After a decade and a year

I finally have the time to post a little taste.

Now. This is from that story I wrote last year, I'd love a vote on how well or bad it was, and if you'd like to see it from start to finish. K!

*********************

" I’m going with you."
Erik ran a hand through his already frumpily black hair for the fourth time that night. A slow, deep sigh escaped his pierced lips.
" You are not going, Christine. That is final."
I raised my eyebrows with a shocked laugh and shook my head disbelievingly.
" You are not my..my mentor, Erik. I can damn well do what I please. I think I’m old enough to have earned the right, thank you."
" Well, I am your boyfriend, and I would really appreciate if you heeded my decision."
I decided to attack again.
" Oh? Ok, so we’re," I threw my hands up sarcastically looking around the room. " just going to throw Meg’s life away? Just like that?" I finally finished after a pause and threw my hands on my hips roughly.
Erik began to gingerly massage his temples as a licking of a migraine burned across his forehead.
" You do not understand, Christine." Erik said lightly and dropped his hands to his knees and directing his gaze towards my clouding eyes. " It’s either you, or her. You have no idea how tough of a decision is being made."
I stared at him for a second trying to imagine where on Earth his head had fallen too. What was he saying, this was a tough decision? It was the easiest. I had everything worked out in my head.
" Erik, look, either way, he is going to want me. He’s only using Meg. He’s using her to get to me, and now he’s using you. Just trust me, and let me go. Please Erik."
" No." He answered simply.
I closed my mouth tightly biting my tongue. I couldn’t handle this anymore. He treated me as if I were a child. Like he was sending me off to bed with a cookie so that he, the ‘adult’ could take care of things. I was old enough to make my own tea. I was old enough to make my own decisions.
" Erik," I began again in attempt to win this already won argument. " This is not your problem. You nor Meg would not be involved with this if you had never followed me home."
" So you’re saying my love for you is in vain then?"
I bit my lip becoming more and more aggravated with each second slowly passing by. Why couldn’t he just understand that I could handle this?
I leaned back against the cool wall of my bedroom and slid down slowly.
" You shouldn’t have butted into my life." I mumbled into my hand shaking my head as I tried pitying myself; saying small phrases, blaming it on Erik so I could feel better. Not intended for Erik’s ears, but apparently he heard.
" Oh, ok, so, that night. Was that butting into your life? Or, wait no, it must had been that kiss we first shared on the stage Chris , wasn’t it?"
My forehead began to crinkle in confusion as he continued to go down the list.
" Erik, no, I-"
He cut me off and continued with his speech.
" So, everything, everything we have ever shared together, has been butting in?"
I shook my head.
" Why do you always over read me?"
" Over reading you?"
" Yes."
" Look, Christine, I-" He finished the sentence with a sigh and got up from his seat and kneeled in front of me.
" Christine, I just care about you. That’s why I have been ‘butting in’ so much. That’s why I chose to stay with you and help, rather than flying back to Paris. How much more obvious do I need to make it?" He finished with a slight laugh and cupped my face.
All my anger, all my aggravation, seemed to evaporate from that single touch. As his thumb began to trace tiny circles against my cheek, my world of calm rushed back to me, my world of quiet slowly drifting back. I lightly covered his hand in mine.
" I know you care about me. I feel like the luckiest woman alive to even consider that the feelings I have for you are mutual. Just, Erik, what I’ve been trying to tell you is that I need to help. You won’t defeat Raoul on your own if you just decide to live me here in case something bad happens." I whispered softly as I laid my forehead against his looking directly into his eyes. He had the look of a lost little boy, searching for something good in a horrible storm of destruction. I felt my heart give a tight squeeze.
" No matter what we would do," I continued even more softly.. " He would still come after me. The only way we can stop him, is if we do this together."
He searched my eyes for several moments, a thousand thoughts seeming to course through his head with each passing second. I stroked his cheek softly, keeping the same neutral expression on my face as he began to sort through his thoughts.
" We leave tomorrow morning."

