( please keep me safe , )

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

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her mom was out. with stephanie and some of the other girls she went to work with. her 'friends'. namely people she'd met at the giant hospital laundromat she worked with. she could hardly call any of them her friends. this annie knew. she never talked to them outside of work. or if she did ainsley hadn't noticed. the little green light for telephone on the modem next to her computer had only begun blinking lately because of the wedding. none of her 'friends' ever came over. when she went out, it was always to see bob. nothing ever happened to her mom. she was kind of like annie in that respect. but if she knew that she didn't acknowledge it. seeing as how she never acknowledged ainsley. all she did was make her, pop her out, give her a name and a room, divorce her dad, pay for chemo--which annie had stopped--and been done with her. years... hah. years. who am i kidding. months later her mother had found a replacement to dear old dad, bob--yes, his name was bob, and she didn't find this remotely weird or anything--they'd been dating since annie's parents broke up. bob had finally proposed this past year. hence the hubub surrounding the house as of late. there were random phones going off she didn't know they had. the door bell rang every other hour. her own phone rang every so often, not who she wanted it to be on the other end either, normally a 'friend' of her mom's claiming she couldn't get a hold of her mother any other way. and so yeah, her mom had been draining her phone battery as well. her only release from al of this, at all, was atchley. or... william as she'd discovered of late.

she may not have her phone but she did have interent, which meant she could contact him via the instant messanger she'd talk to him on the first night they met. all those nerves that had been there that first night had disappated... given a few more meetings. but she felt so much more comfortable around him. literally... he was all she wanted to pay attention to. fine, so her mom didn't even want her own daughter in the wedding procession. why? because she couldn't tan so her skin would bare a striking difference between the rest. but that wasn't all, she was afraid annie would start hacking up a storm and they'd have to pause the wedding to take care of her. oh god forbid her daughter be sick. it wasn't like she didn't get the disease from her parents in the first place. it was almost as if they'd been burdened with her. the lot of them. they pretended like she didn't even exist and when they had to actually pay attention to her, they didn't want to. they dismissed her far too quickly. almost as if the entire lot of them went, 'oh great, annie has an opinion.' group sigh everyone. so she'd learned to keep her mouth shut. especially around her dad and his new girlfriend: rochelle. the way he talked about her you'd think she was this exotic desert. from somewhere like.... madagascar or barbados. she was tall and skinny, model-like if you will. but that was probably because she was a model. long story short, the two of them had interesting conversations behind the thin walls of thier home and ainsley couldn't help but listen in on them. but her father was just like her mother. absolutely no time for her at all.

but that was all fine and dandy... now. now that she had atch. yeah, she knew his real name, which had surprised her, but she still preferred atch. which she figured he did as well, so she had no problem calling him by it. it was unique, like hers. despite the fact that she had taken all 'unique-ness' out of her name and settled for annie. which... didn't even sound like her name to begin with, but whatever. so they'd spend plenty of time together lately... duh. a few kisses here and there, some kisses that went a bit farther, but nothing like that first night. just because of her. she'd stop it before it got any further. try and act as nonchalant about it as she could. 'did a phone just go off?' 'i have to be somewhere'. little things. just to make it stop. she wanted to spare herself of any more embaressing situations. and so, just like you all probably assumed given the fact that her mother was out, she'd invited him over, of course. he'd been to her house once or twice before, in her room, on her bed, on her floor. just a few times. but not many. and since she was home alone she figured now would be a good a time as any to invite him over once more. however she was a tad nervous about the event. not because she had any plans to seduce and drop him agian. but because she'd felt a little... ill lately. fatigued--she hadn't left the house or put on actual clothes at all in a few days--dizzy--she fell over walking to the bathroom a couple of nights ago, no big deal right?--she had massive headaches--the kind that made you want to throw up. all in all, she looked whiter, the bags under her eyes were darker and her limbs were a little more heavy... to her at least. not to mention that cough. she coughed... a lot. a serious lot.

it had been an hour since she'd imed him, a half an hour since her mother left, which meant she expected him at any moment. yes, she'd told him a specific time so that he wouldn't be around when the mess of older women--and stephanie, her step sister--were around. they'd only ignore annie and proceed to tell him how adorable he was, undressing him with thier eyes and what not. disgusting. he might eat it up... but she wouldn't. she'd more than likely tug on his hand and pull him back to her bedroom where she'd lock the door and wait for the beasts to exit the premisis. she was sitting, on the ground in the hallway that led to her front door. her house was nothing like acthley's. nothing at all. it had to be five times smaller, and it looked absolutely disgusting. but her mother had mentioned something about a move as soon as the wedding was over. bob was semi-well off. annie and her mom weren't. she was messing with her hair, her back up against one wall and her feet about a foot up on the other, listening intently for the engine and the slamming of a door. anything that meant that he was finally here. she'd made sure to sit through a shower, do her hair, make sure her make up wasn't fucking everywhere and pretty much sat in the hallway for the last half an hour. just waiting. because she honestly couldn't think of anything better than waiting for him.

her head perked up and she leaned forward, turning her head to the side and trying to peek out the column of windows next to her front door. for a split second she saw the car and a wide grin found its way onto her face. it took her a moment but she finally found her way to standing, her limbs already screaming at her that she needed rest, because the act of getting up was just too damn much. the effort elicited something of a cough, far too common as of late, which she allowed to rip through her throat as she buried her mouth in her sweater sleeve. and once she ran her hands through her hair and tugged down on the sleeves of her sweatshirt she bit her lip and headed for the door, opening it before she even allowed him to knock. god the feeling... of just being near him at all... "hey,

[/color]" she smiled weakly and resisted that scratch she felt in her throat.
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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] <3
word count ,[/color] one three six eight.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- and another hoodie >_> barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
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[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
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[/center]
Atchley had been rather lazy today, to be completely honest with you. He had been up until fourish smoking, and when he finally talked himself into blinking away from vh1 classics and going to bed, he had pretty much completely crashed. He hadn’t slept well lately, maybe it was just because he was so busy thinking about Ainsley constantly, he didn’t know. Or maybe it was just because he had been avoiding smoking for awhile and he finally couldn’t take it anymore. So Atch managed to clean out a week and a half’s worth of weed over the course of about 5 hours. He was so stoned that he couldn’t remember what he did for the most part, and for half of the time he really didn’t understand what he was watching, even though it was Daisy of Love and then music videos. Really, how stupid can you be to not understand Daisy of Love? The show was so stupid and so entertaining that it was just another common sense only contest. None the less, all he could do was stare absently at Daisy de la Hoya blankly and smoke more.

Through out their escapades lately he had confessed that his full name was William Atchley, and he felt like a douche just saying it. William to him sounded like some stuck up prissy name that entailed it’s wearer to speak with a British accent and say, “Would you join me for some tea and crumpets?” That was so far from Atchley that it was unreal, and he found that his middle name was much more rockerish and was also another way to reel girls in. As of late though, Atchley hadn’t been needing to use this particular talent he possessed for pulling people in, because the only person on his mind had been Annie, like I pointed out before. He was seriously so crazy about her that he hadn’t looked at another girl twice and considered sex. Oh shut up, Daisy de la Hoya would never happen so that doesn’t count. The fact that Atch had been willing to drop everything for this quiet, black haired girl the night he met her still shocked him, and though he didn’t know all that much more about her than he did that night, he was still every bit as infatuated with her.

