those mutated crabs with one monster sized claws. I got to avoid PE classes for life, because if I tried to keep up with the other students, I would probably just die. 
Still, I was forced to attend said classes, so I picked up a bit of knowledge. One of the prominent sports at our amazing school is disc golf. Disc Golf. Possibly the most pointless sport ever conceived by the minds of men. But, most of the classes grades were recorded in the sport, so I figure if I can get Skye to some level of skill, she might just pass.
This oughta be good. 
*Time Passes, like, a lot, but not too much time, maybe like thirty minutes or somethin'*
Skye and I make remarkably good time for a crippled amputee and a sedentary Australian. The school grounds have a few dilapidated disc golf setups, and it's not that far from Skye's house. I throw a small bag full of discs onto the roots of one of the oak trees planted around the small lot of grass. 
Not exactly grass, more like dusty red soil with a few weeds and a few hidden marijuana plants. I just love the public school system. Skye coughs a bit when the bag disturbs some dust into the air, but she doesn't have it nearly as bad as I do. I feel like hacking up what "lungs" I have, bending over and bracing my hands against my knees. For the first time since I met her, what looks like genuine concern passes across her stony and annoyingly elegant features. 
"Sev, are you okay?" she says, walking hurriedly and placing her hand on my shaking shoulder. Of course, it's my left shoulder, and I can tell she feels the small pieces of metal anchoring my mechanical arm to my body. 
She snaps her hand back, a look of surprise, or disgust, not well hidden. "I'm...fine," I wheeze, opening the front pocket of the backpack and grabbing my small inhaler. I always hated the thing, because it felt like the object that mostly signified my disability, my weakness. I never used it unless I needed it, and I'd ended up in the ICU enough times to show for it. Still, it makes me sick to my stomach to use it in front of other people. 
Skye helps me onto the roots of the tree, and for a few minutes I do nothing but breathe in and out, in and out. People take for granted how easy it is to suck in air. I never appreciated it got hard for me. I do have it better than most, with the medicines and treatments actually working from time to time. Still, charred scar tissue isn't easy to deal with. Amidst my internal musings, I failed to notice that Skye was still watching me. 
"Everything alright, drama queen?" she says, plastering the egotistical smirk back on her face, but there's something off in her eyes. 
"Dr-Drama queen?" I gasp, due to the lack of air in me and surprise, "Your concern is overwhelming, you know that?"
"Yeah, yeah," she says, waving her hand at me, "Now what exactly are we doing out here?"
"Disc golf, in case you didn't notice the huge metal disc golf goals across the grounds," I say, exasperated. She looks at the rusted, pathetic things stuck into the ground, adjusting her sunglasses on her face.
"So...what do I do?" she says, placing her hands on her hips and looking at me expectantly. 
"Are you serious?" I inquire, and Skye nods. "You throw the discs into the metal things, it's shockingly simple," I say slowly, tossing her the bag full of various discs. "Go and throw things, I'm just gonna sit tight and try to not asphxiate."
Skye looks at the round objects like a D-student looks at a Calculus test, or how I look at a calculus test. "Uh huh, whatever cry-baby, I'll give you five minutes, and if you don't stand up by then I'm leaving you for the vultures."
"You say such nice things, I never knew you cared, Skye," I retort, but she's already turned and walked away. 
I settle against the rough bark of the tree and preparer to watch the show. 
==Chapter 10: Skye==
Sev sits at the base of a tree. (Totally fine by now mind you) Barking orders at me.
"Angle your wrist more." He shouts, a smile playing on his lips.
"Bite me." I reply.
Before when he was having his attack, I put my hand on his shoulder. Immediately I retracted it. As soon as I did, I realized it was the first time I've touched Sev. At least, the first time I wasn't punching him or trying to inflict some kind of pain.
As soon as my gentle fingertips felt the metal. I wanted more. I wanted nothing more but to touch his skin. His skin is manly, tough, Bleached with a soft brown from the sun. He has a small scar on his shoulder where I guess they implanted the bionic arm. My fingers wanted to trace it, to kiss it better. The longing in my heart, just a second. A second enough to freak the hell out of me.
This is Sev! Annoying, whiny, JUST MY HOUSEMATE Sev!
I struggle now to take my mind off it...Of him.
Damn you Skye. Its Sev!
"Right leg in front, and bend it slightly." He says, ripping out a weed.
"I'll bend you."  I mutter,
"Feisty." He remarks, his tongue lingering on the S.
I sigh, and do as he says. I feel so.. Demeaned. My eyes focus on an invisible target, and I pull back the disc trying to angle my wrist. My arm lurches backward, and the disc flies from my hand. Its not straight enough. Landing to far left.
I hear Sev sigh as I hang my head low.
"This is so stupid." I say. The lazy arse stands up and walks to me.
"Your almost there Skye. Have a bit of patience." He says, a little to kindly for my liking. He stands next to me, and picks up another metal disc.
"Here. Let me show you." He passes me the disc, and I look at it alien.
"Set it up like you would." I sigh, and pull the disc back past my head. Sev takes a few steps behind me and I feel his chest press on my back. His legs match my stance. His left arm, wraps around my stomach, and his right, The bionic one, meets mine, back past my head. I feel his breath on my neck, and smell his shampoo. My body stiffens.
"Tighten your stomach, but relax your back." He says, tapping my waist a bit. I comply, trying not to let a shaky breath out. The metal on his arms is cold on my skin. Yet, my skin burns with its touch.
"Good." He whispers. The word is unbelievably sexy.
"Okay. Now loosen your wrist, and adjust your fingers like this." He says, shaping my fingers against his.
"Good." He whispers again. I don't think he's trying to be seductive. But damn. I close my eyes, feeling the warm breath pass though his lips send shives down my spine.  His lips...
My eyes snap open as I flee from his arms and throw the disc to the floor.
"Whoa. You okay?" Sev asks, a little alarmed.
"I'm sick of this stupid game." I yell. "Its pointless and I hate it."
"You almost had it Skye." He says taking a step forward. I take one back.
" Why did you have to pick this stupid game anyways? Why couldn't it be soccer or something." I say, my eyebrows tensed. Trying to catch my breath. I have absolutely no idea where this anger is coming from.
"Soccer?" He looks at me quizzically.
"You know, kick the ball into the goals.." I say, trying to jog his memory. His face picks up the though and look slightly amused seconds later.
"You mean football?"
"Football. Whatever." He laughs at little. My anger blazes.
"Oh right yeah. The Australian cant speak "American." She's the idiot here." I say, my hands on my hips. Wait wait. Am I speaking in third person?
"Skye, that's not what I-" He begins.
"No you know what? You all think that the way you speak is correct. But have you ever considered that to me, the way you speak is incorrect?" I debate. He tilts his head the side and takes a few sly steps forward.
"That would be a valid argument.. If we weren't in America. Home of "Speaking incorrect." He regards. My mouth opens and my eyes squint. I'm taken back by the argument, I guess because he's right. But it pisses me off none the less.
"You know what "Mr.Correct." You can make your own bloody way home." I scream. Next, I'm turning on my heal, and stalking back out of the field.
My body heaves with relief for a moment. Happy to be away from the situation. Happy to be away from what I desired so wrongly. When I think I'm safe, a metal hand grabs my arm, and stops me. I turn to face him, and my heart rate rises. His eye burns though me, and his lips purse.
"Are you really mad about this? This silly argument?" He questions, noticing my anger doesn't nearly match the situation. My mind ticks.
"I'm just sick of you, and all the other bloody kids in this school thinking I'm some blonde Australian bimbo whose good for a laugh." I lie. Truth is, i could'nt care less what they think. Sev.. Sev I'm not so sure about.
He's eyes soften, loosening there dectecting gleam, and his body relaxes.
"Skye. You don't have to worry about any of that." He lets my arm go.
"The guys at this school gawk at you. The girls at this school are jealous of you, because the guys gawk at you. The teachers at this school are intimated by your intelligence." He reassures. But his face has a passionate softening when he looks me dead in the eyes.
 "And I think you are the smartest, and most beautiful Australian I have ever known." My heart flutters as it recognizes the genuine sincerity in his voice. He waits a few seconds, allowing the comment to settle in my mind. My eyes slowly fill with tears. I want to blink them away, but I would be remised if I denied myself the opportunity  to stare at him. Now he adds,
"While being a tad sadistic." He smiles lightly. I resist a smile, as I take a step back, allowing myself to blink the tears away while I stare that ground. Noticing my body is strangely light and shaky. And the anger I felt before has faded.
My mind searches for an explanation as to what the hell just happened. But I can only deal with the facts.