I'm going crazy.

I'm listless and unwanted as I sit in this class of hethans.
Grouped into a single word, becoming a memeber of a lower class than my actual worth.
A Teenager.
A being that seemingly finds pleasure in making bowel movements with my lips,
and finding nerotic ways to entertain myself and others.
I have no feelings for the outer world but my own.
Me. Thats all I feel. Thats all that matters.
I immaturely handle situations and never think through every miniscule step I seem to take in life's path.
I verbally humilate myself infront of crowds, laughing at my own stupidity.
Its a tiresome grouping.
I embody none of these mundoane things,
yet its assumed.
After all, what Teenager could care?

***
I'm in a downright disgusting mood today. I feel low and been wanting to breakdown crying since 7th hour. Exhaustion is slowly consuming every bit of my being, but no matter how terrible I feel, everyone seems to feel that I have no semblance of what actual exhaustion is.

Well. Lets see:

Projects due in October:

1. Poetry book for Creative writing due on the 31. 11 poems in all coupled with way I wrote them, and what I was feeling at that time. Creating one poem if I'm not in a lyrical mood takes me about 5 hours to spit out a few verses. Poetry isn't my dig, and I've been trying to start what I need since last week.

2. An animal story depicting how it uses defense mechinisms due on the 17. Not really a problem, but I'm still on the rough daft.

3. Create a stuffed animal resembling a mole in honor of the "mole" theory for Chemistry due on the 20th. I have to make it to where it resembles Bob Marley(Bob Moley) It should be fun, but time consuming. And costly.

4. Immigration Project for American History due on the 13th. It has to be on a backround of my lastname. Family pictures, recipes, music, and prized possessions all crammed into a "festively decorated shoebox".

5. Book Analasis for English Due on the 17th.

6. Begin "Animal Farm" for Creative Writing

Then every weekend I work till 11, go to bed between 12-1. Wake up for 6 for a 4 hour chorus rehersal and then back to work at 6 till 11 on Saturday. On weeknights, I'll usually pass out on my bed between 9-10:30 depending if I'm thinking about anything before I close my eyes, which seems to keep me up for a good hour overanalyzing. Wake up for 5:30 the next morning. All week. Then, I have this new job looming over my head, which is sooo much nicer hours wise, but I'm feeling like the people is like this huge hidden lifelong cult, and I'm doomed for life.


I feel like my body is going to be shutting down soon, but what I would give for a day for of sleep!

(end rant)

update,obviously

This needs no introduction, really. Its Harry Potter's Mother and Father as teens.