All he knew was that Ainsley hated being home. Or at least, that’s how he understood it in his simple little male mind. Her parents and siblings – half, step, whatever the hell they were, Atch could never remember what the titles were exactly – didn’t appreciate her, which he could never seem to wrap his mind around. Both parents were dating someone else, one getting married, and every time he’d been to Annie’s place there had been so much chaos through out the tiny house that Atchley felt the need to stop everything and tell everyone to chill the fuck out. Naturally, that was just stoner thought process, and due to all the pot he’d been using lately, he was pretty mellowed out at all times. Of course, he wasn’t sure if Ainsley could tell, but he was sure that she wasn’t stupid and could smell it on him on occasion. As much as he wished that he could slow everything down with her family and get the whole story, he was never introduced to them and had only caught glimpses as he was drug to Annie’s room, like she was hoarding him, stashing him away so she wouldn’t have to share with anyone.

Atch rarely turned off his laptop now, and he always kept the sound on it up so loud that even when he was asleep he would hear if he had an IM. Her phone was almost always dead as of late, so the internet was the only way she could get a hold of him when she needed to be saved from the whack job of a family she was born into – complete with beautiful tanned sisters that no matter what she said, Atchley knew she wished she could be. He didn’t understand this need completely, as he didn’t understand a lot about Annie. He thought she was beautiful the way that she was, inside and out. She was one of the best people he had ever known, and he hated to see her unhappy. That was quite regularly when she wasn’t with him for long periods of time though – even he knew from guessing that her parents didn’t give a shit about her or what she did. They didn’t even want her to walk in her mother’s wedding. But whatever. He was planning on stealing her away on the day of the wedding anyway. So she really had nothing to worry about, he was on stand by to take her away from anything that caused her pain.

Even though they’d hung out practically every day since that night, and kissed so many times Atchley couldn’t even count them all, they had yet to go all the way. And that was fine with him for once. It shocked him that he actually gave a damn about making sure she was ready before she gave her virginity to him – if she chose to give it to him, that is. Which he thought that she would, but that was up to her. She’d seemed so tired lately, a little extra fragile. As much as she tried to convince him that she was fine, just maybe getting a cold or something, Atchley’s stoner brain wasn’t that daft. He figured it might have been something a little bit more than just a cold, but she wasn’t telling, so he wasn’t going to keep asking her until she bit his head off for being the obnoxious boy he was. He was still passed out, face pressed into the pillow, fully dressed from the night before when a loud noise from his computer shocked him awake. He blinked the crusty shit away from his blue eyes and blinked a few times before wiping the drool from his face and looking to find an IM from Annie on the screen.

Atchley lived across town from her, which was about fifteen minutes in light to no traffic, plus he was going to shower first. In his sleep not only had he drooled like crazy, he had a fever or something and sweated like crazy. His entire room still smelled like weed, and it was so, so tempting. Maybe he’d smoke a little joint while he was in the shower. God knew he’d done that enough times. He got up and went to his bathroom, opening the window next to the sink, and turned on the water. By the time he had stripped down, lit his joint, and stepped under the water, he felt so much better. Using only one hand to wash himself, his other held his joint out of the shower, pulling it to him every now and again. That said, by the time his fifteen minute shower was over he was stoned just enough to mellow him out and make him want to be cuddly. He got dressed, all the clothes he owned currently smelled faintly of pot, clean or not, grabbed his keys, rubbed his dog for a minute, and was on his way.

She was going to be so irritated with him taking forever. That thought stressed him out, so he cracked the window of his Mustang and lit a cigarette, the nicotine intake immediately chilling him out just enough to help him breathe a little easier. By the time he had pulled into her driveway, he had smoked another one and was now feeling like he was up for just about anything. Ha, he had no idea what he was in for today. He slammed the car door shut, and just before he raised his hand to knock on the door it was opened, and he looked down at Ainsley and smiled. Atchley loved their height difference for some odd reason. Her voice seemed a little rough compared to his almost melodic reply of “Hi,” but he wasn’t about to point it out. He leaned down and kissed her lightly once. He was convinced that she was sick or coming down with something, he just had no idea what the extent of it was. And even if it was something he could catch he didn’t really care. It would be worth it.

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • ick.
word count • one - four - five - five
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
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[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

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yeah, so she'd gotten over the fact that she'd thoroughly embaressed herself the first night. she had, honestly. she was just a bit more careful whenever they... were alone was all. not to mention she'd freeze up if anything ever got out of hand. but she still hadn't gotten over the fact that her lifestyle was so much less than his was. well... technically only when she was at her mothers house. which was more often than not. she was supposed to switch houses regularly. one week at mom's, get picked up on saturday and spend one week at dad's, get picked up on saturday and start it all over again. but her dad seemed to be... out a lot. and by out i mean traveling. at photoshoots, out of the country on business trips. you know, the usual. and while he was supposed to take her with him on these things--as the court had decided--he didn't. she spent most of her time with her mom. which she didn't mind, it just meant a smaller room and thinner walls. more people, less food, etc. not like she ate much anyway. or at all really. and neither of her parents cared enough to complain about it. her mom hardly noticed her when she was around, so she couldn't care less. and her father typically gave her free reign of his house, and therefore there was no need to complain there either. annie was quiet, complacent and easily forgotten. so when it came time for switches the parents easily made plans for something else. therefore leaving annie with a rather crazy schedule. most of her clothes were at her mom's, and therefore most of the clothes at her dad's were nicer. fresh, just bought and hardly worn. atch had only been there once. and her father wasn't around.

but her mothers house had to be one of the least likeable houses in all of boston. it was terrible really. two bedrooms, one bathroom a small kitchen/nook and a living room. there was another room that could pass as an office or a laundry room so they used it for both. yes, annie's computer--bought for her by her father--sat across the room from a nearly constantly humming dryer and washing machine. and her mom often made phone calls in there whilst ironing or sowing. but it wasn't like her mother was going to watch over her shoulder. so... no ainsley wasn't paranoid at all. her mother never even touched her computer. hell, her mother didn't know how computers worked. her touch would probably be the death of this overly priced device. that was another thing? why couldn't her father leave her mother with some money when he left? of course... he probably could have. or did, rather. but the way her mother spent money it woud be no surprsie that it all evaporated like water over a stove in a matter of months. leaving them with this hellhole. literally. ainsley's room was smaller tahn the laundryroom/office. enough room for a twin size bed--not that she was complaining, she was small enough and a bigger bed wasn't necessary--enough room to move about, a place for a dresser and night stand and that was just about it. she'd decorated the walls, random cut outs from magazines, nothing exciting. typically models and such, people she wouldn't mind being. which made her entirely too self-conscious whenever atchley was in there. she'd debated tearing it all down but assumed that'd be too suspiscious.