It is the first time someone has ever calmed down my anger.
And the first time in a long time someone has called me beautiful. Not hot, not sexy.
But beautiful.
"I'll help you clean these up." I switch the subject, walking back the discs.
==Chapter 11: Sev's POV==
"You're going where?!" I half yell at Skye, incredulously. Almost twenty minutes after we walked home, Skye was suddenly changing and grabbing up her stuff. 
"On a date," she says, already gathering her things, "It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun." I raise my eyebrow at the end of her sentence, and she snaps, "Not that kind of fun, perv." She slaps me on the arm with her purse, generally a playful gesture, but she somehow makes it actually sting.
"So, uhm," I begin awkwardly, "who exactly is this date with?"
"I highly doubt you'd even know who I'm talking about," she quips, putting her phone into her handbag. I must admit, she looks rather glamorous in a orangish-red dress that cuts off halfway down her thighs. Orangish-red is the only way to describe it, even though the color is probably some sort of Autumn Sunset Mango. I quickly pull my eye away from the cutoff of her dress, because if it's anything you don't want to get caught doing in a house you don't technically own, it's looking at your housemate's thighs. 
"Y-Y-You'd be surprised," I have to pause and curse myself for stammering, "I've been thrown into lockers by most of the people at the school, I'll probably know him. Or her, I don't judge." 
Why'd I say that? I'm not supposed to talk about getting thrown around at school, that shows it bothers me. Skye always makes me say things I really don't want to say. Like calling her beautiful today. Gosh, if I had kicked myself for that any harder I would've broken my foot. Of course, I meant it, and it's not something I could just take back, that's not polite. Is it? 
"W-w-well," Skye mocks, breaking me out of my stupor, it happens to be Andrew, that cute guy from the football team."
Oh gosh, if there was any name I wish she hadn't said, it's that one. "Are you sure? Tall guy? Blonde hair? Huge (Slang term for male reproductive organ; a mean person)?" I practically cough out. That guy has dented so many lockers with my body it's not even funny. 
"Yes to the first two, and if all goes well I might have an answer to that last one in a few weeks," She says in a joking tone, but it still disturbs me greatly. 
"Skye, Andrew, he's...he's like, sort of, how do I put this?" I ponder for a moment, looking for the right terms.
"Sev, please, I'm a big girl, and to be honest, you're no judge of character," Skye interrupts suddenly. "Seriously," she continues, "If you thought every guy who ever looked at you funny or pushed you around was a bad person, then that would be, hmm, lemme see here. Oh, yeah: Every single person you know."
I'm a tad shaken by her little outburst, and my words abandon me. I turn away, looking for some bad mood repellant in Skye's always-stocked wine cabinet. I pull out some bottle of something, I'm not much of a wine connoisseur, and pop the cork off. I expect to hear some accented noise of disapproval from Skye, but when I sit down with the bottle and a glass on the couch, she's already gone. 
I sigh heavily, a pour what I suspect is the first of quite a few glasses of wine. 
== Chapter 12: Skye's pov. ==
I walk into a restaurant that greatly unimpresses me. A golden chandelier dangles from the tall ceiling, candles light up the hall room, pretentious women and men with even more overdone outfits mingle at tables.
"Can I take your coat miss?" A young boy, maybe twenty or so dressed In a black tuxedo and white gloves asks me. Lord...
"Nah, I'll keep it on thanks." The man nods, but eyes look a bit disheartened. Oh that's right, Australian slang doesn't cut it in restaurants like this. 
Damn these fancy arse places. Truth is, with my roots, it's hard to be In a place like this. Reminds me of the life I was so close to having. Im not gonna lie when I say I'm trying extra hard to stand out of place here. 
As one of the waiters asks who I'm here with, Andrew stands up when his blue eyes rests on me. His eyes pop and his mouth hangs open and I make my way towards him. 
Is it possible he could find me attractive?
"Hot damn." He says, his Voice low. Not as low as Sev's however, a little disappointing I guess. "You look..." He says giving me a kiss on the cheek and holding my arms with 
both of his hands.
"You two." I smile warmly. He shakes his head and pulls the chair out for me as I sit down. Immediately after, he sits across from me.
Andrew has been asking me out for about three months, each time I refused. Something about the look in his eyes, and the warmest of smiles he gave me each time made me uncomfortable. But, after today, I figured my weirded out attraction to sev was most likely the result of absolutely no action in a few months. Not that is what tonight is about, but a way to get sev off my mind? Absolutely. Im not sure if it's working however, as hot and as beautiful Andrew is to stare at, my anger still burns with in me from before I left. Sev has no right to hate this guy. He's a good guy! Never once has a male of any kind pulled out my chair for me. Sure, I'm capable of pulling out my own chair, but, it was a nice gesture anyhow. However, what unsettled me was Sev's statement that Andrew as abused him in the past. 
I guess I always assumed no one messed with sev. That he was god like in the school. But was that just Among the girls? 
Anyhow, he has no right to put his own crap on me. This is my night, and I'm going to enjoy it.
And enjoy it I did.
As the night carried on, Andrew made every effort to impress me. Which made him all the more cute. He ordered bottomless champagne. Which I will always take advantage of. Truth is, I've had nothing to drink all day. A first In a while, so I was ready for the alcohol to fuel my body. I'm not sure how much of it I consumed, but, it was enough,
I'm completely smashed.
I finish eating my lasagna, which, I have no interest in, expect of course the champagne I wash down every bit with.
"Where say we go now my beautiful girl." He says. I feel myself blush as my head spins.
"Where do you want to go." My words are slurred in an attempt to sound sexy.
"Your drunk." He laughs? Andrew drank nothing all night, only a non alcoholic cider. He is clearly, not drunk.
"Does that matter?" I ask. He laughs again, while standing up. We walk to the door, well, I stumble and he links his arm to mine. Andrew writes a check to the doorman, and we step in the brisk air. He turns his face to mine while wrapping his arm around my waist. His blue eyes more defined in the glow from the restaurant behind us. And his blond hair looking brown.
"Shall we go back to mine?" He says. His eyes glaze with a different look then he had tonight. The genuineness usually dominating his face is gone, replaced with a sinister one. 
My heart flutters and I feel the corners of my mouth twinge down
"Oh.. I.. " I mumble. I have no interest in disappointing Andrew tonight. Up until now, I've had a wonderful time. And I'm sure I honestly am into this guy. Although I have spent a few nights away from home, it has only been with people from the club. No one from school, most of them much to preoccupied with grades or being an idiot. But Andrew, I know is different. 
Does that make it okay?
"C'mon." He leans down and whispers in my ear, sending nervous shivers down my body.
"I promise" he kisses behind my ear. "You're in for a good night." 
I felt the affect of the alcohol. All my reactions were slowed, my mind said no. But it was like my mouth couldn't form the words. Before I could say or think anything. He was driving me back to his house. My heart grew heavy as I knew there was no way out of this.
==Chapter 13: Sev's POV (We're doing better with the chapter numbers this time)==
I'm fairly certain the chair next to me wasn't floating one and a half glasses ago. Then again, what do I know? I've had what, 5 wineglasses worth of this stuff. Maybe should've checked the proof on the label before I had so much but whatever, life is short and I'm depressed.
Reason takes over my brain, and I force myself to my feet and grab the wine bottle. All of a sudden, the coffee table turns evil and kicks out it's leg. I try to jump out of the way, to no avail, and I trip over the villainous furniture's leg. Time's like this make me thankful that Skye has hardwood floors, because the bottle shatters and red liquid pours everywhere. 
I scrunch up my nose, which I don't often do because it makes my empty eye socket feel weird. Somehow I'm on my feet again, and I manage a look at the clock hanging on the wall. 
4:00 A.M? No...that can't be right, Skye left around 6 o'clock, she can't have been gone that long unless-...Crap. Almost on cue, the door opens and the two lovebirds stagger in. Brilliant, they're drunk too.
Skye notices me before Andrew does, and she looks at me like I'm holding an axe and yelling "Here's JOHNNY!" She makes some form of gesture indicating the door next to me, and some form of grace returns to me so that I manage to shove myself into the closet before I'm seen. Pressing my ear to the door, I can just hear slurred voices outside in the kitchen. 
"Thanks for a, ahem, lovely time," Andrew says, in a manner that insinuates a lot about their time. Somehow, his words aren't dragging, and he sounds frustratingly sober. 
Skye, however, is a very different story, "Yeh...i-it was..fuuuuun. I uh...Imma t'red...Gotta hit the...the uh...the bed." She fumbles so much with her sentence she starts to laugh, and Andrew chuckles a bit less than lightheartedly. 