James led Lily up the long path toward the Shrieking Shack, his heart pounding. Finally, alone with her. On a date. Anything could happen.
Except that it couldn’t. He had promised he wouldn’t try anything.
What a stupid promise.
The moment he saw her, he’d wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do a lot more than kiss her.
What was really driving him crazy--and making his damn trousers painful again--was that he knew she wanted him to try...something. That look on her face when he’d taken her hand in the pub. Wow. Yeah, she wanted something.
But she was scared, too. James could feel it. And he’d promised he wouldn’t try anything.
They came to the small, broken down shack.
‘This is it,’ James said, as she picked her way over some rotting plywood and moved toward the door.
‘Lovely,’ she said dryly. ‘Is it this attractive on the inside?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Want to see?’
‘I suppose,’ she said, sounding singularly unimpressed. He began to regret his idea to come here. For one thing, this was the place Remus always came to hide out when the full moon came round. James hadn’t been lying to Lily when he’d told her Remus had gone to the hospital wing. He had. But by this time tomorrow, Remus would be holed up in the shack with his three best mates, waiting for the inevitable.
James opened the front door and she went in. The wood creaked beneath their feet. He shut the door behind her, and she jumped.
‘No ghosts,’ he said, grinning. ‘No need to be scared.’
‘I’m not,’ she said unconvincingly. She looked round the dark, dingy room. ‘This is...well. This is horrible. Not exactly a romantic place, is it?’
James reddened. Definitely a bad idea to bring her here. He approached her but made no move to touch her.
‘It could be,’ he said. ‘Romantic, I mean.’
‘How?’ said Lily, her hands on her hips. ‘With all this dust and no furniture and no--’
But James cut her off. He’d pulled his wand from his robes and waved it, uttering several incantations. The room began to magically clean itself. A squishy, comfortable looking sofa appeared across from the decrepit fireplace, which was instantly clean and then filled with logs.
James pointed his wand at the fire, and the fire crackled to life.
Lily blushed. The filthy room was now spotless. Still shabby and run down, but spotless.
‘Better,’ she said. She had her hands in front of her and she was twisting them nervously. He came over to her and took her hands in his. She looked up at him.
‘D’you...want to sit down?’ he said.
‘Okay.’ She looked like a frightened rabbit, he thought. As though deciding whether to flee or just freeze in place. He gave her hand the smallest tug and led her to the sofa.
She sat down and primly arranged herself in what James thought was a very old fashioned sort of pose: back straight, ankles crossed, hands folded in her lap. It was adorable.
He sat down next to her, careful to keep a bit of distance between them.
‘So,’ she said, looking round the room. ‘Do you come here often?’
James swallowed. The rest of the question, he knew, was ‘with girls.’
‘No,’ he said truthfully. ‘Actually I usually come here with, you know, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.’
‘Oh,’ she said. The fire was giving her skin a golden glow. ‘D’you boys come here to snog each other, then?’
‘Evans, you scandalous girl,’ he teased, still keeping his distance. ‘I must say you’ve changed a bit. Not quite as...proper as you used to be.’
‘You mean not quite as uptight,’ she said.
‘Oh, you’re still uptight,’ he said, grinning. ‘Never met a girl so obsessed with studying and making good marks as you.’
‘And I’ve never met anyone as smart as you who’s so very lazy,’ she countered.
‘An underhanded compliment. Thanks,’ he said. ‘But you have to admit, I have been taking my studies more seriously this year. I’ve even been to the library a few times.’
‘Well, it’s about time,’ she said, smiling. ‘Seeing as it’s your last year in school.’
He chuckled, and they fell silent for a moment. Almost unconsciously, almost imperceptibly, he moved closer to her. Just an inch. She didn’t move away.
‘So what do you four terrors do in here?’ Lily asked. ‘And when do you come here, anyway? I usually see the four of you during Hogsmeade weekends.’
‘We don’t normally come here on Hogsmeade weekends,’ said James. ‘Where’s the fun in that? No, we like a little rule-breaking with our adventures.’
‘Naturally.’
‘We usually come here late at night.’
‘Oh,’ said Lily. ‘And just how do you manage to get outside the front gates of the school?’
‘We don’t use the gates,’ said James. ‘There’s a secret entrance.’
‘Oh, come on,’ said Lily, rolling her eyes.
‘No, seriously,’ said James. He turned his body round and pointed to a far corner of the room. ‘See that? That bit of floor that looks different?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s a trapdoor,’ he said. ‘There’s a secret passage that leads directly back inside the grounds.’
‘Really?’ said Lily, intrigued. She’d heard rumors of secret passages in and out of Hogwarts, but hadn’t really believed them. The idea of secret passages had always seemed like a concept from a bad mystery novel. ‘How did you find it?’