thier kitchen was always a mess, thier living room was cluttered with all kinds of fabrics, empty pizza boxes, random toys from her friends kids that had been left behind, videos left laying about, clothes of her mothers. anything you could fathom it was there. annie's room was probably the cleanest place in the entire house. which was part of why she tugged atchley there the moment he set foot in her house. she could be proud of that part. because it was actually hers. unlike so much. and you wonder why she didn't want to introduce him to her parents. first off, they wouldn't really give a fuck. her mom might drool over him a bit, fantasize about him in her forty year old woman dreams, despite her fiance. hell she might try and get at him, taht thoguht was disturbing. she knew her stepsisters had spotted him before. because it was only after teh first time she'd had him over that they started talking to her. questioning her about who that was. bitches. that made her paranoid. god, if she lost him to one of them... jesus christ. she might as well commit suicide. forget that she was practically already doing that but honestly. might as well make it go quicker. and her dad... her dad would just tell them to be careful. and that was it. taht would be the extent of his attention span as related to annie. be careful. god dad. how nice of you. yeah so no. there would be no family dinners to meet annie's new 'friend'. there would be no mom, dad, this is william. hell, she couldn't even say that to herself and take herself seriously. no. bottom line. that wasn't happening.

yeah, lately she'd noted that smell. it was familiar from so many other people she'd tagged around with. and, not gonna lie, she loved it. it made him all the more exciting. he always smelled of drugs and... well, whatever cologne he used. and she absolutely loved it. she'd pegged it as, 'atch's smell'. and... it made him taste better honestly. it did. ainsley was actually quite surprised that he hadn't asked her to smoke with him again. seeing as how that had been the intent of the first night and they... obviously never did that. so she had been expecting it any time now. only it never happened. kind of like she'd expected him to drop her the next morning. which also never happened. he never ceased to amaze her. he was so confusing, but she couldn't help herself. she couldn't. annie could not get enough of atchley and that was taht. she was hooked like the drugs she knew he always went home and did. and... obviously did before coming to see her, or picking her up. he always seemed so calm. and she loved it. that was one thing in her life that wasn't always on the move. one thing that was hers. and she wanted as much from him as she could get. no matter what it took.

instinctually, annie pushed up on her tip toes to meet him halfway, only because she had been so used to it by now. it was only after falling back down onto her feet that she realized that that was probably disgusting. she was all icky. she felt like a fucking ice cube but her head was on fire. and she coughed continuously, like she was hacking up a lung. there couldn't be any part of him that liked to see that, much less kiss taht. but he did regardless. he always did. and that never ceased to make her smile. like right now. she looked up at him, one of the biggest grins she'd grinned in a while--a.k.a. since she'd seen him--and turned to go back down the hallway, assuming he'd shut the door and follow right behind her. what else was he going to do? examine the water stains in the ceiling? as she walked she began to talk, growing more eager to be near him with each step, "my mom and sisters went--

[/color]" her voice faltered half way and she brought up her forarm to her mouth as a round of coughs rolled up her throat. she paused in the hallway a moment and tried to carry on just as before like nothing had happened as soon as they finished scratching at her throat: "mom and sisters went out to do some shopping for the wedding.[/color]" as soon as she hit the doorway to her room she turned, again assuming that he'd be just behind her, "they'll be out all day.[/color]" again she smiled, this time a bit softer and bit at her bottom lip. a day with atchley. how could she not be excited?
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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] she's excited. D<
word count ,[/color] one three nine four.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- and another hoodie >_> barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[/center]
It had taken her forever and a day, and at first Atchley couldn’t even imagine that someday in the near future she would, but she had managed to get over herself and realize that the whole incident with saying no on the first night had not been the end of the world. He had been prepared to argue with her until he was thirty about it, but after a while she just seemed more comfortable with him, and soon enough she pretty much just quit apologizing for it, much to his relief. If she said sorry to him one more time for that night he might have had to scream or hit something or find some other form of release. Whatever worked. In a way, Atchley was a little bit jealous of Ainsley. Even though the family that she had was completely fucked up and ignored her, at least she lived in a place where she wasn’t expected to be a certain thing. She wasn’t expected to live up to standards set by unreasonable parents, she wasn’t expected to be perfect. He was. Yeah he had money, yeah he had nice cars and a big house. But all that came with a price. The price was conforming to be the perfect spawn for his tycoon parents, and he just couldn’t be that. He never would be that.

The good thing about that was that Atchley had finally accepted it and quit feeling like if he didn’t have his parents’ approval that he wasn’t good enough or that he was worthless. He knew that he was what he was meant to be, whether or not it was what his parents wanted. It was his life, and he was going to live it how he wanted. Atch had been to both houses, though only to her father’s once. And to be honest, it completely dumbfounded him that her two living arrangements were so entirely different. She would go from being in a room the size of a closet to being in a house of his size. It pissed him off some too, that she was living this way when he had enough room in his house to sleep more than fifty comfortably, that is if people were passed out on the floor. Which had happened before – he had only once made the mistake of throwing a house party and never again would he do it in the future. Out of that mistake he got the bill for four cleaning staffs, about a thousand dollars worth of booze and food (it was a big ass party of college and high schoolers, and to be honest, they were so plowed half way through that they just kept drinking more so the hang over would be worth it), and around a hundred people in his house, and about fifty more scattered in the back yard around the pool.

To say the least, that experience had been traumatizing.

He would agree that her house looked much more lived in than his did, but that was another thing that made him slightly jealous. He was alone a lot, unless he had friends over or went out. The cleaning people came once a week and cleaned his room and shit up. So there was pretty much no such thing as a mess for more than a few days going on in that house. She had random posters on her walls, where Atch’s room didn’t really have anything but pictures. They were everywhere, really. Party shots, ones with his best friends, ones from when he was little. They were either taped, thumb tacked, or on one of the dozen huge cork boards that were on his walls. Every board had different pictures, some designated to parties, others to him as he grew up, some to the relationships of his past, the collection of beautiful faces smiling back at him whenever he walked by. He liked collecting memories like that. It helped him remember the good times that he’d had in his life.

Where most of the boards had happy pictures randomly stuck to them, one or two had sadder ones, with pictures of him and people who’d moved away or died, a few of funerals, a few of his old dogs that had passed with age. The most important picture he had on those boards were ones of his best friend through elementary school all the way to middle school. Ryan was probably the best friend that he had ever been blessed with knowing. He died in a car wreck when they were in eighth grade, and that was the first and only time that Atchley ever cried in public. The tears streamed uncontrollably while he was in class for probably a week, seeing that his friend was in most of his classes, and every time he found himself looking for the familiar head of jet black hair and realized that he would never see it again, the water works just started up all over again. So one board had every picture Atch had of the two of them together, being stupid, playing music, or just hanging out. He missed those days.

He wasn’t expecting to meet her family any time soon. That would be completely and totally awkward, even for him. And he could turn any situation easily. But the random social activity of her sisters the one day he was there and had wandered to go to the bathroom, he made the mistake of offering a warm smile to be nice, and shortly after they hung around with him and Annie, acting as if they actually gave a shit about her. He could tell by the way that they were looking at him that all they wanted was to get with him, and that they were stripping him down behind their eyes. Normally Atchley would have found this flattering and might have humored them, but not with Annie around. And even more so, not with people she was someway related to, blood or not. That was just way too low rent and Jerry Springer like for Atchley to resort to. He wouldn’t do something like that.

