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rainbowfic2012-04-09 08:35 pm
walkwithheroes) wrote in rainbowfic2012-04-09 08:35 pm
Entry tags:
Addictions: Tardis Blue and Heart Gold
Name: Nichole
Story: Addictions
Piece Title: Ten Minutes
Colors: Tardis Blue: 18. Love has never been noted for its rationality.; Heart Gold:
24. Love is a little haven of refuge from the world. - Bertrand A. Russell
Supplies and Materials: none
Word Count: 538
Rating: PG
Warnings: talk of phobias; sex; low self-esteem; hints of an abusive relationship
Summary: He didn’t like being alone with Grace.
Note: I'm back!!! Do you care?
The support group met every Friday evening at six o’clock in the backroom of Alexander’s Books, a rare bookstore tucked away in a corner of a dark side street. The support group wasn’t typical; it mostly involved everyone discussing their struggles of the past week and then being told that it would get better. Okay, so maybe it was typical.
He entered the room at five-fifty to find he was early. Usually everyone was there before him, but today only the girl he called Phobia had arrived. She was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, a towel between the chair and her Catholic school girl skirt. Phobia wasn’t an actual addict, though she did have an eating disorder. And obsessive compulsive disorder and germophobia and, well. . .who knew how many other phobias. She was only sixteen.
He took off his headphones and moved to an empty chair beside her. “Hi Phobia,”
Glancing up from her shoes, she frowned. “Hi Mikelangelo,”
Despite himself, he smiled. “It’s Peake.”
“It’s Grace.”
“I know. I like Phobia better.” Peake cleared his throat, suddenly wishing he had had a little something before leaving his place. He didn’t like being alone with Grace. They were too different and she was so. . . Phobia. “I saw your Dick outside.” There was a small part of him that took delight in the fact that Grace’s eyes grew wide in a strange mix of fear and confusion. “Your boyfriend, Dick.”
“He’s called Nathan.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Can I. . .” he stole a glance. “How does it work, you and Dick?”
Grace seemed to find her shoes fascinating; she never took her eyes off them as she spoke. “It’s dirty. Sex is dirty and messy and I don’t want it. So, Nathan tells his friends we do it, a lot. He tells his friend I’m like a prostitute in bed. His friends want a go, but he tells them no. I don’t think he wants the lies to come out. Sometimes he gets angry. He yells a lot, but it’ll get better.” Grace whispered; “I’ll get better.”
Shoulder’s slumped, Grace glanced over at him. She looked as if she might cry. What was worse – what was the kicker – was that she was sitting on a damn towel, because, as she once told him: ”There could be insects in the wood and they could bury themselves in my skin. The towel stops them. Really, it does. So Phobia and so sad.
Oh God, now I have to be nice. Running a hand through his dyed blue hair, Peake sighed loudly. “Most girls your age are sluts. Dick hangs around with his mates and waits to tell them you’re going to have sex with him later. He thinks this is a brothel.”
“He doesn’t –“
“He tells people you’re a prostitute. There are no prostitutes here.” Peake told her firmly.
Grace’s lips curled up into a slight smile. “What about Laura?”
Without thinking, Peake let out a laugh. It was completely against type, but he couldn’t stop himself. “She was a call girl. I’m told there’s a difference.”
Grace laughed softly; Peake grinned.
Story: Addictions
Piece Title: Ten Minutes
Colors: Tardis Blue: 18. Love has never been noted for its rationality.; Heart Gold:
24. Love is a little haven of refuge from the world. - Bertrand A. Russell
Supplies and Materials: none
Word Count: 538
Rating: PG
Warnings: talk of phobias; sex; low self-esteem; hints of an abusive relationship
Summary: He didn’t like being alone with Grace.
Note: I'm back!!! Do you care?
The support group met every Friday evening at six o’clock in the backroom of Alexander’s Books, a rare bookstore tucked away in a corner of a dark side street. The support group wasn’t typical; it mostly involved everyone discussing their struggles of the past week and then being told that it would get better. Okay, so maybe it was typical.
He entered the room at five-fifty to find he was early. Usually everyone was there before him, but today only the girl he called Phobia had arrived. She was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, a towel between the chair and her Catholic school girl skirt. Phobia wasn’t an actual addict, though she did have an eating disorder. And obsessive compulsive disorder and germophobia and, well. . .who knew how many other phobias. She was only sixteen.
He took off his headphones and moved to an empty chair beside her. “Hi Phobia,”
Glancing up from her shoes, she frowned. “Hi Mikelangelo,”
Despite himself, he smiled. “It’s Peake.”
“It’s Grace.”
“I know. I like Phobia better.” Peake cleared his throat, suddenly wishing he had had a little something before leaving his place. He didn’t like being alone with Grace. They were too different and she was so. . . Phobia. “I saw your Dick outside.” There was a small part of him that took delight in the fact that Grace’s eyes grew wide in a strange mix of fear and confusion. “Your boyfriend, Dick.”
“He’s called Nathan.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Can I. . .” he stole a glance. “How does it work, you and Dick?”
Grace seemed to find her shoes fascinating; she never took her eyes off them as she spoke. “It’s dirty. Sex is dirty and messy and I don’t want it. So, Nathan tells his friends we do it, a lot. He tells his friend I’m like a prostitute in bed. His friends want a go, but he tells them no. I don’t think he wants the lies to come out. Sometimes he gets angry. He yells a lot, but it’ll get better.” Grace whispered; “I’ll get better.”
Shoulder’s slumped, Grace glanced over at him. She looked as if she might cry. What was worse – what was the kicker – was that she was sitting on a damn towel, because, as she once told him: ”There could be insects in the wood and they could bury themselves in my skin. The towel stops them. Really, it does. So Phobia and so sad.
Oh God, now I have to be nice. Running a hand through his dyed blue hair, Peake sighed loudly. “Most girls your age are sluts. Dick hangs around with his mates and waits to tell them you’re going to have sex with him later. He thinks this is a brothel.”
“He doesn’t –“
“He tells people you’re a prostitute. There are no prostitutes here.” Peake told her firmly.
Grace’s lips curled up into a slight smile. “What about Laura?”
Without thinking, Peake let out a laugh. It was completely against type, but he couldn’t stop himself. “She was a call girl. I’m told there’s a difference.”
Grace laughed softly; Peake grinned.
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Thank you! And welcome back~.
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It's great to be back. P.S. The next part of Surely Someday is being edited now.
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