‘That’s a secret,’ said James. ‘And as for what we do when we get here, that’s a secret, too.’
‘My, you’re just full of secrets, aren’t you?’ said Lily, arching her eyebrows.
‘Well, I like a bit of mystery surrounding me,’ said James. ‘Makes me more interesting, don’t you think?’
‘Or conceited,’ she said, smirking.
‘Ouch,’ said James. ‘That’s not nice, Evans. It’s true, but it’s not nice.’
She bit her lip; she was trying not to laugh.
‘Oh, no,’ he said, taking the game one step further. ‘Don’t tell me you’re going to smile, now.’
She clapped a hand over her mouth.
‘Don’t do it, Evans,’ he said, enjoying this immensely. ‘Don’t smile because of something I said. Word might get out and then where would you be?’
She laughed. She had a very nice laugh. She had a beautiful smile.
‘My god, Evans,’ he said, moving another inch closer to her. ‘I didn’t know you could smile. I didn’t even know you had teeth.’
‘Yeah, well,’ she said, her laughter subsiding, her face flushing, ‘there’s rather a lot you don’t know about me.’
‘I know plenty,’ said James.
‘Like what?’
‘Like you’re beautiful,’ he said. Another inch closer. ‘Like you’re smart. Talented. Brave. Like...you smell delicious.’ Another inch.
She was sitting so still she looked almost frozen in place. When she spoke, her voice shook.
‘That’s...sweet,’ she said. He moved in closer. He could feel the heat radiating from her. Her breath was on his face. Her lips were wet. She was trembling.
Careful, Potter.
Careful, indeed. If I don’t kiss her soon I’ll burst.
If you attack her she’ll hex you and never speak to her again.
Right.
‘I know something else,’ he said softly. He was very close now. He lifted his hand and caressed the skin of her cheek with his fingers. Such soft skin. She probably felt soft everywhere.
‘What?’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. She closed her eyes as his fingers danced across her cheek.
‘I know,’ he said, his mouth inches from hers, ‘that you’re dying for me to kiss you, only you’re too afraid to admit it.’
‘No, I’m not--’
But he didn’t let her finish. He pressed his lips against hers.
A thousand stars exploded behind his eyes. She inhaled sharply through her nose, but didn’t pull away. Her lips were soft. So soft. Sweet Merlin, this was better than he could have ever imagined. His erection swelled as he moved his lips over hers, kissing her gently.
Slow, he thought. Slow. He didn’t use his tongue now; he just caressed her lips with his, placed his other hand on her cheek.
He broke the kiss and backed away, his brain reeling.
She blinked and stared at him.
He smiled softly, and let his hand move from her cheek to run through her hair. It felt like strands of silk on his fingers.
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he teased.
‘No,’ she said slowly. Then she seemed to collect herself a bit. ‘What do you call that?’
Brat.
‘A kiss, you silly girl,’ he said, grinning.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said. He started to protest, but then she lifted her hands from her lap, placed them on the back of his neck, pulled him to her, and kissed him.
Really kissed him. James was completely unprepared for this. Her mouth pressed again his, hot and pliant, and he felt a surge press him in his trousers as she opened her mouth and swept her tongue along his lower lip.
He moaned and began to kiss her back, meeting her tongue with his, tangling his hands in her hair. Her glorious hair. She tasted of butterbeer and strawberries. It was slow and deep and so erotic James thought he might swoon. He knew she was passionate, underneath that frosty exterior. But where had she learned to kiss like this? He couldn’t think. He had to think. She wasn’t supposed to be leading things, he was.
He pulled away.
‘What?’ Lily asked, sounding almost fearful.
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly, trying to calm his breathing down. ‘You just...surprised me, is all. I just...’ His voice trailed off. Her hair was already tangled from his fingers. Her lips were red from kissing him. Her eyes were glazed. Her face was flushed.
‘Lily,’ he heard himself say, and he kissed her again, forgetting about everything except the press of her hot mouth and her soft tongue against his. They kissed like this for several minutes; slow, hot, deep kisses that left him breathless and aching inside his trousers.
Her hands tangled in his hair and he felt his mouth move from hers over her face, along her jaw, to her neck. Her sweet, sweet neck. He ran his tongue lightly over the tender skin; she gasped and gave a soft little moan. He bit her lightly and she gasped again. Dear god, he was so aroused he thought he might die right there.
Slow, slow, slow, he thought. She likes it now but if you rush, you’ll scare her.
His hands began to travel, around the back of her neck, along her shoulder blades, down her back, over her robes. Damn school robes. Could he...did he dare?
He kissed her lips again, slowly, and moved his hands to the clasps of her robes. He felt her stiffen against him and wondered for a split second if he should try it, but when she didn’t push his hands away, he opened the clasp of her robes and gently pulled them off her.