Since the first night, Atchley had never offered Annie pot again. He wasn’t about to get her hooked on the shit now that he actually gave a shit about her. If she wanted it all she would have to do was ask, but he wasn’t going to offer it up. For some reason he found it easier to be around her when he was high, maybe because it took the edge off his nerves, or maybe just because she seemed to like him better when the smell clung freshly to his shirt and his eyes were a little bit red and glazed over. The instant calm that being high brought to him never seized to wear off easily, to the point that he wondered if once the pot wore off, it was just her that put him at ease no matter what they happened to be doing or where they were. Maybe that was completely off, but he had no idea. His mind was always coming up with random fucked up excuses for everything and anything that life threw at him. Sometimes it came in handy, other times it just confused him entirely and made things so much more difficult for him.

He could tell as soon as their lips touched that something was wrong. Her normally cold all over skin wasn’t the same today. Up close she looked a little grayish, and he could definitely feel heat coming off her face in waves that made him warmer. Atchley looked at her with a little bit of worry on his face. She was clearly worse today than she had been since he had met her. He couldn’t help but wonder what she had, why she was so sickly looking today. Even though lately she’d continuously gotten sicker looking, he never refused to hold her or press his lips gently to hers. Big fucking deal, so she was sick. It wasn’t like he’d never gotten sick before, and he was sure that if his immune system couldn’t fight it off that he would be able to deal with whatever he came down with. There he goes being all macho badass again. Someone needs to tell that boy that he’s not invincible.

She started to walk away down the hall, and Atchley bumped the door with the toe of his yellow Converse just hard enough to make it close and followed after her, the worried expression on his face growing in intensity as she stopped and coughed roughly, the sound ripping at her already hoarse throat. She turned and looked at him, biting her lip, and he smiled lightly at her. “Good. You okay, Love? he asked, his concern clearly coloring his voice as well as his face, the light blue eyes he sported touched with the emotion as well. He hated that she wouldn’t just tell him straight out what she had. It made him feel worthless when he couldn’t help. All he could do was hold her when she was freezing, and comfort her when she had a bad headache, which he found came quite often. The first time she got one when he had been with her it scared the crap out of him – she’d been in a lot of pain and it made him so mad that he couldn’t do anything but hold her until she fell asleep, murmuring quietly to her that everything would be okay and it would go away soon.

It seemed so pathetic to him that this was all he could manage to do. It was like no matter how many Advil’s or anything else he offered to her, nothing could really help. He sometimes even considered maybe slipping her something to make her sleep, just to make her stop hurting. Atchley looked at her still, hoping that soon she would be okay again. It looked like she was in the middle of a cold sweat, and the bags under her eyes gave away that she hadn’t been sleeping much lately, or if she was, she wasn’t sleeping well. That made him want to steal her away so he could make sure she made it through the night. He was up all night anyway watching reality television and getting stoned anyway, so he might as well designate these efforts into something that would help other people too. His iPhone vibrated in his back pocket signaling that he had a call coming in, but he reached back and hit the lock button on the top, not even looking to see who it was before he ignored it.

Atchley was on Annie time now, and no one was going to make him split his attention, especially now when he could tell that she was feeling so horrible. He reached out to her, his right hand moving to her waist as he took a step closer to her, looking down as he used his left hand to brush some hair away from her face, the precise application of her eye make up not hiding the hollowness around them. She seemed so damn tired that he wanted to make her lay down right then and there. But that would be a tad over controlling, am I right? Yeah, Atchley wasn’t one for ordering people around. He was pretty easy going on that for the most part. They’d known each other for quite a few weeks now, and he felt like he was close to her now, closer than he’d been to anyone in quite some time. It made him incredibly happy, he wasn’t going to lie. It felt so good to have someone that you could trust not to judge, someone that you could spend every minute with and not get bored. Atch felt loved, warm even. She felt like home.

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • <3 first post over 2k, hell yes.
word count • two - zero - three - zero
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
[/size][/color]

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

[/color][/size][/font]

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honestly, her life wasn't as terrible as it could of been. she had a home. she had a family, two families actually. she had clothing and food. she had a bed and her own room. she had a bathroom, a daily warm shower. plenty of money at her fingers tips, all she had to do was ask. but she would never ask. never ask her father for something. only because she couldn't really think of him as her father. what had he done for her? had sex with her mom? helped raise her, just barely, for a few years? bought her clothes? bought her a computer? tried to do anything just to shut her up was more like it. when annie was younger she used to try. she used to want the attention. but as she grew up she cared less and less. not because she bought her more things, but because she found it pointless. she could kick and scream all she wanted, no one was going to come running. if she died, she figured they'd all breath a sigh of relief and get on with thier merry lives. she wasn't wanted within her own home. that was exemplified through her mothers wish to keep her out of the wedding and her father's constant real life away status. but she honestly didn't mind that too much. she'd found other ways to feel wanted. especially as of late. so she didn't complain. she didn't vie for attention. again. everything else in ainsley's life was far from terrible. she could've been living on the streets. she could've had no home or parents. she could've been in foster homes. she could've been suffering from malnutrition. though she was already doing that to herself on her own time. she could've been addicted to shit. she could've been someone entirely different--though she wouldn't argue if this difference involved tan legs and a long neck. overall her life was ok.

aside from being sick.

annie... hardly though of it anymore. it wasn't a big deal, she figured. she'd been lucky. the doctors had spotted and diagnosed her at a young age. about three or four, when it really started to act up. for a few years she was in and out of chemo therapy. and it went away. successfully, to an extent. ... they thought. when she turned eight she went back on the chemo therapy, per request her mother. it was simple enough: she didn't want to get dubbed a terrible mother because she didn't give her daughter chemo therapy. so, she told her father about it and he paid for it all. no problem. but they never seemed overly concerned about it. they never wept at her bedside, or bought her extra special gifts, or babied her. she was just there. and she was sick. sucking up all of thier money. sucking up all of thier time. sucking up all of thier effort. she was a waste. more of less. she'd always been treated as such. and by the time ainsley reached twelve, bald head looking as white as the clouds above and limbs shrunken a few sizes--looking like a seven year old more of less--she decided to quit treatment. her mother battled her on it for a little less than two minutes. the conversation was basically, "are you sure you want to quit, you might die?" to which annie retorted, "i know. i'm done." and that was that. she quit chemo and she actually stayed in remission from then on. until now. her parents didn't pay much attention so they didn't notice. her step sisters to be only acknolwedged it when she was sitting at the dinner table hacking up a lung. at which point they just said something like, 'ew, that is so gross.' her mother ignored it. and her dad spent hardly any time around her at all to be able to even experience one of annie's coughing fits. she was getting worse by the day and the only one that seemed concerned was atchley. god, what would she do without him? but... she wouldn't tell him. she wouldn't. there was no point.

