I'll just post this super long chapter of my story here, because it makes more sense than trying to explain it, eh chicas?
Any questions may be asked. What I'm looking for is feedback, does it make sense to someone who has no idea who these people are, etc.
“And join them with you, like a rib of steel, to make strength stronger...”
Setting:
Justin is in a Trenton slum, having recently finished high school. He has no idea how to escape his marijuana habits, as they are the only way he can escape the emotional pain around him. He can't find a job and is living in a hovel. He decides one day to end his life, but then discovers his self-healing when he feels regret and is left with a feeling he should be making a difference in this world. He hitchhikes to eventually Chicago, running into Angela, who is waitressing at a dive. He follows her after work, because he feels concern for her. This chapter is in mostly his POV (third person).
Justin came into the dive with his last three dollars on impulse. Checkered cloths covered the tables in places, but there were mostly holes. An old dusty clock was a half-hearted attempt at décor, and the glass windows had street dirt on them that had failed to be washed. It was the kind of place his mother had worked at, which might have explained why he was drawn to the place. But in later years, he would swear it was fate.
He sat down at the table expecting a surly server, maybe a ham-handed overweight waitress. But the red-apron wearing teenager that came up to Justin was anything but. She took his order of coffee and fries with no comment, staring at the red booth with torn stuffing instead of him. But just once she met his gaze, and he saw haunted emotions in there, out of place in one so young and long blonde hair in a pony tail but the bangs still hid her light blue eyes. Those were eyes that were far too young and nice to be so tired-looking. Her whole demeanor was that of a person that was afraid of others. He had a stray thought that she was also afraid of herself. It disturbed him more than it should.
As her nursed his lukewarm coffee, he noticed that she was also a very attractive woman, but with concern rather than lust. She was curved, too thin of course, but pretty and pale and fragile. There would be ones who would want to break her.
Remembering his self-healing, he suddenly knew that he had to protect this girl. Maybe she was one of the ones he had to save.
What am I, a minister?
But he slowly waited, taking up the booth for longer than he should have, earning the glare of the manager when he didn’t budge until the girl he’d watched collected her meager tips and walked out.
He went out the door, trying not to be too obvious that he was following her. They met up at the sidewalk.
"What are you doing here?" she didn't scream, run, or turn around. Angela knew that he’d watched her, but the expression was not hostile or leering. It was one of concern, and with the first sign of weakness he’d felt in months, she wanted someone to feel concern for her. Wanted to know that another human being cared whether she lived or died. Oh, he was talking... his voice was deep and baritone and handsome... as was the rest of him. She desperately tried not to ogle him as she registered what he spoke. She tried to hide her attraction by waiting for an answer. And she was- anything for him to speak again. What am I thinking?
"Good question. But here, specifically?" He was suddenly aware that he hadn't shaved in a while. He wondered if he looked like a druggie. Well, he was an ex-druggie. And a current hobo- Holy Mother, what the f(lower) was he doing here? Why was he trying to help her? He barely knew her. But it wasn’t as though he could offer anything to her, no money, and no way out of her life, nothing more than some base protection against a few lowlifes. But she was waiting for an answer, so he said, "I want to help you."
She crossed her arms. They were from such different worlds, he realized. She was white, pretty, blue-eyed, shy, and clearly didn't belong working her feet to the bone in a dive. Most likely a runaway from the suburbs. He didn't have any idea where to start, so he looked up at the sky and asked for guidance in his head. It hadn't helped Mama, but he couldn't stop the reflex.
"What makes you think I need help?" she said, trying to be tough. His chest got kind of tight when she did that, because it was a wonder she hadn't been assaulted on her way back from work. The stray thought got his blood boiling, which was weird as hell but it had been so long since he'd felt any emotions that he welcomed it.
She had begun to walk away, not showing her reluctance, but then Justin said impulsively, "May I walk you home?" He felt like a normal teenager on a date all of a sudden, which didn’t make any sense. She blushed, making him hope she was having similar thoughts (because being the only one to have them would sure as hell be even more pathetic), and replied, “Yes.”
Angela knew she shouldn't let him walk her home, but she fell into step all the same. But he looked harmless. No weapons. And it wasn't as though anything short of fifty quick-thinking soldiers could lay a finger on her. And besides... it had been so long since she'd felt real emotion, not just the manufactured kind, the kind she should feel. And it was pleasant, being with him. He said softly, "I'm Justin Chase."
