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bellarke-addict · 7 years

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A short conversation

Canon-Divergent. Kane tries to help Bellamy and Clarke along.

The first time Kane had seen Octavia had been in the Earth Skills class, she had been the last one to walk through the door, so hesitant, so unsure of herself.

Since landing on Earth, she had grown into a brave, fierce woman. A true warrior.

So, when he hears her cry out in terror, he finds himself racing across Ton DC, darting around the grounders in his way, towards the large bonfire and nearly colliding with her as she scrambles backwards.

He puts his hands on her shoulders and positions her behind him, looking for the source of the threat and only finding Lincoln.

Who was laughing.

And holding a baby.

“I have never seen you move that fast,” he cries, his shoulders shaking as he bends over slightly, both hands holding the child against his chest,

“Not even when your life depended on it.”

Octavia is shorter than Kane, so she can’t speak over his shoulder but she makes no move from behind his back,

“At least I don’t endanger the lives of children.” she shouts and Kane has no idea what is going on.

He looks to the others sitting around the bonfire and sees the Trikru are amused and the Skai-kru confused.

“Every member of the clan is expected to care for our young,” Lincoln explains,

“It takes a village to raise a child.”

Sound and interesting wisdom, Kane wonders if he could ask Indra about this but he can’t see her right now and the baby in question is beginning to fret.

“Here,” Bellamy says, standing up and making his way around the bonfire to Lincoln’s side, “Give her to me.”

Lincoln clearly hesitates and Bellamy looks offended,

“Come on,” he protests, “Who do you think raised O?”

Lincoln raises an eyebrow, “Are you trying to convince me or threaten me?”

“It’s either him or me,” Octavia calls from behind Kane’s back, “And only one of us has actively tried to keep kids alive.”

Lincoln sighs but holds out the baby as she utters a weak cry and Bellamy picks her up with a confidence that Kane would not feel, he cradles her in his arms and the baby snuffles before turning her head to his chest and settling down.

Bellamy smirks and sits back down on the log, leaning back slightly as Jasper and Monty on either side began looking at the baby.

“Don’t poke her,” he warns Jasper, just as the young man’s index finger approached the baby’s cheek, “She’s not a toy.”

“She looks squishy,” he coos, his finger being captured and squeezed, “And soft.”

Kane feels a push on his back and looks over his shoulder to see Octavia’s hands flat against his jacket,

“Are you using me as a human shield?” he asks, fighting the urge to laugh and she glares at him,

“You wanted to be part of the family?” she challenges, “That means protecting us.”

Her voice is deliberately low so that she won’t be overheard, but the physical closeness between the two of them isn’t missed by watching eyes.

Bellamy had been the first of the siblings to be emotionally open with Kane and physical affection soon followed. Light touches on the shoulder or arm when either one was leaving the camp and anything deeper was reserved for when the young man was injured in some manner.

Roughly every third day.

Octavia had been more hesitant, more resisting and shying away whenever Kane reached for her. Now, however, she was walking them both to the bonfire, and settling herself down as far away from the baby as possible, glaring at her brother,

“She comes anywhere near me, I’m going to defend myself.” She warns and Bellamy tilts his head back in amusement,

“Octavia Blake, killer of giant lake slugs, second to Indra kom Trikru, terrified of an infant who can’t lift her own head yet.”

“Oh, as if I’m not the entire reason you aren’t scared of babies.” She replies and the two of them share a look unknown to the rest of Skai-kru,

“Yeah you are.” He admits and then shifts away from Jasper who had begun reaching for the baby’s cheek again.

The call goes up that riders are approaching and Kane starts to climb to his feet, in unison with Octavia and a few of those around the campfire on watch that night.

“Hod op!” The watchman calls down, “It’s Wanheda.”

Striding towards the gate as it opens, Kane catches a glimpse of Clarke’s distinctive blonde hair as she canters through on a horse, pulling up and dismantling with a clumsy drop.

He reads exhaustion in every line of her body as she tugs down the hood of her cloak and he reaches for her backpack before she can pick it up,

“Hey,” she greets, past a yawn, “We’re still at peace.”

He grins, “Good,” he murmurs, “You did well.”

He jerks his head, leading her towards the fire and as they approach he sees the bags under her eyes, “Have you eaten?”