"Right," he mutters, and I strain to hear him as he whispers for some reason, "I'll make sure to call you later. We have to do that again sometime."
A few moments pass, and I hear a truck backfire and drive steadily into the distance. The alcohol in me fuels my anger enough that as soon as I'm sure he's gone, I throw the door open. 
"First of all," I slur, unsteady on my feet, "How DARE you?" I catch sight of Skye finally, now that the lights are on in the kitchen, and I about have a heart attack. Her dress looks really wrinkled up, and her hair's going every which way. Her eyes are crazed, she's extremely hammered, and she looks way more smug than usual.
"Wot?" she says, heading towards the wine cabinet, fumbling with the handles. "Sorry I'm home after curfew, 'Dad'." she exclaims angrily, pounding the door in drunken frustration and finally yanking it open. 
"It's FOUR IN THE MORNING!" I yell louder than I would without the wine fueling me, "You mean to tell me that you and Andrew were...you were..WHY?" 
"Chill, Sev, chill," she says, uncorking a bottle and drinking straight from it, "It's not like it's a HUGE deal, right?" I practically jump forward, narrowly dodging the coffee table this time, and snatch the bottle from her.
"First of all, you're drrrrrunk!" Crap, I'm slurring too. "So no more alcoalcohol, and two, you can't go around acting like some heartsick romance novel character with football team neanderthals!"
"Look at Mr. Big Words!" she cries, grabbing desperately for the bottle, "Guess what smarty plants, I don't care, OKAY?! So just, shut up, and. Go away. Leave me the hell alone, now."
I start a bit. Drunk people have always been more honest than usual, and by that I mean, more openly terrible to others. However, this sounds awfully close to me getting kicked out of the only house I've had for years. I immediately try to backpedal, and sputter out a bunch of apologies. Somewhere in there, I let Skye retire to her bedroom, where I see that she passed out on top of the sheets. I pause, looking at her pathetic form sprawled on the bed.
In a small gesture, I throw a blanket over her and walk out of the room, shutting the door lightly behind me. 
==Chapter 14: Skyes Pov==
I wake slowly, my body weighing what feels like the weight of the ocean, and my mind bearing an even heavier load. It pounds harder when my eyes open to the fresh sunlight in the window. I quickly shield my eyes for a few moments before they painfully adjust. Images flash though my mind of last night. Not many however.
A few of Andrew smiling at me, defiantly champagne. And one alien one of Sev's frustrated face screaming at me. I wish I could remember the story behind that one.
Somehow last night I made it to my bed as the black feature wall covered with orange and yellow swirls looks strangely familiar. I turn to my left, reaching my arm over for Andrew only to find him absent.
I would have curled up there again, if the scent of bitter coffee hadn't filled my senses. I lift my body from the white sheets, a little stained black from my mascara, and fumble down stairs.
I eventually, my body pounding me, make it to the kitchen where a very scuffed up Sev stands at the marble counter over the coffee mug. Well, I wouldn't call it standing, more like hunching.
"Well well." I say, my voice scratchy. Sevs head whips up with what usually would be a swift move, now its slowed, unenthusiastic. His eyes glazed, but a little more alert then last nights stare me down.
Last night.
Oh that's right. My mind flooded with argument we had. And the words " you can't go around acting like some heartsick romance novel character" ringed in my ears. The fury filed by them made my body sag.
"You look terrible." He says plainly.
"Not much better yourself." I say, taking a wobbly seat at the coffee table. It was kind of a lie, as screwed up as Sev looks, He still manages to be a little breath taking. His hair a clear scruff, unshaven, stubble layering his chin, wearing only a white singlet and boxer shorts.
Sev pours me another coffee cup, and passes it to me. A small smile playing on his lips. A white flag?
"Are we going talk about last night?" He asks, and I wrap my fingers around the mug.
I try to formulate a response. Instead, I just stay silent. Still trying to figure out exactly why Sev was so upset. He says and sits across from me.
"I think we need to." He says again. Implying me to say something else. Instead I take a sip from the hot coffee, burning my tongue.
"What time did I come home last night?" I say, in an effort to piece something together.
"Four A.M." He says, taking a sip of his cup. Squinting his eyes shut as he burns his tongue, I'm guessing.
I tilt my head to him.
"Four?" I affirm. My mind clicks as more flashes jog my memory. Images of Andrew on top of me, the white roof behind him making his tanned chest look even more so with his shirt off.
Oh.
"You don't remember?" Sev says, worry lines forming on his forehead. I don't reply again. An image of a few beers on a coffee table course though my head again.
So champane wasn't all I had to drink that night. Andrew must have supplied me with more alcohol when we got to his place.
"Andrew sound like he had barely drunk. Did he even drink anything?"
Again, I don't reply. Shouldn't Sev know by now I don't like these questions? "So, you don't even remember last night. And he was totally sober." Sev has said way to much for a hung-over mind to comprehend. I lash out in the first fight of the day.
"Shut the hell up, okay." I yell. "It's none of your friggen' business what the hell happened to me. Get that?"
He stands, his body more sturdy, more powerful then before.
"Why would you say it like that Skye?" He says, his voice cold.
"Like what?" I say, standing, smashing the coffee down The sound hurts my head, and the liquid burns my hand as it spills over the sides.
"Like you had no choice in the matter. Did you have any?", he says taking furious steps forward. My body wants to run, retreat, by my mind hates these questions, and the one asking them.
"Why do you even care! He's my boyfriend, not bloody yours!"
"Oh so he's your boyfriend now? That's not what you made it sound like last night" He screams. I scream right back.
"You have no idea about me! Or him! Or anything! Stop trying with me will you! God." I yell back. Sev brings white knuckles to his face in an effort to calm himself down. It doesn't work.
"That guy is an IDIOT! He slept with you last night, and you probably didn't even know what was happening! Your the idiot two if you think you two even remotely and item." He says.
The words pain me and strain my lips as tears spill out my eyes in an instant. Never before has my anger showed itself in pain. Sev notices my sobs and tries to comfort me with his arms. But I'm not sad, I don't need comforting. I just need him to get the hell away from me.
I take steady steps from Sev, and wipe my cheeks.
"I'm not yours  to save." I say, harshly.  I walk up the stairs, leaving a trail of depth behind me. Unresolved issues and anger between Sev and I.
I turn my shower on hot, and let the sound of the furious water drown out the sound of my tears.
Chapter 15: Sev's POV
It's easy to forget about actual obligations like school when you're spending half your time screaming at your housemate. This realization dawns on me as the Monday morning sunlight slants into my room. Ever since me and Skye had our fight, I've decided it's better to sleep in my actual bed than on the couch. 
I groan like some inhuman thing and hoist myself out of bed. I grope around on the end table, sleepiness making it hard to see properly, and I somehow find my eyepatch in the confusion. I pull it over my head, hiding the cord behind a lock of my dark hair. I grab a gray shirt with bits of forest green on it and pull on a pair of sweatpants. 
People always ask me how I shower with my mechanical arm, which I always avoided answering because I didn't get to shower very often. When I do, I tie a towel around the arm tightly, because my doctors warned that if I didn't, it would essentially act like a toaster oven towards me. I stumble towards the bathroom, hoping to beat Skye there, and it appears I do, as I step under the warm water with a huge towel wrapped around me. At some of the more difficult times in my life, I had pondered what exactly would happen if I unwrapped the towel, today I just hope that it doesn't fall off and Skye has to pull my soaking wet, uncovered body out of her shower. That would probably make things worse between us. 
Neither of these come to pass, fortunately, and within fifteen minutes I find myself dressed and out the door. Skye can, as she would word it "bloody well take care of herself", so I don't bother waking her up or asking for a ride. Her house is only a few minutes from school, and I'm thankful for the opportunity to sift through my troubled thoughts.
I say "opportunity", but what I really mean is "quiet time to curse Skye under my breath and kick pebbles into the street". Through the years I've found myself to be very adept at avoided my problems, even when I live under the same roof as them. 
***
The only thing that motivates me anymore is that school is over in just a few weeks. A few weeks and I'll finally leave this hellhole behind...for another, larger hellhole. 
Today is especially terrible. I hear jeering in the hallway, as I do everyday, but in Chemistry or Biology or something, (Just call it Science for heaven's sakes), there's a new student, at the very end of the year, no less. Dealing with people I've known for four years is bad enough, but the unbridled fear on this girl's face just about sets me off. When you've got one eye, and a mechanical arm hidden under your sleeve, you can either look weak and injured or tough and hardened. I choose the latter, but a voice in my head screams that I actually am the former. 