It’s okay, the voice in his head said. It’s just her robes. She’s still fully clothed. She won’t freak out.
He kissed her again, wishing he could shrug off his trousers and just give his raging erection a little breathing room, but knowing he couldn’t. Then, she was working at the clasp of his robes.
Oh, boy, he thought, as she pulled them slowly off his shoulders. Passionate, indeed, this one. Passionate and so delicious he wanted to eat her up right there.
Instead he kissed her, willing himself to stay in control. She seemed to have other ideas.
She began to kiss his neck, nibble on his ear, and her hands wandered, over his shoulders, down his back, back up his front and over his chest. She moved closer to him and put her arms round him again, and this time she pulled at his shirt, pulled it from the inside of his trousers, and let her hands move beneath the shirt and jumper he wore.
He closed his eyes and bit his lip as her fingers made icy-hot trails up and down his spine.
Slow down, he thought, but she was pulling him down on top of her, leaning back onto the sofa, and he felt himself lower his weight onto her. She shifted beneath him and he felt himself sink between her legs.
Dear god. His pelvis pressed against hers and instinctively he ground his erection against her. She moaned and pulled him close, kissing him passionately.
His brain was on fire. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He thought he’d be lucky to get one or two kisses out of the date. Instead she was going at him like a wildcat. Like she wanted him to...He knew he should stop.
He couldn’t stop.
His hands wandered again, over her shoulders, finding her breast, kneading it gently through the heavy jumper and blouse she wore. She sighed against his mouth and her hands went beneath his shirt again. His hands tugged at the jumper she wore and pulled it over her head. He paused long enough to drop the jumper on the floor, then sank onto her again, kissing her harder, faster. His hands moved over her, sliding beneath the blouse, capturing her breasts.
‘James,’ she whispered, her breath hot in his ear. His hands stroked her breasts through the thin lace of her bra, his thumbs brushing the tips. She arched her back against him and moaned. He kissed her again, and his left hand moved from her breast over her hip, down her thigh, then back up. He gasped when he felt her grip his wrist and move his hand between her legs.
No, he thought. He shouldn’t do that. But even as he thought this, his hand caressed her over her jeans. Her back arched again, her hips moved. He stroked her harder. She cried out.
Okay, to say she was passionate is an understatement, James thought, stroking her over her jeans. Her hips moved against his hand and he wished he could find some spell to make her jeans and knickers disappear so that he could touch her properly, so his fingers could find that sweet, sweet place that by now must be so very wet...
‘Wait.’
‘What?’ he said quickly, panting and pulling his hand away and rolling off her.
‘I...I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I just...it’s...’
‘Too fast,’ said James, breathing heavily. ‘Right.’ He sat up, shifting uncomfortably in his trousers. He was alternately disappointed and relieved that she’d called a halt to things. He wanted her so badly. But he couldn’t have her. Not yet.
She sat up, smoothing her tangled hair. She was very flushed, and she was clearly trying to calm her breathing down.
‘Well,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Er...I...good heavens. Perhaps we should get back to the school now.’
‘Right,’ he said. His trousers were killing him. Oh, to be stuck with an organ that had a mind of its own! The damn thing was so swollen he felt like he’d been hit with an Engorgement Charm.
‘Are you okay, James?’
‘Fine,’ he lied. ‘Just fine.’ He stood up and turned away from her quickly, hiding the evidence of his still painful arousal, and pulled on his robes. He forced his mind away from where his hands had just been on her body and thought instead of Snivellus, naked and covered in chocolate.
‘Ew,’ he said aloud, as his erection deflated.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ he said quickly, pulling his robes over his head. ‘Er, shall we go?’ He offered her his arm again.
She giggled and bit her lip.
Don’t do that, you minx, he thought. Do you have to be so bloody irresistible?
She took his arm and they left the shack; James Vanished the sofa (Remus would just tear it apart, anyway) but otherwise left the room as it was, clean and dust-free.
They walked back toward the center of Hogsmeade, arm in arm. They didn’t talk. James couldn’t talk; his brain was still scrambled by what had just happened. He had snogged Lily Evans. A lot. He’d touched her. A lot. Okay, mostly over her clothes. But still. A very silly but unavoidable grin crossed his face.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he lied, still grinning.
She rolled her eyes. ‘You know, Potter, you’re a miserable liar.’