She nods, “There was a feast, I could barely get on the horse.”

What he was about to say next was cut off by the sound of Bellamy laughing and they look over to see him smiling.

Kane had never seen him smile like this, with clear eyes and teeth showing, real happiness visible there.

And beside him, Clarke drew a ragged breath.

Kane allowed her a moment before facing her, but was still rendered momentarily speechless by the sheer longing in her expression.

So tender and heartfelt.

He thinks that she’s simply unable to hide her feelings but when she catches his eye and gives him a quick embarrassed smile, he realises that she trusts him enough to let him read her emotions.

For her sake, he would pretend that there was still a soul left in Arkadia, Ton DC or Polis who wasn’t aware how deeply Bellamy and Clarke cared for each other.

It was the worst kept secret Kane had ever encountered.

Still, Clarke was a young woman, so he reached out and touched her arm,

“We can discuss politics in the morning,” he murmurs encouragingly, “Go sit down.”

She bites her cheek but he’s guiding her as gently as he can without making it obvious and they’ve barely taken three steps before Bellamy stands and ambles over to them.

“You’re back.” he offers as greeting and Clarke nods, the two of them both running their eyes over the other, looking for injury before they resume conversation,

“We at war?” he asks and she shakes her head, “No, how’s the winter preparations going?”

“No,” Kane interrupts, “It’s late, we can plan tomorrow, you two need rest.”

Bellamy gives him a bewildered glance, “We’re fine.”

Kane raises his eyebrows, wondering how these two could be so inept.

Perhaps his own inability to flirt was contagious?

“Clarke is falling asleep on her feet and you just handed an innocent, defenseless child to Jasper Jordan and Monty Green,” Kane points out,

“Neither of you are in any state to be working right now.”

Bellamy’s eyes widen with horror and he looks over his shoulder to see that Lincoln was hovering nervously as Monty clutched the baby and Jasper leaned towards it, opening and closing his mouth with a snap of his teeth.

“We should probably…” Clarke begins as they two of them hurry over, moving in sync as Bellamy rescued the baby from the boys who cleared a space so she could sit down.

Not that the space provided stopped her from sitting so close to Bellamy that they were practically joined from the shoulder down to their boots.

Kane crossed his arms and watched Bellamy as Clarke held her hands out to the fire, shuddering and staring into the flames as she warmed up. His expression mirrored the one she had worn on her face barely a minute or two beforehand.

How could two people care about each other so much and not act on it?

How could they resist?

Octavia joins him, shifting so she could follow his line of sight and snorts,

“Yeah, they’re idiots,” she speaks as if having guessed his question,

“It’s never going to happen at this rate.”

He hums in agreement, “Lincoln and I have watch.” she tells him, and he nods,

“Be careful.” He murmurs, absently, as she stalks off.

As trusted allies, Skai-kru are allowed to sleep inside the walls of Ton DC, and Kane is given a place in Indra’s hut, a bed next to hers, which was the greatest show of faith that he could ask for.

He knew that Octavia and Lincoln were bedding down with Nyko, Clarke was in the healing hut, on call if anyone needed medical attention, and the rest of his people had been quartered wherever there was room. Still, as they were mostly young and drunk, he does a round to make sure they were actually sleeping and not causing trouble.

He also wanted the chance to speak with Bellamy.

The young man was outside the walls, asleep in the rover, by choice as he preferred to sleep alone if he wasn’t on duty.

When Kane approaches, he sees the back of the vehicle lit up by one of the lamps and Bellamy is lying down but holding a book.

He doesn’t open the trunk, instead opening the back door and leaning in over the seat,

“What are you reading?” he asks curiously, and the young man holds up the cover for him to see.

“I didn’t know we had that.” Kane comments as he reads the title.

“We didn’t,” Bellamy replies, “Clarke found it in the tower in Polis and lifted it when no-one was looking.”

Kane smirks, trying to imagine Abby’s daughter committing theft and finding it all too easy.

For previously law-abiding members of Alpha station, the Griffin women had a talent for criminality that would have impressed the black marketeers of the Ark.

He hesitates, having come to Bellamy with a purpose but finding himself suddenly uncertain. The young man looks relaxed, unguarded in that moment which was so rare for him.