In all my years, I haven't let the illusion slip, and today, I sit with my arm...arms? crossed over my chest and stare a dagger at the board, catching glimpses from the new girl across the room. She looks at me as if I'm going to try and sell drugs, or steal her virtue, maybe shoot up the school. As soon as class ends, I hurry towards the door, only to be blocked in the cascade on people leaving. I step aside to avoid getting trampled, and can see the girl talking to the teacher, only catching snippets of the conversation. Of the words I pick out, such as "threatening", "don't feel safe", and "legal record", none of them particularly put a smile on my face. 
The rest of the day goes about as well, I don't see the new girl again, but after P.E., I run into something worse. Andrew, striding out of the showers like he owns the place.
"Hey there Robo," he laughs, his posse' already forming behind him, "how goes it, buddy?"
I grit my teeth, struggling not to make a sarcastic remark or punch him in the face. "Good afternoon, Andrew," I mutter quietly, shrugging my gray and green shirt back on, "If you would excuse me, I have to-"
"Whoa whoa there, grumpy face!" he interrupts, blocking my way, "What's the rush?"
Oh dear lord no, I think to myself, and try to step away. "I'm just leaving, which I'm sure we're all trying to do. Everyone's got somewhere to be, don't they?" 
"Oh yeah?" he questions, slamming the locker with my gym bag inside it closed, "Places to go, people to do?"
I feign a bit of laughter, ignoring the heat rising to my face. "That's very funny, Andrew, tell us, what are your undoubtedly interesting plans for this afternoon?" 
Of course, he misses my sarcasm, because his brain probably doesn't process that quickly. A grin spreads across his face and he proudly states, "I'm going out with this chick, she's hot, she's foreign, and man is she EASY! Ha! She's a total airhead. I got her drunk on the first date and needless to say, the way things went, I'll be doing that again. Best thing, her dad is friggin' loaded- some car company owner in town. After a while, I get in good with her old man, get the job, and them I'm out."
Now I'm certain that there is steam coming out of my ears and smoke coming off my hair. I clench my real fist so tight I think I draw blood. I'm confident enough in his stupidity to make my next remark with a somehow straight face. "How contemptible of you, Andrew."
"Uh huh, download that big word from your little computer head, Robo? Domo arigato, loser," he says, pushing me into my locker and swaggering off, guffawing with his cohorts. My vision spins a bit from the impact, and his words turn it red. One thought burns in my mind so clear I whisper it to myself out loud.
"I gotta tell Skye." 
==Chapter 16: Skyes Pov==
So Andrew and I may not have started off the most steady beginning, but hey! At least we have a story to tell the grandkids huh?
Grandkids?!  No doubt you're thinking? Gee Skye, that's a bit fast. I think so to, but Andrew is full on.
He has planned our whole lives. We are going to get married the day I turn eighteen, then we will move back to Australia and move into a studio with no furniture and become a real life notebook.
Far fetched, and extremely unlikely, but cute none the less. I'm a different person with Andrew. Its like I'm nothing of what I am with anyone else. Usually, cold harsh, and over logical. I turn into a silly girl with even sillier dreams when with him. I like the feeling of letting go, and most of all I like the feeling of overwhelming kindness filling me. Andrew is kind, and affectionate. And it's only been two days!
I'm, not really sure what will happen past the honeymoon stage but, I know I never want to leave it.
I stroke my hair for the thousandth time in and effort to impress Andrew. I wish I could change the colour of my hair. A golden blond, down to my lower back, natural highlights streaking them. Illuminating them.
I wish for a raven black, to match my attitude that I've worked so very long on. Numerous times I've even bought the dye, but every time I go to put the paste in my hair... I stare at it too long, remember my brothers hair, the same shade as mine. One of the only tangible things I have left of him.
I smile at my appearance in an effort to imitate how I will act tonight. I feel stupid when I'm around Andrew, gushy, directionless, everything I vow to spit on. And yet with him, it feels right. He doesn't seem to mind anyways.
As I put-on yet another coat of mascara, a hear a distant fumbling and slamming noise, and seconds later a figure bursts though the door. I check in the mirror,  Sev stands red faced, and hunched over, wheezing.
"Whoa, calm down there Sevical." I say a little to complacent for his breathless heaving.
His face looks panicked, until he stopes and furrows his brow at me
"Sevical?" He repeats. I shrug my shoulders and move on to my left eye.
"I...Have to tell...You something." he says, two or three breaths between his pauses. I roll my eyes and put the brush back in the orange cylinder and walk to him.
"Sit down before I have to pick you off the ground." I reach around his torso and guide him to my bed. When he is sitting there, I turn back to the mirror. Now fixing my already impeccable eyeliner, I give Sev his time and eventually he has gained enough breath.
"I have to tell you something." He repeats his earlier statement.
"Yeah, you mentioned. What did you do, run here?"
"Kinda." He replies, wiping his brow.
"Well, hurry, I have to meet with Andrew in five."
"That's what its about; you can't meet with him. Date him, whatever." He adds. I roll my eyes and turn my body to him, making sure my hip is sticking out as far as it can.
"How long are you going to sing this tune before you realize I couldn't care less about what you think!" I say, a bit over him. Our tension has been less then comfortable in the house. But I'm used to uncomfortable air, I think it has unsettled him a lot more then me, which is why containing to try and convince me that Andrew is a jerk seems counterproductive.
"Skye, before it was just a hunch... But, well, its different now." he expresses. I turn to my left, walking to my closet.
"Different?" I inquire.
"I ran into you little friend in the hallway today."
"Oh?" I respond intrigued.
"He had a lot to say about you." the tone in his voice is less then positive. "Skye, he's using you. He doesn't even like you." I turn to him, arrogance spilling my body.
"Right, because you are in our relationship and know how each other feel about one another."
"Skye... He bragged about "Banging the hottest chick in the school." Or some crap like that." I think about the comment for a second.
"Well...He's not wrong." I say, turning back, searching for my black heals.
Sevs face reads shock just before I turn away.
"You're just going to let him use you as a bragging tool?" He says, his voice curious.
"Well, I'm not the happiest about it. But it's what guys do." i express. Sev clearly wants to say more, but he refrains, choosing a different topic.
"That's not all he said."
I sigh, willing this pointless conversation to end.
I walk to him, and sit next to him on the bed. Making sure a safe distance remains between us.
"Skye. He said something about your dad." My ears pick up, and I feel my face drop. "How he needed you to get to him." My heart rate rises.
"What was the name he used?" I ask. It could be one of two, if its the first. Hes lying...But the second...
"What for you father?"
"Yeah. The name." I say.
"I don't know-" He says. I walk away.
"You're lying." I say bluntly, walking down the stairs. Sev follows close behind.
"Skye I'm not! He said he was going to-"
"I don't want to hear it Sev!" I scream. I turn around, half way down the stairs. I meet him on the same step as him, so I don't feel so small.
"You." I say furiously, my eyes never loosing contact with his. "Need to drop this. I have no clue as to why your trying so bad to screw us up. Maybe you really do hate him, or you're jealous or something." I say.
"Jealous?" He questions, absurdity reading his face.
"I'm not finished!" I scream, even louder then I knew possible.
"Drop this Sev." I say, pointing to his chest. "Drop it. And don't you ever bring it up again or so help me god I will shove my foot so far up you're-"
"Okay!" He screams, his hands high in the air in defeat.
"But you mark my words Skye. You will get your heart broken." He says, walking the rest of the way down the stairs. I would love to have jumped on his back, wrestled him to the ground and pounded on him a few times. But the phone in my pocket buzzes. I slide to the right to answer Andrews ringtone.
"Hey Baby." I say a little frustrated. A comforting sound comes though the phone.
"Hey Babe. Everything okay?" He asks, detecting my tone.
"Yeah. I'm just really looking forward to seeing you. You on your way?" I express. I hear him sigh.
"No babe. I'm not feeling it this arvo. I don't think I want to come tonight." My cheeks blush.
"But.. Its my opening night?" I say in question. I see Sev pass the hall with a drink of water, only glancing indifferently my way. I turn my back in hopes he wont hear the conversation. Sitting on the step.
"Yeah, babe I know. Its just that clubs aren't really my thing. But I can meet you after if you like?" he says.
"After?"
"Yeah, text me when you get home and we can after our own after party huh?" He says, his voice changing into a seductive tone. But I feel my heart sink.
"Yeah..." I say after a while. "I can if you like." I say, a little sorry.
"Cmon Babe. Don't be like that." he pleads.
"Its just, you have never heard my stuff... I though it would be nice to have you there, especially with my whole new set list." I say.
"Ugh, fine. God damn if you want me to come so bad I will!" He says, frustration filling his voice.