Tiny lil' taste.

Faded rants

I know this is my "short story" blog, but I thought I'd start off with a few rants I've accumulated.

First is about my recent ex, Matt:

I hate the fact that Life can be so perfect. Everything seemingly falls into place, you seem to be able to have the ability to say everything everyone wants to hear including yourself. ( You don't feel completely asenine when you say the word 'queso') And you are completely blinded by this. You're blinded from bitter truth; to wrapped up in current situations to think about anything else.Then, just as easily, life decides to turn on you. Its like God opened the clouds and said, "ERIN ALEXANDRA BENNETT, I HATE YOUR UTERUS" and than let my heart follow after the unmerciful cramp attack I had to undertake last night.This year, is the one year that I have ever felt true heart break. 3. fucking. times. I felt it drop through my stomach unto the floor, and watched it pumping silently as it slowed to a gentle pulse. Watching it slowly fade away. Everything that I could have ever felt for whatever reasons were pointless. I basically had to tell myself to stop feeling everything that I had been feeling. Things that had become so second nature to me, that I was blinded.But, the two heart breaks I endured were nothing compared to the third. It was a feeling of abandonment. A feeling that I never thought I would experience, not yet anyway. Its like, ever since everything has happened, I've disappeared. Everything I had been trusted with is gone. I'm the last choice to be talked to by you when you basically said I was the only person that you could ever truly open up with. It hurts.But, I know I'm stronger than that. I know I am more mature than that. But it still hurts.


annnd one more:

Have you ever found yourself caught up in something? So caught up that everything else, everything around, everything you felt suddenly blurs like a canvas of running paint colors, and you completely forget yourself? You feel as if you're on top of the world, and you're invincible to anything that could possibly be harming to you. The light airy feeling is always constantly floating in your stomach because for once in your life, you feel completely content.Then, one word, one syllable, one movement, even a small gesture, burns all of those feelings to the ground. One small opening of the mouth in an ignorant way knocks you off of the cloud you had been so luxuriously laying about on. 1000 questions seem to flood your head at a manac speed; questioning why this could had happened, how it could happen when just 4 minutes ago, just 5 seconds ago, you felt on top of the universe? You want to pour your soul out. You want to let it be known whats flying around in your head so badly, so cravingly, that you taste the sweet bitterness of it all. But, when you get the actual chance, you blank out. Completely. Your swelling confidence suddenly implodes and your left with a dark nothing of what you wanted to say. So, you back away from it thinking its for the best. Though, deep down, it truly isn't. In the end, you're just denying yourself the taste of sweet fruit you had been craving for so long, killing your hope with one. Single. Breath. And you wonder to yourself, why should this happen to you? You allowed bitter truth take over, and ignored yourself the chance to speak your mind. Why do we always do that?



welcome to my world.

stories coming soon(tomorrow.)

I had to recreate a blog, guys. I'm really sorry.

I completely forgot everything involving my last screenname and password, so I'm sorry about the inconvience.

So anyway, although I did have the stamina to post tonight after waiting for such a long time trying to decide what would be good or not, I'm just too tired to keep my eyes on the screen at this point.

I'm wiped.

But, I promise a post for tomorrow