“I…uh…” Kane clears his throat, scratching his eyebrow with his thumbnail,

“I wanted to speak to you about…Clarke.”

Bellamy frowns slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Abby send you?”

No.

“Has she sent interrogators to you before?” Kane asks, only half-joking as he shifts into the seat, resting his arm along the back as Bellamy shifts onto his elbows,

“Not yet,” he answers, tilting his head, “But I’ve been wondering which of you would come first.”

Kane raises his eyebrows, “You’ve been expecting this?”

Bellamy nods, “For a while now.”

Right. Kane inhales and prepares himself,

“I couldn’t help but notice the way you two were watching each other tonight,” he begins, keeping his voice soft and supportive, “Have you considered telling her how you feel?”

Bellamy ducks his head, hiding his amused smile,

“She knows,” he says, “She’s always known, it’s not like I’ve bothered hiding it.”

The ease with which he gave this revelation impressed Kane, showing an emotional maturity beyond what he expected from someone so young, in spite of everything they had faced together.

“And you know she feels the same?” Kane prompts, and Bellamy sighs, lying back down with his arms behind his head,

“I do, but I also know she’s afraid.”

“Clarke has lost everyone she’s ever loved,” he explains, “She’s afraid to lose me too.”

“Loving you won’t increase or decrease the risk that you could die down here.” Kane points out, and he only shrugs, “If I have to wait for her while she works her way through that fear, then I’ll wait.”

He spoke with such ease and such faith. He was willing to be patient for the woman he loved, something very few would be.

Kane reached over and gripped his knee, “You’re a good man, Bellamy,” he tells him, “You deserve to be happy.”

Because Clarke had fallen asleep by the time Kane reached her, he had put off talking to her about her feelings for Bellamy.

And of course, the next morning, they were distracted.

A band of scavengers attacked the rover, trying to steal it which was pointless considering there were only five people on Earth who could drive stick shift properly and the only one in a twenty-mile radius was injured when they dragged him from the vehicle.

Tri-kru warriors and Skai-kru soldiers came to his aid but not before Bellamy took a blow to the head that left him lying dazed on the ground.

The one who had dealt the blow wound up with a bullet in the thigh.

“Kane!” Bellamy called for him and he was at his side, helping him to stand,

“I’ve got you son,” he swore, as the young man turned his head frantically, “They’re gone.”

“I can’t see,” Bellamy shouted, “I’m blind.”

Clarke was a whirlwind of energy as Kane and Lincoln carried Bellamy into the healer’s hut.

She showed them where to sit him down and took his hand, squeezing it and ordering Lincoln about so quickly that Octavia had to help as well.

“Okay,” she sighed, as she shone the light in his eyes, “Temporary blindness caused by your concussion, you’ll be fine in ten minutes.”

Her tone was one of complete relief and Kane sees the tension drain from Bellamy’s shoulders.

There was no place in this world for a blind man.

Kane kept guard as the scavenger was brought in and Clarke clenched her jaw but carried the medical kit over and examined the wound, glaring at him when he flinched away from her.

“It didn’t pierce anything vital,” she reports, uncapping a bottle of moonshine and pouring it over the man’s flesh, causing him to screech in pain, “I’ll stitch it up.”

The man lost consciousness as Lincoln and Octavia took up watch over him, letting Kane follow Clarke from the hut to the small herb garden where she was wiping fiercely at her eyes. He puts his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently and she managed a weak laugh,

“I wanted to kill him,” she muttered, “I haven’t even kissed Bellamy yet and I want to kill anyone that hurts him.”

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised that Clarke was admitting her feelings to him, but perhaps hearing Bellamy’s testimony of her fear made him expect denials.

Kane supposes that this is a sign of her trust in him.

“The desire to keep him safe, that protectiveness, it’s not going to go away, whether you act on your feelings or not.”

She gives him a shaky nod, sniffing sharply, “I…there’s no going back, if we…I think we’ll be forever.”

There was no such thing as forever.

Not on this merciless Earth, but the belief in it was almost as important.

Gently, Kane turns her to face him and gives her a comforting smile,

“What you and Bellamy have…it is so rare Clarke, that level of trust is such a wonderful foundation to build upon and seeing the two of you when you’re caught up in each other…” he breaks off grinning, “It reaffirms one’s faith in love.”