"No. Hun, its okay. Ill text you when I get home, like we said." I compromise.
"Okay. I'm sorry I got mad. We will have fun tonight. Promise." Next thing, I hear the three beeps to follow the end of a call.
I sigh a bit, clicking the top right hand corner of my phone. I take a second to take in my disappointment, then I turn around. To find Sev standing at the bottom of the stairs a knowing look in his eyes.
"Don't start." I mumble.
"Wasn't gunner."
Chapter 17: Sev's POV
I contemplate getting drunk again, but considering how well that went last time, I figure it might not be in my best interest. After Skye left, I proceeded to do pretty much nothing, the same thing I always do when I have problems that need to be dealt with. I sat on the couch for half an hour until boredom drove me to my feet, at which point I cleaned my room for the thirtieth time. Of the few people who have known me for long periods of time, all of them have at some point or another called me tidy. Somehow, I managed to keep my tenacious cleanliness after the accident, a tether to my old life. 
Eventually, after I sweep through my room, arranging the dust mites into perfect rows, I find myself on the couch again, watching a documentary on modern documentaries.
And they say entertainment is dead.
Something tells me Skye is off enjoying herself more than I am. I seem to recall her talking about DJing at some random club downtown to Andrew on the phone. Either she was still doing that, or she had lost control of herself and was spending her Monday night encircled in the arms of her lover. Not that I'm not happy for her, or jealous of Andrew, for that matter, I just worry that he'll move in here soon and that means "Bye Bye Sev!"
Then again, putting up with Honeymoon-stage Skye is almost impossible. Any person in a new relationship is insufferable. I just pray that it dies down soon, or I might lose my mind. While I have never ben one of the so called "nice guys" at school who wears a fedora and "finishes last", I know an absolute slimeball when I see one, and Andrew is one of those slimeballs. 
Skye's willingness to be with him perplexes me, especially since Andrew is like rock bottom, and Skye is...well...the opposite. No, She-she's not....she's too nice for Andrew, that's it. That's not exactly saying much, and while Skye is pretty tough, it's almost certainly a front, and not a solid one at that. Every now and then over the past few weeks, I'd sometimes see her falsehood's fall away, and I can tell that there might be a good person in there somewhere.
Gah. I need to stop thinking about it. Odds are I'm totally wrong and Skye actually is a preppy teenage girl who likes to date the bad boys and make bad decisions. Or she might not...and Andrew could really hurt her state of mind, or...
I should've just gotten drunk tonight, I say to myself, grabbing a coat and striding out the door, trying to remember the name of the club Skye was going to. 
==Chapter 18: Skye's POV==
It's easy to forgot almost everything in here. The smell of alcohol and sweat that used I used to turn my nose up to, now after a few drinks, fuels me.
I sit out the back in the VIP room, flicking though my list nervously.
For the next 6 weeks, every Friday and Saturday night I'll be playing my stuff till the late morning. This Monday night however, is the night where I show the public, and my bosses, what they will be hearing for those weeks. It's a massive night, and a lot rides on pleasing an audience. If I don't get people dancing and drinking, I could lose this contract and be out of work.  So, naturally, a few drinks are necessary. I hear last summers music blaring though the speaks outside the door as an amateur dj screams though the microphone. I cringe.
"Skyla?" A voice says, his head peeping though.
"Hey Olly." I say, Oliver is a bouncer here. Nice guy, we've got somewhat close over the months. Well, as close as anyone can get to me. He takes a few steps forward and closes the door.
"You doing okay?" He asks. I shrug.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I bit nervous." I say.
"That's not like you." He says, noticing my bouncing leg.
"Maybe I just need another drink." I laugh. He smile and kissing me on the cheek.
"You're on in five. Ill grab you a shot before you go." He says leaving. I sigh, and stand, a little wobbly. I cant tell if its from the vodka or the nerves.
Its not like me to be nervous, usually full of confidence and self assurance. I loose it all when it comes to the desk. Music is perhaps the most intimate thing I share with people. Although the words I'm forced to write, (Mostly about drinking and "Having a good night" So the sales go up at the bar) have little to no meaning, The music, the effort, and the work behind actually creating every bass drop, every treble lift, and every backtrack is underestimated. I can easily spend 12 hours just on one chorus. Which is why it has taken me three months to get a new list of twenty four of my original stuff, and 30 of my cover remixes
I walk out to the room as the song builds up to its end. All my music and equipment is up there already, begging my fingers to get to work on the sweet sound system. I liken DJing to making love; you got to be gentle, precise, but every now and then you got to loosen up and let out a little scream.
My stomach churns, looking at the sea of people jumping up and down. Not everyone's drunk yet, which is kind of concerning. Drunk people will dance to anything, sober, you actually have to have a measure of talent.
(NIKKI MAKES A GUEST APPEARANCE)
The crowd mulls around restlessly, not quite dancing to the beat, not unlike sheep unsure where to go. This is where I come in. I move onto the next song, which starts out with a slow bass; the beat picks up quickly, sending pulses from the speakers. I feel energy surge through the crowd as the song moves; they toss and turn, some beginning to branch out of the awkward swaying. A couple grabs each others' hands and spin, one's dress billowing out as they spin each other. 
The distant mood from a few seconds ago dissipates, and all of a sudden, the dancefloor becomes a single entity, meshing the music and the people and me, altogether. Warmth flows into me as I fall into my sweet spot. I'm like a conductor, ordering about the orchestra. No, I'm more than just the leader. I'm the puppeteer. 
The music responds to my every touch; a little louder, a bit more reverb, smooth the pitch. I glide my fingers across the panel. This feeling of absolute control- the crowd shifting ever so slightly with every change, the song flowing as easily as talking, the energy at your fingertips- is the sort of high one can never get enough of. 
I hum along to the song, blocking out the chavvy words, singing my own lyrics instead. The electronic lyrics keep the mood energized, but my stomach still twists, knowing the words aren't mine. After a few more songs, I can feel the crowd slipping from my puppet strings, dulling from the taste of alcohol. My eyes flick towards Oliver, who nods his head to the beat, and to the bar, which is full of patrons. The full bar is a good sign- a bored bouncer? Not so much. 
Slowly, the music gets louder, faster, brighter. The air is thick with alcohol, electrified by the increasingly loud mix. I feel myself gaining control again, capturing the now drunk crowd. I buzz with excitement- the night is a success. I know my bosses will love the result; no doubt they are raking in cash. 
Reaching for the microphone, I glance back at the door. I open my mouth to say something, when I recognize a glowing eye piercing through the dark haze. No words come out; I raise my hand to my mouth, only to slam it against the soundboard, and drop the mic.
I register the sharp feedback, the few yells in the crowd, but I can't react. Not with that glowing orange eye glaring across the room. My concentration lapses, and for a second I allow the feedback to ring.
Quickly, as I gain my composure, grabbing the mic
"well well well! You need to step. it.Up! No good having a DJ bored now is it?" I laugh, and everyone cheers at my wild statement.
"Can I get a hay yeah!" I sing, in I time with the beat. The crows screams "heyya!"
"I can't hearrrrrr you!" I scream into the mic.
They repeat the sound, this time at a raw intensity.
"That's better! I wanna hear you screaming tonight! I'm Dj Skyla, and you are. AT. MY. CLUB!" The crowd erupts in screaming, fists pumping to the beat as I manage to turn the volume up even louder, and increase the severity of the bass.
It was a mistake that could have cost me the job, but fooling people is the easy part of my job. Especially since almost all of them will be smashed in the next hour. 
However, Heat rushes to my face, as I find myself unable to meet the eye.
The mistake is done. Perhaps cleared up as much as possible.
But why did I react to seeing Sev?
==Chapter 19: Sev's POV (Bit of a wait, sorry)==
"Well, that certainly was interesting," I say to Skye when she finally walks off the stage. "I've never been to a nightclub like this before."
She laughs a bit harder then a normal person would, and I can't help but notice she's reeling a tad. "But didya like it, Sev?" she says, rolling her words and smiling brightly. 
"Oh yeah, of course, the music was great," I say, partially lying. The music wasn't horrible, but loud, constant noises as a whole just don't suit me very well. "Skye, are you drunk?"
"Well...I mean..." she mutters, staggering slightly towards the door, "Is a club? There's drinks, silly goose." She reaches up and attempts to somehow poke my nose..or something, but instead only manages to rub my cheek. I laugh it off, but something about makes it hard not to visibly shudder. "Are YOU drunk?"
Part of me wants to play the role of cool guy who made sure he didn't get smashed, but I have to be honest with her. "I tried, but the bartender could tell I wasn't 18, which sucked."