...wait. i never mentioned what she had. right. lukemia. you must've figured with the whole chemo and all it had to be some sort of cancer. but yeah. lukemia. the cancer of the blood cells or bone marrow. they'd never classified it any further, per annie's request, therefore giving her two options: the kind that killed her immune system or the kind that happened in her bone marrow. they only knew that it was chronic. chronic lukemia. yep. meaning severe headaches, flash fevers, cold sweats, migranes, fatigue in the worst way, coughing, sore throats, etcetera. honestly, she didn't mind anymore. and she wouldn't mind at all if atchely didn't ask her if she was ok so much. normally she'd just sit in her room all day, completely aware of the fact that she was slowly dieing and wait till it got too bad. but with him around that was a little difficult. and she was not going to limit her time with him. or, god forbid, cut herself off from him entirely. if anything he made the whole thing better. he was a bit of a distraction, when he stopped asking her if she was ok and just let it be. after she normally waved it off as some sort of cold or sore throat. and she always felt better after he left. not to mention she hardly even remembered she was sick when he was there. the only chore was getting him to believe her. and he was a bit stubborn. he got almost persistant as she had been with the apologies. and she'd start apologizing again... it it would help. if she thought it would make him shut up. but unfortunately that probably wouldn't happen. he'd remain persistent. and he'd continue to be concerned. her only hope was that waving it off after so many times and changing the subject would automatically lead him to believe that she was going to be fine. and with the proper meds and rest she'd be herself in little while.

...god, she hated lying to him.

like she didn't think that today would be any different. yes, he'd followed her. just like she'd expected, he always stood close by. and whenever he didn't she made it a happen to stick close to him. she didnt' understand why. but she did nonetheless. often she wouldn't even realize she was doing it and just snap out of it and realize she was sitting close to him, or leaning on him, or holding onto him or messing with his hair or tugging on his shirt or pulling at his socks. it was a habit. she just.. always had to be near him. he was warm. he was much larger than her. he was comforting. he was soft. he was atchley. and that was all she needed him to be. just to feel safe. to feel like everything was going to be ok. honestly, he needn't try any harder than that. just hold her. just be near her. it wasn't like she was afraid of death or anything. as soon as she'd realized what she really had going on with her body she'd accepted that it would probably happen. and a lot sooner to her than it would to anyone else. when she was younger she couldn't quite understand that. she didn't think it was fair. what had she done to deserve that? she hadn't even been alive that long. she felt like she was being punished--which probably egged on the feeling to fill a need. she felt like someone hated her up in the sky. it wasn't fair. but that was the way it was. she'd grown up to accept it. and therefore was no longer afraid of it happening. what she was afraid of was losing atchley. or... leaving him behind. or... not ever getting to finally do it with him. or... not ever trying weed. why in hell she wanted to try that she didn't know but she did. hell she didn't even get one of those make a wish things. that would require a parents submission. and her parents couldn't care less. so... she was stuck. in this place between knowing it was going to happen and being terrified all the same. she could easily go back on chemo. if she did it would have to happen now though. soonish. within the next couple of months. or she'd be gone within a year...

...ok, that scared her.

it felt like there was hardly enough time left. one year? god that was too short. she needed to stop him from asking. she needed a way to convince him that he needed to just... spend the time with her that he could now and stop worrying. because if he kept worrying then they'd run out of time. she just needed that time. he just needed to stop. she looked up at him, a frown tugging down on the corner of her lips and reached out, putting a hand on his stomach. there was no way she could convince him when she looked like this. damn this disease. he had stepped closer and she almost felt that feeling again. like she couldn't breath, like all she wanted to do was kiss and touch and feel. but then she'd feel bad. wouldn't giving in now... wouldn't doing it now make it worse if she left? if she was gone? then he'd have far too much to... no. she'd feel terrible. he asked a question, she knew that. and he had to know what the answer was. it was always the same. she was consistent in that. she felt her frown grow in size before she snapped out of it and forced a small, weak smile onto her lips, "i'm fine.

[/color]" her voice sounded scratchy, light. she pushed up on her toes, angling her head to the side and kissing just underneath his chin. "i promise,[/color]" she offered him another smile as she pulled away, her hand dropping from his stomach. finally she stepped back away from him and turned into her room. "it's probably... just a cold or something,[/color]" how many times had she lied to him with that excuse? too many. she headed for her bed, catching a glance of herself in the mirror and sat down, folding her legs indian style. "i'll be fi--" damn it. another cough ripped past her throat and she buried her mouth in both arms sleeves until it passed. how.. god she felt so embarassed every time she coughed in front of him. every. damn. time.

annie couldn't even look at him now. she glanced away, pretending to focus on something out the window and finished what she had been saying, her voice softer, "i'll be fine in a few days.[/color]"
[/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]

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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] DDDD:
word count ,[/color] one eight three zero.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- and another hoodie >_> barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[/center]
He was so insanely lucky, no matter how horrible he thought his life was. He had a nice house, enough clothes to support an army, so much food that he wouldn’t be able to eat it all if he tried. Atchley had more money resources than God, and yet that was never enough for him. Nothing was ever enough. He was greedy and complained constantly because something in his life was always wrong, whether it was he wasn’t craving what was in the fridge or a new version of the Mustang Shelby came out and he wasn’t able to get it yet. There were so many people living under bridges, or working three jobs just to keep food on the table. Yet he was just another trust fund baby who had never had to work a day in his life and wasn’t grateful for everything he had. He thanked his parents for the opportunities he had been given by being angry because they weren’t what he wanted. He smoked pot because he thought his life was so difficult. He drank and smoked like a fiend because he was stressed constantly otherwise. And really, what did he have to be stressed about?

Annie was what he was constantly stressed out about.

Atch may not have been treated with all the love in the world by his parents, but he knew that they loved him, they would just love him more if he wasn’t such a disappointment. He was so spoiled, just by having anything he could want at his finger tips. If that was taken away from him at any point, he would probably go insane and die, because he had no idea how to support himself. He had never had to, and it was after all an acquired skill, one that he wouldn’t even know how to go about getting. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to. Apart from having money and what not, he was free to do whatever he wanted really, his parents had pretty much completely given up on him. He partied, went out of the country whenever, and pretty much carried his condoms in a big ass sack. But not anymore. Now he was Annie’s. All Annie’s, and he would continue to be for as long as she wanted to keep him around.

Of course, he realized that he was getting as obnoxious with constantly asking if she was okay as she had been with the constant apology stream that spewed from her mouth the first couple of times they had hung out. Atchley knew that this was annoying, but he just wouldn’t be able to help himself. He was just worried. Atch was insanely stubborn, he always had been. No matter how many times that she tried to convince him she was fine, he wasn’t going to believe her. He couldn’t believe her, not when she was so sick looking, no matter how much she did to try to hide it. It just wasn’t possible, and there wasn’t enough pot in the world to make him not notice how each day she looked a bit worse, how each day her voice was a little harsher. But she wouldn’t budge, she refused even, flat out. It drove him insane that she just couldn’t be honest, when he had answered truthfully to every question she had ever given to him. Well, every question that he could think of right off the bat.