Clarke laughs quietly, “But no pressure.”

Impulsively, he kisses her forehead, “No pressure.”

That night, he does his best to pretend not to notice when they’re all sitting by the bonfire and Clarke shyly takes Bellamy’s hand, their fingers interlocking together easily and they continue staring into the flames but Kane is sure that this was the start of something new for them.

#bellarke fanfiction

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rockerchick1330 · 7 years

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~ Flower ~ A Chris Cornell fanfiction (Chapter 7)

Hey hey hunnies! So for this chapter, I decided to take a different approach from Star and switch it for Chris’ POV. It should be a little interesting (since the tone would definitely change) and I would appreciate any feedback. Love you all XOX!!!

PS sorry if it’s kinda short xD

Chris POV

From the moment we staggered into my bedroom, it was obvious Susan hadn’t any intentions to go to patronize Star’s band due to personal purposes.

“Star actually-” “God Chris, forget about that homeless child for once!” She harshly interrupted our once casual conversing. I was attempting to ignore the still prominent excitement that hoisted erect in my pants, but she was making it rather difficult.

Considering her religious movements and the way she violently flung her limbs around, I would occasionally grunt and stifle it in my gullet. Though she basically ranted and rattled on about her career situations and often slandered those not of her compatibility, my mind was distant.

I was completely zoned out, reminiscent on only Starlett. The way she moaned my name and begged and overall squirmed in delight beneath me. She became the pinnacle of my sexual fantasies, her innocent, yet fierce, radiance that hypnotically impressed me. That fear that sparked in her mocha eyes when we were disturbed, the way she lusted for me to finish her off.

Her skin was hot, grazing against mine as I felt how plush and soft her lips were. Gentle, pink, rosy with an angelic theme. So perfect, plump and full. Her curvy, sexy body, naked and sprawled out before me like an ancient artifact, a work of art, of well consumed time to sculpt.

It was a dumb assumption to think that I had not been burdened with any remorse then since I was toiling with it. The scenario of nearing an apologetic love making session with one of my several best friends whom I persuaded into the misconduct.

My long time, loved girlfriend then waltzing onto the scene and degrading the sturdy barrier I had built in conviction to have sex with Star. It all cluttered and harassed me more than one could’ve pondered.

The guilt writhing inside of me especially deliberating on how Starlett felt. I hypothesized her aching remorse, regret and self consciousness sinking its teeth into her. She may have gleamed with confidence when nude and in such a compromising position, but I had enough knowledge of her.

She probably repented in agony. I knew she swore and made an oath to herself that she wouldn’t have permitted herself into adultery unless she was certain of her partner’s love for her. That was completely complexed and different. That was fornication frolicking amongst us in the form of love.

“Chris!” “Y-Yes!” I was startled out of my ensuing mental melee when she sneered at me. “Are you even listening to me?” “Wha-” I slightly shook my head and skeptically retorted. “Y-Yeah, of course baby.” Her vivid scowl contorted and softened into the once gentle beam I fell in love with.

Entwining our fingers, I noticed the subliminal message she was probably channeling to me in disguise. Inspecting my bare ring finger and grinning to herself, I cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. “You know, I was actually thinking-” she began, immediately caving a pit of anxiety into my stomach.

“Since we’ve been together for so long,” she insisted on emphasizing our lengthy relationship. “We should get engaged.” I couldn’t quite conjure words or even comprehend her question.

I began inquiring to myself if she had any doubt about our wilting courtship since it was crumbling before us due to unforeseen circumstances.

I furrowed my brows and frowned, earning similar reactions from her. “Susan, are you okay?” She leaned off of my shoulder, propering her slouched posture and grew highly defensive. “Me? What do you mean?” I cleared the hitched breath out of my throat and mumbled, “Well, things haven’t been going so good in our relationship, now, has it?”

She laced her arms across her chest defensively and spat, “Chris! How can you say that?” “Because it’s true,” I blurted with angst and annoyance. I was irritated and frustrated, it was so obvious to the naked eye that we could’ve no longer tolerated one another.

“You can barely handle me and my band, far much for being our manager, and-” I paused abruptly on realizing that I had nearly confessed my real infuriation with her. She gritted her teeth and hissed, “And what? Tell me!”