Skye bursts out laughing, and I'm glad the lights are going off and she can't see my face flush. "I think we better get you home," I say to her, reaching my flesh-and-bone arm around her and guiding her towards the exit. When we push the door open, it's almost pitch black outside. I notice that Skye has a wristwatch on, and I can barely read the time on it. "1:34 A.M.?" I exclaim. The atmosphere of the club seemingly removed my sense of time, so I decide we'd really better hurry home. I scan the parking lot, but apparently Skye got a ride or walked here, because it's deserted. 
Of course, I walked, which I remember was about a mile. That's not too much for me, because I'm used to walking places, but I worry about my enibriated companion. There wouldn't be any taxis around at this time, and I wouldn't want to fetch a ride from a stranger. "Skye. Skye?" I half-yell, shaking her so that she looks at me, "Do you know anyone who could give us a ride?"
She shakes her head as if to clear it, and pulls a phone slowly from the inside of her shoe. I take it, and smile thankfully, opening her contacts. My brow furrows; there's hardly any names in here. Odd that a social butterfly wouldn't have many "gurlfrands" or whatever they called each other. There is one name that I know, but I hesitate to call it: "Andrew".
I look over at Skye, hoping that maybe her drunkness is wearing off and I don't have to do this. Unfortunately, this is definetely not the case. For Skye's sake, I press the call button, and pray he's too asleep to- 
"Whut? Skye whatter you doing? It's like...one in the morning," trolls the sleepy voice at the end of the line.
I steel my nerve, and try to sound as apologetic as possible, "Hey uh, yeah? Andrew. It's uhm...Sev. Yeah. I was at the nightclub where your girlfriend works, and she's just super hammered and doesn't have a ride. Would you mind just picking her up, and take her back to her place?"
As the words spill out, part of suddenly realizes what I'm doing and I freeze. 
Balls.
As if Andrew could be trusted with a Drunk Skye, as he'd already shown. I tack on, before he replies, "And..I'm a bit tipsy too, so...if you wouldn't mind, I'd owe you big time if you might give me a ride as well?"
The line is silent for what feels like an eternity before Andrew grumbles, "Yeah yeah, whatever Robo. Be there in fifteen." Then the line clicks and I exhale loudly, relieved. 
I hand Skye, her phone, and she somehow manages to slip in back into her shoe without falling over. "Who was that?" she questions.
I sigh, exasperated, "No one, but you owe me big time."
==Skye 20.==
Sev looks hotter then usual in a plain white neck shirt, a black vest that covers his bionic arm and tight blue jeans that hug his but.
Yummie
 
"Ah sir" A familiar voice comes from behind, while Sev clutches my waist (Which really isn't necessary . I may or may not have pretended I was a bit more drunk then I am... What?)  Sev's head flips around to meet Oliver's strong chest. He's about half a foot taller then Sev. "Do you know Skyla?" He says, a quizzical look in his eyes. Sev smiles warmly.
"Yes Sir. I'm a friend of hers." He says, clutching my stomach harder.
"Boyfriend?" Oliver replies still sceptical.
"Not yet." I blurt out. Sev cranes his neck to me and furrows his brow. I crack a wide smile, and he returns one quickly with a small chuckle.
"I'm her roommate." He says turning back to him. "Sev." He un hooks himself from my waist for a moment to offer his hand. Oliver looks at me a second and I nod, granting permission. Oliver smiles and clutches his hand shaking it in a up and down motion.
"I didn't know Skye had a roommate." Ollie says generously.
"Well I didn't know you were here to protect her so well. It's good to know." Sev's persona has completely changed from the usual sullen cool kid look. He offers his smile up willingly, and has no trouble looking another in the eye.
"Nah, she deserves it." Oliver replies, giving me a wink. Sev grabs my hand and wraps it around his wait, his going over my should grabbing on to my hip. This stance is different, he's not supporting me. This move sends out a clear signal to Oliver: She's mine. 
I blush.
"Yes." He replies, still a warm tone, but his eyes have hardened a little. I allow the exchange, finding it thrilling.
"Well, I'll catch you another time. Our rides here." Sev says looking over his shoulder. I glance to see a pair of headlights appearing over a small hill leading to the club.
"No problem. Have a great night Bro." Oliver returns to his position at the doors.
Once Oliver is turned away, I feel tenseness in Sev's chest rise, as he lets me go slightly, and returns to the previous supportive position.
We turn to the pavement and I notice the head lights.
"You know, you don't have to worry about Oliver, he wouldn't nev-" My eyes adjust to the lights so I can see the make of the car. "Hey that looks like- Wait is that Andrew?" I ask Sev, whipping my hair to him. He looks at me with little wonderment.
"Yup." He sigh. My arms kick his away, and anger rises in me.
"What's your problem?" Sev says shocked.
"You shouldn't have called him." I say, slurred anger spewing from my mouth.
I cant really explain my reaction. Only that.. Only that, Andrew was meant to be the one here. He was meant to claim ownership from Oliver. He was supposed to tell me my music was good. He was supposed to... To be sev.
Tonight, Sev managed to be everything I needed... Wanted. And now its going to be... Ruined? My thoughts are irrational, they shouldn't be directed at Sev. And I should be upset, and none of this should be like this.
"Well sorry! I just didn't want you to walk home in the dark... It's dangerous." He says, his eyes softening a little. I want to melt, but on won't in front of either of them. The car pulls up in front of us, and I hear Andrew yell.
"Get in." Sev gives me a knowing look, and turns his attention to the car. He goes to open the passenger door for me. Just like Andrew should.  
"Dont." I say, before I can. He puts his hands high in the sky, puffing.
I get in the car. Andrews hair perfectly combed and his outfit uncoupled. He hasn't even been asleep. I hear Sev shuffle in the back, and the door slams.  
"How much has she had to drink?" He asks Sev. In the review mirror I see Sev's shoulder shrug.
"I'm guessing a fair bit." Sev's eyes shift to mine, and I look away.
"Skye, I don't appreciate being called in the middle of the night to be your taxi driver." Andrews voice cuts. My jaw tenses.
"If you were there you wouldn't have been." I reply. I see Sevs lips twinge up.
Andrew pulls on the road and starts the way home.
"Hey you should be happy I'm even here now." He spits.
"Oh, I'm thrilled."
"God Skye." he mumbles. "I just don't care about music."
"Do you care about me? Because music is a big part of me." I say, my head flipping to him.
"Oh c'mon. Its music." He replies, his head flipping right back.
"You don't get it." my voice slurs again. Ugh.
"Look, I'm sorry okay." He says after about five minutes of silence. Sev sits with a hard expression on his face. "I... I just wanted you to myself, and not share you with a whole club. That's all babe."   His hand rests high on my thigh, massaging it. Behind me Sev scoffs.
"Shut up robo." Andrew snaps. My head whips to Andrew.
"Don't call him that." Andrews eyes remain on the road.
"Leave it alone Skye." Sev mumbles. Not defeated, not small, but emotionless.
"What the hell is with this guy anyway? Why is he even here?" Andrew says, his mouth much more expressive then in conversations past.
"He's my friend." I reply firmly. I feel my body retract as I say it. I don't know if I can call Sev a friend.
Andrews face scrunches together and looks at me oddly.
"Why did you take on charity case?" He says, ignoring Sev. Anger swells, and I blurt out something I know I will regret.
"He lives with me." Sev's head whips to look at me, and his jaw drops a little. Andrew stops for a read light and turns to both of us.
"What your doing my girlfriend? That your game?" Andrew yells/
Sev laughs, " Interesting, that's not what you called her today."
 The car dives an at an alarming speed, reaching our house.
"Careful Skye, Screw him enough and your kids will be transformers." He smiles a bit at his own joke and revs the car, reaching our drive way.
"You're an idiot Andrew." I spit.
"And you're a slut." He shouts back. My neck cranes backwards and I feel what seems to be a goofball rise in my throat. Hurt feels my senses, and the sharp inhale of air alerts Andrew of what he has said. No remorse fills his face.
I hear Sev's car door slam, as I didn't notice he left. A few seconds later mind opens, and Sev's arms forcefully pick me out of the car.
"Thanks for the ride prince charming, I'll look after the princess." The car door shuts harder then i though humanly possible. The car speeds away pumping loud music down the street before it fades away.
"What a keeper." Sev mumbles. "You okay?" He says, his arm gentle on mine.
I stare at him a  few seconds, his face is menacing, passionate, but there is a softness about it he reserved just for me.
"Fine." I choke out.