They were always near each other. Always in sight of the other, normally touching in some kind of way. Whether it was sitting side by side, holding hands, or anything else. It was like they were addicted to each other in the most dangerous of ways, and neither of them could figure out how to break the habit. She was always playing with his hair or tugging at him in some kind of way. Normally clinginess like that would freak him out and make him run screaming, but he actually didn’t mind it all that much for now. It felt nice when she touched him. Like there was nothing else that she would rather touch again. In his free time, he’d actually been practicing on the guitar the song Iris. He hadn’t touched anything but drums since he was fourteen probably, so his skills were very rusty, but the more he just ran through the tabs the easier it became, his muscles remembering their places on the strings more and more each day. Every time he heard the old Goo Goo Dolls song he couldn’t help but think of her.

If Atch had known the extent of her illness, he probably would have accepted it after a while. He would have been scared shitless though, constantly checking on her and such. But that would be after he learned and sat on it for a while. There’s no telling, high or not, how he would manage to handle that. He probably wouldn’t. Most likely he would yell and run, or cry or something. Who knew. She said once more that she was fine, and Atchley couldn’t help but think Wrong, so wrong the second the two familiar words escaped her lips and filtered into his mind. She was hiding things from him and he didn’t like it. He just wanted to know. Was that so horrible, to just want to know? He didn’t think so. But his irritated thoughts were silenced as she kissed his chin, and then promised that she was fine. God. She couldn’t honestly believe that he thought she was fine. It was so obvious that she wasn’t.

She made it to the bed, and he followed, walking a bit slower than she had, his eyes taking her in completely as she stopped mid word to cough yet again. Once again, there she goes, giving him more proof that something was wrong, something more than what she was letting on. He sat down next to her, the part of her hoodie she had used visible from where he sat. Atchley looked up at her and noticed there was a little bit of blood on the corner of her mouth, and when he looked down at her sleeve again, he noticed more of it there, setting into the fabric making a dark, ominous spot. “You just… Annie…, he stuttered, unable to find the words he was looking for. He couldn’t vocalize that she had just coughed up blood. Atch didn’t know what that meant, but it could not have been good.

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • damn ADD took my muse xD
word count • one - one - two - seven
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
[/size][/color]

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

[/color][/size][/font]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/center]

she'd dealt just fine with this whole thing up until now. and she really didn't think it was going to get worse or anything. so the point in freaking out about it and making such a big deal was non existent. that had been point on in her explanation to herself as to why she wouldn't tell atch. why make a big deal? why worry him about it? there was absolutely no point. she could easily keep it secret. she had so far. well... ok, so he was obviously worried shitless. he asked her constantly if she was ok, as exemplified through exhbit a, which was probably only one of many of them to happen today. and it made her feel a bit bad. to lie to him constantly. ok, not a bit a lot. but what would he say if she actually told him? what would he do? how would he react? would he be all, 'fuck this shit' and leave? would he cry--god forbid he cried that would absolutely kill her. what would he think? would he want to help her through it? would he want to be there? would he... oh god. what if she did die? how would he react to that? the thought of leaving him behind killed her. but what more could she do? the chemo practically killed her itself. so there seemed to be no point. she was just fine. and for all she knew these weren't really side effects of the disease. for all she knew she really did have a cold. or strep throat or... what have you. she wouldn't know because she had no transportation to a hospital. no one who cared enough to actually figure it out. up until now, her death seemed like the death of a flower in a field of them. non-important. no one would notice.

but now with atchley around things were a little different weren't they? things were a lot different. god, why in hell did she have to meet him now? why couldn't she not meet him? and why did he have to care about her so much? why did he have to stick around? why did he have to smell so good? why did he have to feel so safe? why did he have to be so warm? why did his smile have to give her butterflies? why did he make her so nervous? why did she want him and absolutely no one else? it wasn't fair. to either of them. she was going to hurt someone with her death. hopefully. well, that was if he wasn't just sticking around in hopes that she'd finally give herself up to him eventually. hopefully he cared. hopefully her passing would matter. actually... no scratch that. if he didn't really care then there was no one to hurt. then it wouldn't matter so much to him. he'd stare a moment, shrug his shoulders and find someone else. there were tons of girls out there. he'd find someone else. he'd be fine. sure, it'd hurt annie a bit, but what could she do? she was going to die. so what was the point in worrying about how she felt. her feelings wouldn't matter in a bit. yeah, that was why she couldn't tell him. because it all really would be better off otherwise. there were just so many things that they could do if she just didn't let him know. if she kept that shrowd of imminence from hanging over his head as well. she could deal with the constant questions. she could. she could handle it. at least it made her feel like he cared about her.

he followed her, just as she assumed he would. once again, giving her hope that he cared. and it would make her smile, if she hadn't been coughing up a lung. he sat next to her and the next thing she knew he was talking again. and she wouldn't have minded, she wouldn't have bothered to say, i'll be ok, or anwered whatever he'd say if he hadn't said what he did. which kind of confused her for a moment. she looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed together in the obvious confusion that had set in. that was before she could taste it. god, it tasted awful. she'd coughed up blood before but it that didn't change how disgustingly coppery it was. her eyes widened as she followed his line of vision to her sweater sleeve and immediately a hand went to cover it up. damn it. damn it all. how do you pass something like that off as a cold? you don't. maybe she could say she bit her tongue...? no. he'd probably ask her to open her mouth and show him. he was acting so damn protective. hell, she'd love it if it didn't mean she had to tell him about all of it. if it didn't mean she couldn't lie anymore. her tongue immediately went to lick the drop from the corner of her mouth, she could feel it there and it only made her feel worse. god, the blood made her so nervous. maybe she didn't have as much time as she thought. and just the fact that he could see it. she was so embarassed. quickly she pushed herself up out of the bed and crossed the small expanse of the room to her dresser, her eyes still wide, her face burning just a bit warmer and her heart beating fast. what could she say? "it's fine, i'm fine, it's nothing.

[/color]" she muttered, carefully tugging the sweater up over her head. he wouldn't believe her no. she couldn't pass this off as a cold anymore.

she tossed the sweater aside, with a bit of disgust, both at the stain and at herself, and pulled open a drawer looking for a new one. did she have anymore? no. she'd worn them all already. and god, she didn't have enough energy to wash the clothes. she had nothing. just the shorts and tank top she was wearing now. everything else was dirty. everything else was't something she felt like putting on right now. keeping her eyes downcast, she shut the drawer and turned around. she felt like a complete idiot. a child, really. caught in a lie. damn it. she couldn't do this. not to him. her eyes remained on a spot on the floor, almost as if she were completely fascinated with it, and she allowed both arms to come up and around her frame, hugging herself. "it's nothing, i'm fine, just leave it alone.[/color]" yeah, right. as if he'd leave it alone. she could only hope. but the possibility of atchley leaving this alone was about a million to one. she was screwed.
[/size][/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]