“Susan just-” “No!” She began bickering. “It’s about that bitch isn’t it? What’s her name? Star?” I groaned and growled in aggravation, snarling harshly, “Can you just shut the fuck up about that bullshit?” She rolled her eyes and rendered, seeping back onto my shoulder with her arms still cross tightly on her chest.

As much as Susan hasn’t any desire to attend to Rated R’s show, I didn’t have to courage to exclude myself from supporting Star. Especially with the encounter we had that afternoon, it was difficult not to seek her company out again.

I knew the only possible way to escape was by hitching a ride with Andy and Xana at the time they were departing, which was approximately around 6:30. Glimpsing at the dusty analog clock that was nailed onto my wall, with careful calculations, it occurred to me that I had only an hour and perhaps a half to distract Susan.

I opted for a more affectionate, promising diversion.

“Su baby-” I began lowly with my breath hot and fanning against her ear. Seeing goosebumps immediately tear across the surface of her skin and her body tense, I smirked. It shouldn’t have been too challenging.

“I’m sorry, I hate it when we fight.” She shrugged and I placed my lips on her pierced earlobe, kissing it persuasively. “Me too,” she admitted, snapping around to face me with glassy, glistening eyes.

Running my thumb along her rather prominent jawline, I brought my lips to her neck with knowledge of warm kisses there being her kryptonite. “I just want things to work,” she sighed, migrating her hand to my loose, messy hair and combing it through with her dainty fingers.

“It will work out,” I lied, tasting the bitterness of the artificial certainty. “Hopefully,” I added under a heavy breath. “It just gets me so angry!” She argued. “Seeing you so close to Star.” My kisses suddenly weren’t of any use, she grew immune to their hypnotic dosage. “I’m not-” “Yes you are!” She rattled. “Even when I came over, you were in her room!”

I felt my windpipe and throat contract, mentally recalling the string of events that happened while I lingered in Star’s bedroom. “Y-Yes, I needed to, uh-” I began stuttering, tripping over my tongue in hesitation. “To what? Stop stammering,” she persisted eargerly.

“T-To remind her about feeding Squigs!” I exclaimed, referring to our relatively new pet then. She narrowed her eyes at me in suspicion. “Really?” I nodded briskly and swallowed hard, avoiding intimate eye contact. “I think-”

I cut her off sharply, slamming my lips onto hers and saving her opinion on what I might have been doing with Star. “I love you,” I sweetly chimed, grasping her hips and manoeuvering her onto my lap. Violently making out with her, I emitted a strained groan when she directly swayed on my inflated boner.

“You’re excited already?” She questioned rather awkwardly instead of jeeringly. “I’m always excited for you baby,” I fibbed, alluring her into my sinister scheme…

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“C-Chris, fuck, not a-again,” she panted with her bare chest heaving. “I-I’m tired.”

“C'mon, one more for me babe,” I persuaded, using her ability to consistently climax to my advantage. “I-I can’t,” she vulnerably whimpered beneath my nude figure. “I’ll help,” I suggested, adjusting the angle of her hips and thrusting rapidly.

Hearing her exhausted moans and cries, I expressed no pity or discretion. “Chris! S-Shit!” I groaned throatily, managing to control my urge to moan out. Her nails felt rigid and harsh digging into my flesh, so much more pressure compared to Star’s feeble, yet precious, grip.

She tightened increasingly around me as the frequency of her moans did the same. My intention was to bring enough fatigue over her until she was out cold, sleeping the rest of the evening out. Enough time for me to flee.

Burying myself to the very hilt, I finally grunted and groaned loudly with my calloused fingertips bruising her skin. Releasing my large, seemingly endless load inside of her, I went limp, unable to continue or do any other pushing.

She wheezed, weak and tired, but I wasn’t finished. I had to ensure her slumber was guaranteed.

“Chris, w-wait-” she breathed when I ejected out and went down on her orally. Earning one final orgasm and scream, I used to back of my palm to wide my mouth of her sticky fluids.

She went flushed, pale and fragile. Yawning after a couple minutes of brief silence, she shifted slightly on the mattress. Assisting my blanket onto her and excusing the damp patches that weren’t visible on it, I commended myself mentally for handling the matter properly.