Chapter 20: Sev's POV
"I can't believe you let him talk to you like that!" I exclaim to Skye, shouldering the door open to let her inside. She seems to be slightly sobering up, because she shoves past me in typical Skye fashion into the dark house. She even manages to hit the light switch herself on the first try, illuminating the entryroom of the house. Without a word, she crosses the room to the couch and buries her face in a pillow. Only then do her shoulders start shaking and the sounds of her sobbing fill the room. I don't know what to do, but for some reason I find myself sitting next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and slowly easing the prosthetic one around her and pulling her into an awkward hug. 
"I'm- so- sor-ry," she chokes in the most broken voice I've ever heard. Her head is still buried in the pillow, and I gently pull it away with my prosthetic. I flinch at the gears clicking inside, remembering Andrew's harsh comments. 
"Hey, it's alright, Skye. It wasn't your fault. It's okay, it's okay," I tighten my arm around her, trying to make the gesture as platonic as possible while still comforting her. I whisper over and over that it's okay, until finally she stops crying so hard.
"I shouldn't have let him talk to you like that, Sev. He was just tired and fed up and...and...I'm not sure," she says, shaking her head back and forth, wiping the tear streaks off her face.
"Don't defend him," I say forcefully before I can even stop the words, "He was way out of line, treating you and me like that."
Skye tries to conjure up a scowl, but her face droops into a look of resigned hurt. It crosses my mind that I just spoke negatively about her boyfriend, which meant bad news for me, usually. However, I can't shake the feeling that this time is different. She turns her head to look up at me, and I catch a flicker of something in her entrancingly blue eyes. Skye shakes her head again, then places it against me, half on my shoulder and half on my chest. 
We stay that way for a while, and I'm almost drifting off to sleep when I hear her mutter sadly. "This always happens."
I lean away, allowing her to pull her head back. "What always happens?" I inquire, as she fixes her disheveled hair. 
"Every time I trust someone, it goes wrong, and something happens, and they leave, and I'm alone," she says loudly in a single breath, hardly pausing during the sentence. 
I'm taken aback. A lot of words describe Skye, but "alone" wouldn't be the first one I'd choose. "I'm sure that's not true. Andrew's not just going to leave you," I can almost taste the falseness in my tone. I know perfectly well he's using her, and I know Skye didn't believe me, and she probably isn't going to. 
To my surprise, she springs to her feet, slightly unsteady still from the liquor. "Of course he is!" she yells at me, running her hands through her hair, leaving it sticking up oddly, "Why wouldn't he?! Everyone! Every single person just LEAVES!"
Her hysterics have brought the tears back to her eyes, and they spill over freely. I almost shrink away. Is this just the liquor talking? Skye wasn't that drunk though. All the same, my heart fills with empathy. I've known the lonesomeness that Skye's screaming about, so instictively, I pull her into my arms again. Whatever she says next is muffled against my shirt as I hold her there, trying to communicate that I wouldn't leave her. I won't leave her, because I know what it's like to be left like that. Alone and afraid, with seemingly no one to turn to. I hold her tightly, holding my real hand against her head, my own head pressed against her shoulders.
I won't leave her. I'll be there for her. I won't leave Skye. Because here and now, in the early morning, in this room, we're both the same.
Skye's 21.
I'm sure the last thing Sev wants to do, in the middle of the night, is comfort a sobbing girl with relationship issues. My mind begs me to push him off, return to a stoic pose that makes me seem stronger then I am. But it's to far gone, I'm to fragile to pick myself up again, and besides. Every time I say to myself "Okay, now I'll let go" My arms only tighten around Sev's waist. I eventually decide I'll let go when he does, but he doesn't. We remain there in a soft sway for the better part of ten minutes. I'm not crying anymore, but Sev's grip is still tight, and his breaths still slow and calming. Eventually, however, he moves enough so my face can see his. His face searches my eyes for a reply to the question his body is asking. I nod, he steps back and I feel like I've lost a part of myself. Sev looks just as awkward. He straightens out his shirt, and scratch the back of his head. I stand my right arm gripping my left elbow.
After a few more tense seconds I turn around, wipe my eyes, and start on making the fire. I don't really have a plan, just that I need my hands to be busy. My shaking fingers scrunch up the paper tightly and place it in the recently cleaned pit. A few moments later, a silent Sev joins my side and places thin twigs the size of my pinkie on the paper. He work in unison for a few minutes, predicting each others moves, and proceeding accordingly. My body feels weak from the crying, and my emotions are torn. I don't want to sleep, it would just remind me of how empty blackness feels. And I cant exactly ask Sev to be anymore there for me that he has tonight. Especially since we are "Only housemates."
The fire is lit, and I'm sitting with my legs crossed in front of it, warming my fingers. Sev kneels beside me. I offer a small thank you, he nods with a polite smile.
I like it when Sev offers any smile. But the ones he offers up on the most rare occasions are the most beautiful ones I've known. Like when I implied we were an item to Oliver, Sev gave me a boyish smile that made him look like a rock star. They are cheeky, fun, and my goal tonight is to just get one more of them from him.
I crawl to the DVD cabinet to my left, and find the disc I have in mind. The cover is cold in my hands as I hand it to him.
"Would you like to know what effects our offspring will have on the world?" Sev looks curious at me, and then holds the dvd to the light. His mouth forms that beautiful smile I could look at forever as he reads the title "Transformers."
"Absolutely" He replies, displaying a full set of white teeth.
I grab the case, and take the disc out being careful not to touch the underside.
Sev makes his way to the hallway, bringing back a thick blanket and laying it on the couch. Once the disc is in, I make my way to the alcohol cabinet craving a drink, I hear Sev's voice come from alarmingly close behind me. Maybe right over my shoulder.
"Is that really necessary." My fingers stop for a moment, taking in the cold voice. I sigh, and turn around. He is much closer then I expected, if I was inclined, my lips could touch his with barely a strain from my neck. He offers a knowing look, and turns back around, I follow him, liquoirless. I switch off the lights and sit on one side of the couch, Sev sits on the other hardly. It feels odd, only a few moments ago so close to each other, now, so distant.
"Have you seen this?" I ask. He shakes his head.
"Well, prepare for a lot of explosions and very little plot build up." I press play on the home screen.
Sev kicks his feet on the coffee table and leans back.
"Just how I like it." I giggle.
Half way though the movie, I'm almost sure we both feel it. Sleepy eyes try to obstruct our view and relaxed muscles sleep all on there own. Sev's keeps glancing to me, and I glace to him, each time we turn away.
Eventually, it's Sev who surprises me.
"This is ridicules." He motions, He fixes the blanket so there is room for me and his legs are laying to the side. "C'mon." He mutters, with a sure look on his face. I smile, and hesitantly, I crawl into the spot he has prepared for me. I lay on his good arm, and I feel his chest strong on my back. He puts his arm Maniacal  around me in a surprisingly comfortable hug, no one has ever cuddled me before I fell asleep like this.
I cant help but feel a smile play on my lips and a warmth in my heart as Sev's warm voice whispers in my ear from above.
"Goodnight Skye."
Chapter 22: Sev's POV
The thing about falling asleep on the couch in Skye's living room is that the morning sunlight shines right through the closed blinds and into any occupant's eyes. Or eye, to be particular. 
At some point during the night, the movie must've ended, no doubt with large explosions and heroic sacrifices, because now the main menu runs on a constant loop, playing the repetitive theme music.
I try to stand up and turn off the DVD player before finding that Skye is still asleep next to me. Apparently the sunrise didn't wake her up like it had done to me, and because of the events of last night, I decide to settle in and let her sleep longer. The small movement makes her stir slightly, mumbling a bit in her sleep.
Please don't wake up nononono- I stop my train of thought abruptly. There's nothing wrong with me letting her sleep on me a bit longer is there? Considering that we did spend the entire night close together on one couch, if it had been awkward one of us would've said something, right? I really hope Skye thinks the same, because with a boyfriend as jealous and almost as scary as her, I really don't want to give either of them the wrong idea about how I feel about her. Which would be easier if I knew how I feel about her.
"Mm-Sev?" grumbles Skye from next to me, "What time is it?"
I groan inwardly, angry at myself for waking her earlier than I planned. "It's pretty early, Skye," I say quietly, almost having ro physical restrain my fingers from brushing a few stands of blonde hair into place, "Why don't you try and get some more sleep?"
I move to extricate my arms from around her, but instead of laying against the arm of the couch, she curls closer to me, putting her arms around my midsection to keep me still. I suck in a breath, deciding to be the good person instead of the arguably more happy person, and gently yet firmly I take Skye's arms off of me. She doesn't seem to notice, instead flopping down and laying awkwardly on the couch. I grab a blanket a pull it over her slowly, with a good bit of remorse. 