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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] ): x:
word count ,[/color] one one three two.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- a tank top? D: barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[/center]
Atchley didn’t know why he had met her. Why he couldn’t have just gone on about his life in oblivious bliss, just sort of floating through a meaningless string of events until he finally found something worth living for. His entire world had been perfect with a few down falls that he was becoming better and better at living with, until he had to be bored that night. He just had to offer her weed, he just had to keep his promise and drive down to the harbor that abnormally cool night. It was then that Ainsley was pushed into his life at a thousand miles an hour, with her little frame and darkly rimmed eyes. With her timidity and her willingness to please, that Atch could never quite manage to understand. Maybe here soon he would finally understand. She meant everything to him now, every second of his damn day revolved around her. If she was warm enough, what she was doing, if she was feeling okay today. She couldn’t just blow him off like that any more. He was not going to have it. He hadn’t believed it since the first week she had said that over and over, but now he wouldn’t ignore it. Atchley felt like he couldn’t ignore it.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t necessary, it wasn’t likely. But no matter what he did, she was always in his thoughts. When he closed his eyes she was always there, the random huge smile that rarely crept across her face smiling back at him. Every touch of her cool body set him on fire, one that burned for minutes after her hands left his skin. Every time she looked at him, he felt like he was on the best kind of high, the type that made him think that weed was just a complete and total waste of time. In the short amount of time that he had known her, he was completely obsessed in the healthiest of ways. She was his reason for dragging his ass out of bed every morning. She was the reason for the stupid grin that was plastered to his face for the past few weeks. Annie was his everything. But why, why couldn’t she see it? Why couldn’t she just trust him to understand whatever it was that she was being haunted by? It hurt him that she wouldn’t just tell him. It wasn’t that hard just to admit it. His stubborn attitude was one fueled by ignorance, and if he had known the extent of what was wrong, maybe he wouldn’t have been so desperate to uncover the truth that was lingering just behind her skin.

He was so terrified for her, and he had no idea what he was even afraid of. He didn’t believe that it was just a cold, but it wasn’t like she was going to die from whatever it was. Right? Oh God. Please no, nothing that serious, nothing that life altering. That would completely kill him. Atchley didn’t know what he would do if she was really, really sick. But she couldn’t be. Even though she didn’t look it now, she was healthy, right? She was perfect. She was sixteen. She couldn’t be dying. That was just illogical. He stared at her wide eyed as she coughed up a lung, searching for something to tell him that she was going to be fine. No matter how many times the words escaped from behind her lips, he couldn’t bring himself to believe them. She tugged the sweater over her head, and said once again that everything would be fine, that she was fine. Atchley just closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to fit everything together in a way that would make some sense.

She searched for something to put over her tank top, and Atchley slid out of his hoodie and walked toward her, draping it around her shoulders. He looked down on her, looking like he was going to be sick himself. It wasn’t because of what she had just done. He didn’t have a weak stomach. Blood had never really bothered him before. It was what that blood signaled that made him feel like he was going to hurl right there on the spot. He was so, so glad that he had smoked another joint. He was going to need one as soon as he left her house, he knew that much for sure. Atch stared at her still, before he finally said, calmly but demandingly, “Do not try to give me that. That was not normal.” He could feel some water welling behind his eyes, and he blinked it back. Why did he have such a horrible feeling about this? Why was he so desperate to know? Another down fall of his. He had to know, it was yet another down fall of his. He put a finger under her chin and lifted it so she would have to look up at him. “Please don’t lie anymore. I don’t want to worry like crazy and not even know why I’m so terrified for you. Don’t tell me that you’re fine when I know that you’re not.[/color]”

His eyes were wide still, the moisture a bit harder to keep up as he stared into her eyes. His heart was pulling at him as the blood pumped harder, and he still felt like he was going to throw up. What the hell was his problem? Atchley repeated in his mind that everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. Like he said, she wasn’t that sick. It was probably the flu or mono or something. It couldn’t be anything worse than that. She was too young, too sweet, too perfect to be so sick. She just couldn’t be. Atch switched from it being one finger holding her face to his whole hand cupping it gently, and he placed his forehead lightly on hers. One tear escaped his eyes, whether it was because he was scared shitless or because he was so frustrated that he couldn’t take it any more, he wasn’t sure. “Please Annie. Please don’t hide this from me. I love you,[/color]” His voice cracked as he spoke. One more drop flowed lightly down his cheek, and the feeling of nausea grew in the pit of his stomach.

Holy shit. Did he just say what I think he did? Jesus Christ. He was going soft. He dropped his gaze from her eyes, finding it to hard, and opted to kiss her forehead before he nuzzled his nose into his hair, his eyes closing as he just concentrated on breathing. Atchley loved her. He honestly did, and he finally said it. It was like something he had never experienced before. It was like a word that he had never really knew how to pronounce with meaning, love was. But now, now he had said it for the first time and actually meant it. She was his world, she was his home, she was the last thing he thought about before he went to sleep and the first thing he thought about when he opened his eyes each morning. “I love you,[/color]” he said again, weakly, talking more to himself than to her. He just sold himself to the devil didn’t he? He was in for it now, he knew it. But what else could he possibly do?

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • ohmaigawd <3
word count • one - three - zero - two
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
[/size][/color]

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

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this was making her far too nervous. no one had really asked her before. no one had really cared before. no one had found out or made it matter. well, ok, in all honesty she’d never been this sick before. so that was probably the main reason for all of this. but then why did she have to be sick now when it really mattered? she could run through all of this over and over again in her head and not come up with any other reason that someone up there hated someone down here. those people namely being god and annie. but he must’ve hated atch too. what did he do wrong to deserve this? it was almost like she was reverting back to the way she felt when she was little girl. this wasn’t fair. he did nothing wrong. so what in hell was the reason for all of this? he shouldn’t have to suffer. he shouldn’t have to be put through all of this and yet here they were. going through all of this. it was like slow and painful torture. god knew what he was doing and he seemed to be enjoying it. weeks of getting worse, starting with the first night she’d met him. weeks of asking her what was wrong. weeks of lying. weeks of bitter sweet nothings. they got to know each other a bit, but what did it matter if it’d be over soon? what did it matter if whenever they talked from now on they never really got to enjoy themselves? they always had to remember that she was sick. they always had to keep that in mind. it would be like lying to him, but in a different way. she wouldn’t be able to handle him trying to make sure she was ok all the time. she’d feel like a toy on a display shelf. an antique. constantly under inspection. no, they’d have to pretend everything was ok, they had to pretend like the next day she’d be there. why in hell would they want to put themselves through that? was it not that obvious? she couldn’t tell him because she cared about him. and telling him would only hurt him. why was he so damn stubborn?

he was making this so hard. she just wanted to curl up in a corner and die. and it was almost as bad as their first night together. she was almost as nervous. she as almost as ashamed, as embarrassed. she was almost as terrified. except she wasn’t laying buck naked in front of him. she was clothed, she just… looked ill. and she was basically admitting to have been lying to him. she was basically telling him she wasn’t going to be there. who would ever enjoy telling someone that they were sick? that they had leukemia? that they were dying? no doubt he’d break down. everything manly about him would be striped free and then she’d break down and then their meeting would be a waste. wouldn’t it? who enjoyed crying? who enjoyed being terrified? this wasn’t going to be fun at all. couldn’t he understand that? why didn’t he just want to enjoy this. he had to know this wouldn’t end well. he had to. and she just couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting this. she was doing this for him. because she… honestly didn’t matter at all. to ainsley that had always been how it was. she didn’t matter, everyone else did. and that wasn’t changing now. no matter what he wanted to say about that. ok, so she’d tell him. but he’d better not make a big deal out of this. yeah, she could tell him. she could do it. i mean… it wasn’t that big of a deal. so she would. he just had better not make this into a big deal about her. she’d gotten over it. …he could too.

so why was she so scared to tell him now?