It didn’t take a lengthy amount of time for her to quickly fall asleep, making it quite simple to depart. Assuring her eyelids were heavy with slumber and barely fluttering, I assumed she mentally let her guard down considering how protective she would usually be.

Her eyes would normally battle with sleep to ensure I wasn’t creeping away. That time, with the heated temperature of my biceps caressing her dainty, slim figure, she was certainly too weak to resist the urging sleep. “I-I love you Chris,” she whispered, briefly pecking my sticky cheek.

My jaw immediately clenched at the trembling pang of iniquity that struck me in my stomach. “I love you too babe,” I murmured, permitting her to shift and fix herself into a preferable, fetal position. Her back shimmered with a thin, sheen layer of sweat as it was directly before me then.

Her spine impressing through her fair, flawless skin, rigid and curved gracefully. Hearing a series of soft snores emit from her, I sighed quietly and lowered myself. Pressing a string of hot, fevered kisses on her arched shoulder, she quivered gently.

Though Susan and I may have abused each other verbally and perhaps emotionally on rare, severe occasions, it was difficult to neglect the positive memories we shared.

A fine example of said memories included when Soundgarden had recently been developed, a four piece of mere teenage guys. No mature adult took us or our original music seriously, but Su did. Being with her, not yet labeling ourselves as a definite couple, she considered us her clients. That instance lead to her managing the group.

People often cocked brows due to our age difference, which had I cared less about then. It was only realizing how our years had completely separated and defined us as two, incompatible individuals, I frowned upon the situation.

It hadn’t been the first time Susan played insecure with me, it occurred in the past also. Whether it be a genuine, female highschool colleague or including even strangers I barely associated with. She would flare and anger herself over hallucinative affairs I was encouraging.

I was innocent until Star came along. She was young and so alluring, it was hard to overlook her beauty. Her unique, tan skin, attractive face and body, her youth. That excitement and energy she harvested, Susan lost that a long time ago.

I knew Su probably noticed the scarring track marks that crawled up my arm, disregarding it. It said a lot about her then, if she did sincerely love me, like Starlett, she would’ve been more concerned. But heroin was just a substance I would’ve soon been abusing, something she hadn’t any business in.

Allowing a couple of minutes to tick by for safety, it was only then I carefully climbed off the bed. My weight heaved the mattress slightly, but not nearly enough for her to arouse from her temporary rest. Swiftly staggering around the room, I searched, still naked, for my boxers.

Finding it tousled amongst Susan’s bra and top, I quickly slipped it on, sharply inhaling when I nearly tripped over a loose seam. I decided in the last moment to just dress outside of the room to avoid any clumsy accidents that wouldn’t most likely happened.

I opted to sneak into Star’s room, just to get dressed and scram. Gently shutting the door of Star’s chambers, I trotted into what used to be a guest bedroom, then personalized and embellished by her. Drawings taped onto the peeling walls, a desk crowded with lined pages and art supplies and her clothes draped over the oddest of places.

Dumping my dark blue, unintentionally distressed denim jeans on her still unmade sheets, I grazed my tongue against my teeth with knowledge of exactly what was responsible for the messy bed. Slipping a couple of my silver, chromatic wrist bands on, I groaned lazily when I ignorantly dropped my studded thumb ring.

Kneeling down, I assumed it tumbled beneath the bed. Raising the loose sheets that cascaded, I scanned the dusty floor for a slight glint. “There you are-” I grasped the stray ring, ignoring the random objects scattered alongside it. One particular singular sheet of paper then caught my attention since the ring had dwelled on its surface.

Using my palm, I slid it out from the dark prison, receiving a dull, blurred image of its content at first. Inspecting it in proper lighting, my eyebrows rose and my lips parted. I was rather impressed, astonished by the pencial portrait signed by Star for ownership.

Her signature consisted of a five pointed star, much like an exaggerated ‘A’ which was rumoured to be the first initial of her birth name. What amused me all the more was that the perfectly executed and shaded drawing was of me.

I supposed she used a magazine clipping as reference since I was familiar with the photoshoot I had done with the results being the same. Charcoal defined the wavy curls of my hair and darkened the depths of my nostrils and dilated pupils as regular pencil led finished the rest.