*******
Skye actually gets up about an hour later, after I've already cleaned up and made some mediocre pancakes. She walks over to the kitchen, smelling the food,and I almost laugh when I see her.
"Something funny, Sev?" she says, glowering at me over her plate of pancakes.
"No. Nope. Just uhm, you might want to just fix your hair a bit," I say awkwardly. It is truly messed up, matted and sticking up where she was sleeping on it. 
She shoots me a smirk that makes her eyes twinkle somehow, even with the dim lighting in the kitchen. "I'll have you know that it's the latest fashion, everyone's wearing their hair like this." Even though she adds fake malice to her words, she combs her fingers through her hair, straightening and flattening most of it. All of a sudden a heavy silence fills the room, like both of us want to say something but neither of us want to be the first. 
"Look, Skye, I'm sorry if last night was weird bu-" I begin, before Skye interrupts me.
"I'm going to Andrew's place soon," she says, setting her fork down. I practically choke on air. They're both going to kill me. This is how I die, I think.
"Y-y-you're gonna what?" I sputter, backing up against the counter.
She nods at me, determination set in her features. "No one treats me or my friends like how he did without getting chewed out about it later," she proclaims, standing up, "Don't burn the house down while I'm gone." She saunters back to her room, and I soon hear her shower running.
No one treats me or my friends like that. Skye called me her friend, a title I haven't earned in years. 
But why does it make me so miserable that she did? 
== chapter idk.. Skye's pov ==
chap
This is not how it is supposed to happen. My stupid housemate is ment to make me upset, and im ment to go to andrew for support. Not the other way around.
Granted, I shouldn't have spent the night in Sev's arms, but andrew was quite possibly the worst display
Of a boyfriend I have ever seen.
And that's saying something.
So I plan to make how I feel very clear.
After i shove on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and A black high waisted shirt I let my wet hair out and grab my back pack.
 
As im crossing the stairs to the door I hear sev call out from the kitchen.
"Ah Skye, I was gunna do a food shop before school-" He doesn't have to say much else as I pick out 100 bucks from my wallet and throw it on the coffee table. At once I walk out the front door and turn my nose up at my car. I dont want to drive today, I want to ride. I press the black button attached to a Skull keyring as the roller door slowly lifts exposing my lage garage. In it is my baby. I walk in to the garage and with two fingers I lift up my black biker boots, and my thick helmet. Putting them on I stare at my beauty. A 1998 Eletrca glide Harley Davison stares at me, It's hot red exterior looking white in the sun. She may not be the best model out, but damn get her going and she is one hot ride. I lift my leg over her, and kiss the barr attached to my right handle.
"Lets Go babe." I whisper. I kick start her and she purrs with anticipation. Its been a while since I rode her, and I can feel her body fill with excitement. I rev her a few times, letting her warm up. Behind me sev stand in the doorway, a impossibly sexy smirk lining his mouth.
"Of course you have a bike!" He yells above the reving. Before snapping my black visior over my eyes, I give him a wink, and he chuckles a little, his touge licking his lips. Thoughly excited by his reaction, I take off at an impossible speed, and wave him good bye at the end of the street.
 
The path I go down isn't a Main Street, or even a back one. The dirt surrounds the bike as I thank my helmet for providing my eyes protection. I made this path a few years ago when first got the bike. Sure I had to cut down a few fences and a cow or two might have strayed, but mostly it covers the outskirts of the town/suburb I live in, doing a full loop. The farmland I ride on, my heart pumping as the bike reaches new speeds, will eventually lead me to a Main Street that Andrews house lies. 
When I pull in i make sure to put my extra grumpy face on flicking my left foot over the bike and patting her goodbye. My Helmet tucked under my arm, I make my way up the many steps to the front door and bang on the freshly painted door three times. After some time, a small framed woman which I being Short even tower over in height answers the door. She wears a disgusting light shade of yellow cardigan which rests on a blinding white high cut top. 
'Can I help you?' Her eyes, the same breathtaking shade of green as Andrew look me up and down. 
'Ya hi. Is Andrew here?' I crane my neck to see past her shoulder and she stands a little taller puffing her chest out.
'What is this concerning?' She asks formally. 
'Im his girlfriend and in here to screw him' I lie. What can I say? I like to shock people. She stands with her mouth wide open and her body deflated. I pop my bubble gum.
'Look imma let you process the fact your son is defiled and cook up a way to teach him to keep it in his pants and I'll just go right on up' I state. I push past her a abit where she still stands in awe in the doorway. 
I remember some of the interior of the house from my dunked nights, but I recognise Andrews door straight away. I kick it open with force fuelled by anger. When Andrew doesn't wake up in his sprawled position on the sheets, I kick the bed, it ends up rolling more then I expected, hitting the bedside table where a beer bottle smashes on his hardwood floors. He jumps at the crash and his eyes release some of the tension and alert when he sees my face. 
'
Jeez Skye! What the hell!' He says perturbed. 
'Oh sorry did I wake you?' He shakes his head his brow furrowed. Wearing no clothes he sheepishly grabs his jeans I recognise from last night and puts them up quickly, the whole time I stare him down. When he's all put together, he has a chance to look me up and down. 
'Is this my peace offering for last night?' He says, edging a little closer. 
'What?' I say confused.
'Are we playing hot biker chick and policeman?' He laughs a little wrapping his arms around me, his bands gripping my butt. My arms thrust him forward.
'No you idiot. I'm mad at you.' I say plainly. He rolls his eyes.
'Its to early for this Skye,' he mumbles, his body laying back in his king sized bed. My body ticks thinking about how many girls have been in there... I shake my head.
'So then you will be able to apologise and we can move on?' I say. He sighs.
'Why would I? I'm sure last night finally gave you to opportunity to screw iron man guilt free, what more do you want?' He asks, adding a lethargic yawn for effect. 
'For the last bloody time,' I say walking over to him, standing at his knees. 'Im not doing Sev.' I say. He nods obviously not believing me. I sigh and try this new approach everyone's been talking about. Kindness.
I lay on top on him, my legs matching his and our eyes meeting. He looks at me plainly. 
'Im only interested in you.' I kiss him gently on the mouth 'and that's the truth' I smile softly. He smiles back after a while, and brushes a stray hair from my face. 
'Then, I'm very sorry my girl.' He smiles, pulling me in for a kiss. His lips meet mine and try explore everything they can before he pulls back and smiles again. 
'I'm sorry to, for making you pick me up so late.' I say, he laughs and rolls me over so now he's on top Of me, I giggle a little. 
'Anything for you.' he says, kissing my collar bone. 
'Do you think you could stop calling Sev names? I'm pretty sure he's not very thick skinned and they hurt him.' He laughs a little.
 'What even is his name?' 
'Sev' I reply simply trying not to let a sigh escape from my mouth.
'No I mean his last name, Sev what?' I think about the question. 
'Im not sure' I say eventually.
'Some friends you are' his voice is muffled as he sucks on my neck, and shivers are sent though my body. 
'Hey! I bet you don't even remember my last name.' I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist. 
'I can't forget that!' He expresses. I stop letting his warmth consume my thoughts for a second. I lift him up a little so his looking at me. 
'What do you mean you can't forget it?' I ask. His face reads false confusion. 
'Well I mean, it's the name imma change one day. It's important' he says rather convincingly. But his tone and face are much less steady then his argument. I take a second to look at his room properly remembering something I saw earlier. In his room three posters line the walls. Two of some very fancy looking cars, and one of a man who is obviously familiar standing becide a V8 racecar. I sigh as my face bears down.
'You know about Reynolds automotives.' I conclude. He remains silent. I sit up, unhooking myself from him. He sits behind me, his extra large hands on my shoulders.
'Okay I do.' He confesses. I stand up quickly collecting my helmet. 
'Cmon Skye, but that's not the reason I like you!' He exclaims. I shake my head trying to push back the tears. My heart crumbles and my dishevelled hair speaks only to how I'm feeling. I put back on the boots that I managed to kick off while I ways laying on Andrew, all the while avoiding eye contact. 
'You were just trying to get a contract with him I'm sure, maybe to just meet him. It was a great plan though. Good job, maybe the most you've had to use your mind ever!' I spit. 
'Cmon Skye.' He grips my arm. 
'No!' I whip my hair around before I make it to the door. 'No. He told me you would use me' I say, my eyes stinging dangerously. 
'He told me you were gunna hurt me. Sev knew it all along! But I defended you' my voice cracks. It grows into a sob and defeated cry as I choke out 'I defended you' 
It was an even quicker ride home.
Category:Romance
Category:Realistic Fiction
Category:Rewrite