She smiled shyly. "I'm Angela Strong." On impulse, hands found each other as they walked cautiously down the cracked sidewalk of the bad neighborhood, hearing people yelling at each other in English and other languages through window- even in this ghetto, life went on. The silence was comfortable, like they were old friends. Angela held open the door as they walked up the steps of her broken-down apartment building. Then she let him into her apartment building, pausing as she moved to unlock the door to her hovel. Then she came to a decision. She was so desperate for company, and he needed food. He looked muscular, wiry, but nothing more than that over bone. He looked shocked for a minute that she would trust him in that way, then recovered and went in, prowling her space a bit like a stray cat. But Dear God, he looked good.
Removing his jacket, she saw he was wearing nothing but battered corduroys. Suddenly, Angela was aware of an animal attraction deep in her bones. That was new. Emotions could be good, she was slowly discovering. She shuddered with lust as she put on the pot for coffee, a sigh rippling through her back as his scent hit her- clean shirt and soap, nothing else but him. She turned around to let the coffee boil and he kissed her, needing to taste those beautiful lips.
She nearly fell to the floor in shock at the pleasure surging through her veins. So this is what it's like to have the fire gnaw at your stomach. So this is what it's like to grab on and never let go because, by God, if I do, I'll never feel like this again, I'll never feel at all... She moaned as he sucked on her neck. It was a beautiful moment interrupted in the worst of all ways, with a violent dropping of a door and the bang of a metal crack, reminding Angela that humanity’s worst enemy was itself.
A gunshot echoed through the door of the next door apartment, a door banged and a guttural curse was heard and then footsteps echoed around until her hollow door rocked back and forth. Justin jumped in front of Angela, moving his body as a shield as she desperately tried to get around him; she was better equipped to defend herself. But Justin’s plan was better than what she’d thought of. He grabbed her and they sprinted to the fire escape. Without thinking, they hurried down the steps and were panting for breath as police sirens zoomed down the street in front of the building.
They didn't stop running until the pair came to a halt at a dilapidated park bench several blocks away. The adrenaline rush got to her, and she kissed him until she had no breath. They broke away, gasping for breath, until he removed her nametag jacket despite the slightly crisp spring air and kissed his way across her collarbone. Then they traced each other's faces, as though memorizing them.
"Angela," he whispered. Only it sounded a little like Angel.
"Justin Chase," she smiled, tremblingly. Then they kissed, by mutual agreement, soft and sweet despite what was happening around them.
Then she began to hum a little. "What's that?" he asked. She blushed, and turned away. He gently turned her back toward him. "Sing to me," he pleaded.
"Well, he doesn't look a thing like Jesus..." she began. Her voice matched her name. "But he talks like a gentleman, the kind you imagine when you were young." She sang through it, her voice coming from lips he had just kissed.
"You are so beautiful," he managed when the angel was done singing. "So beautiful," he murmured, tracing the side of her face.
She only blushed in response, but her eyes were in love.
Suddenly, he asked, “How old are you?”
She blushed, which told him more than her answer. “Sixteen. And you?”
“Seventeen,” he replied, skimming her neck with his lips.
She relaxed, either from his lips or his answer. He chuckled low in his throat as she wrapped her arms around his waist and let him stroke her bright blonde mane of hair. She felt as though she’d know Justin for years, as though she’d wanted him, needed him for her entire life... as though she’d liked him, admired him forever...
Justin held his Angela waiting for something to happen, for the yellow police tape reading CAUTION to get taken down so she could have some place to spend the night other than the old bench in a park full of drug dealers. But as the late evening wore on into night, she said slowly, “Maybe we should get a room for the night.” He nodded, trying to ignore his seventeen-year-old impulses, to concentrate- as Mama had put it- on his good intentions. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” came to mind, but he ignored it as they waited at a bus stop.
They took the subway to a Motel 7. The counter lady quirked an eyebrow, but there was no ID check as they came up to a room Angela had paid for. It turned out to be a one-bedroom, all she could barely afford.
NO THERE IS NOT A LEMON (SEX SCENE) IN THE NEAR FUTURE.
I hope that was approiate to post, feel free to hunt me down if it was not.
Please be honest with your comments.
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