The autographed date she scribbled wasn’t very late, in fact, she probably completed the piece a mere week ago then. If it wasn’t for the last few rays of the afternoon sun drenching into the room and glimpsing against the thin paper, I wouldn’t have interrogated the lengthy note, hand written, at the back.

In her beautiful, cursive writing, so neat and tidy I spend a few seconds contemplating if it was an original font. Even as I read, her small, soothing voice spoke to me as if she was narrating the entry.

Sometimes I wish I hadn’t met him… Sometimes I wish he hadn’t met her…

The very first line of the note caught me on an anticipated hook.

I can’t bare these sleepless nights any longer with knowledge of him making seemingly endless hours of love to her. Those passion driven, lustful words he growled on her naked skin, degraded and shameless.

I was then sitting on the edge of the mattress, discreetly digesting all the things she mentioned.

What does she have that I don’t? I no longer see beauty or grace when I glimpse at myself in the mirror, all I see are the things I lack to impress him. The way he looks at her even though he claims to have ignored their withering, budding love.

Although everyone whispers to me of his reputed, sincere feelings towards a minor like myself, I have waxed my ears seal. I no longer look up at the stormy sky that bellows with thuder and whips with lightening with an ounce of faith. I know now he has sworn to her, an oath that must have been infidelity to break.

He loves her, he passed me over, he underestimated my concern for him. Yet, I squander hours that I shall never compass once gone on sketching out the face of my oblivious lover. I spend my restless nights writing material that he will never consider reading or reflecting on.

I love him, I love him now, I loved him then, I promise to love him forever. Even though he wipes the bitter dirt that lingers beneath his boots onto me and neglects our personal relation, I will never forsake him. I love him, I love you Chris.

There was that undescribable hollow gap in my chest when I finished comprehending her written composition. I swallowed hard on seeing the rather transparent spots that dotted the page, coming to realize they were dried tears. Tears which she cried for me.

Some of which smudged the black ink and made the paper all the more flimsy. Snapping out of my short daze, I wasn’t allowing the note to slip out of my possession, then I knew how she felt about me.

Finishing my dressing routine, I shrugged my leather jacket on, folding the sheet of paper up and shoving it into my pocket. Lacing my boots up, I suddenly felt remorse for even wearing my Doc Martens due to what she quoted in the note.

Trudging out of the room, I winced when Squiggly barked cheerily at me, wavering her hoisted tail. “Shh!” I placed my index finger over my lips and hushed her, briefly patting her fluffly fur. I crookedly smiled at her nearly empty food bowls, realizing that Star had fed her already.

There were a list of reasons why Starlett was such a good friend, whether it be me convincing her to keep the pup or simply her wise counsel, I knew she was always there for me.

Exiting the apartment and quietly shutting the door, I was immensely startled when I heard a familiar voice wail. “Why so sneaky Cornell?” I snapped around to find Andy, leaning courageously against the rather frail banister and smoking a freshly rolled joint. “Susan’s home and she doesn’t wanna go to the show, so I’m hitching a ride with you asshole.”

He chuckled and took a long drag of the blunt, offering it to me, which I no doubt accepted a couple of pulls. “Xana’s getting ready, so we’ll leave in about fifteen minutes,” he announced with great certainty. “Or an hour, it’s Xana and you know chicks, always fussin’ ‘bout their hair or some other unnecessary shit.” We both laughed in unison, flinching when another voice joined in.

“I heard that Andy!” Xana snarled, barging through the front door then. Her pressure nearly destroying the rusty hinges of the door. “B-Baby! You’re ready, let’s roll,” Andy apprehensively snickered, attempted to ignore Xana’s death glare. I contemplated on discussing what happened between Star and I with him, clearing my throat loudly.

“Hey dude, can I talk to 'bout something in the car?” I inquired as we proceeded to the staircase. “Sure, what’s it about?” I stiffened when both Xana and him glanced back at me. I fiddled nervously with the burnt joint, flinging the remaining quarter over the railing and exhaling a plume of smoke.

“Um, I t-think you probably know.” My eyes signalled to him, giving him our usual code. He grinned widely and snorted. “Hmm, Starry eh?” He chortled, winking at an already smirking Xana…

#chris cornell #soundgarden #pearl jam #90s #grunge #fanfiction

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