“do not try to give me that. that was not normal.” she felt like she was being scolded. again. like she was a little kid caught in a big fat lie and he was her father, yelling at her. she flinched a little, hugged herself tighter, kept her gaze down. her eyes moved warily over to the sweater, amazingly enough the fabric had landed stain up. imagine that. like it was mocking her as well. damn it. she just wanted to go over to it and kick it out the door. stop it from staring at her. she wanted him to stop. couldn’t they just spend time together without thinking about this? another scratch started up in her throat and she swallowed slowly in an effort to make it go away. damn it. she couldn’t cough again. that would only freak him out more. more so than in a few minutes when she’d tell him the truth… “please don’t lie anymore…don’t tell me you’re fine when i know that you’re not.” why in hell was he trying to make her feel so bad about this? didn’t he understand that not telling him was hurting her as well? annie didn’t particularly love lying. what the hell. she looked up at him, only because she had to now, avoiding his gaze when he was trying to get it would seem a bit harsh. she found herself secretly grateful for the sweater he’d wrapped around her. the less of her that could be seen the better. the less exposed she felt. god, looking into his eyes was so damn hard. when had it ever been this hard?

his hand shifted and she felt herself shiver. no, not because she was cold, but because of his touch. she’d never not reacted in that fashion to his touch. god. she loved that touch. he leaned his forehead against hers and she felt herself exhale, slowly, that scratch had vanished moments ago and she blinked. god, why was he doing this to her? “please annie. please don’t hide this from me. i love you.” …

she froze. what? pardon? what? her eyes widened and she looked up at his. they were closed, and a moment ago she would’ve thanked god for that, but right now she just wanted to look at them. she just wanted to see if he was… fucking… serious. her mouth hung slightly agape. she was… speechless. he… he what? how could he… was he serious? why was he… why now? this made it… it made it so much more…

"i love you." he said it again and she felt like this one was a blow to the heart. she didn't expect this. never expected it. so why now? god, he had terrible timing. now there were two things weighing down on her. don't get me wrong, she wasn't about to tell him she didn't feel the same way, that this was just a sick joke she liked to play on boys before she knew she'd pop out of remission again. but the realization that... yeah, she actually did love him, made it so much harder. mayb now she didn't want to die. maybe now it was a bit less fair. she wanted to keep him. forever. she wanted him to be hers as much as he must know that she was his. she didn't want to lose him to a childhood illness.

wait... was that a fucking tear? again she breathed in sharply and lifted her hands to his face, wiping away the salty liquird with her thumb, the sweater falling off her shoulders. “atch…

[/color]” oh my god, oh my god, don’t cry. don’t cry. please. she needed him not to cry. god, christ. no crying. she felt the warmth behind her eyes as well. why was he fucking doing this. this was the wrong time. not now. not ever. “please, please don’t cry,[/color]” not now. he couldn’t do this now. she’d tell him, just please don’t cry. he kissed her forehead and she felt like her heart stopped for a moment. all of this, all together. all at the same time. it was tearing her apart. breaking her heart. she brought both hands up to either side of his neck and kissed just next to his adam’s apple. “i’m…[/color]” what... i'm what? i'm dandy? i'm fine? no, she couldn't say that to him. he knew now, he knew that something was up. lying to him anymore wouldn't be right. it wouldn't be fair. i'm... sick? too vague. and no way in hell would she tell him right now about her disease. yeah, it was life altering. as was what he had just said. how could he do this? he picked the wrong time. this was the wrong time. "you can't do that to me.[/color]" she croaked, her voice scratching it's way up her throat. she could feel it. she was going to cry. right now. damn him. was this what he had wanted? because this is what he was getting. ainsley felt a tear of her own slip down her cheek and she sniffled softly, both hands still pressed lightly to either side of his neck, her cheek now resting on his chest. the weight of his head on her own was almost too much. almost more than the weight of what she knew she had to say that rested on her shoulders. how do you tell someone in the same sentence that you have lukemia and you love them? how do you do that? especially when you're ready for one and not for the other. she was ready to admit to him that she loved him. wasn't it obvious? i mean... hell she'd only realized it herself just now. but in everything she did... the smile on her face when she saw him, the way she couldn't keep her hands off of him. the way she lit up just knowing that he was going to be around. it had to be obvious. it just had to.

her eyes burned harder at this realization and she felt her chest start to heave, not only from the imminence of a sob but from the itch of a cough that was making it's way up her throat. damn this cough. damn this disease. she breathed steadily, making an o shape with her mouth in an attempt to calm down. she had to do this, she had to be fair to him. she had to be honest. "atch,[/color]" she pulled away from him forcing him to look down at her like he'd forced her to look up moments ago and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, she had to do it. right now. "i... love you. i-i promise. i'm not just... saying it... becauseyoudid--[/color]" again she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed, how could she put this? "because...[/color]" she couldn't help it now, the words just started to flow out. she just needed to explain it to him, make it clear to him. " that would just be terrible with what i'm about to tell you. and that wouldn't be fair to you if i didn't really mean it. but i don't want to not say it just because i won't always be around, because i don't think that would be fair to me. and i know it doesn't make sense, i just want you to understand that i do love you. i do. and i'm not trying to lie to you it's just really, really hard for me because i'm afraid of what you'll think. and i don't want you to leave me, because i... i tell myself i'm not but i'm scared to death and all i really want is to have someone to be there with me. i want to be told it's ok. and i'm afraid if i tell you you wont be there and... i'm... but... butthat'snotfairtoyou... is it? c-cause i'm.... i.. i won't always... be here either.[/color]" she blinked up at him, as the word vomit came to a close, hoping he'd get something from this. when all she really wanted to say is i love you and i always will, even if it seems like someone who isn't alive... can't love. all she needed to tell him was she had lukemia, really, because that was all he asked. but that is not how you tell someone you love them and you have a sickness in one sentence. because that... is impossible.
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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] gah. >_<
word count ,[/color] two zero eight zero.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- a tank top? D: barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[/center]
Why the hell did Atchley need to know? Why did he have to question the way the world worked? Why the earth rotated on it’s axis, why the sky was blue, why the grass was green. He could never let things just be. Everything had to be spelled out, every “I” dotted, every “t” crossed. Now, Atchley was well aware that there were some things in life that he could never know, but that didn’t stop him from wishing, from observing, from trying to figure out why everything was the way it was. He couldn’t help himself. It was just the way he’d always been, and he was sure that his curiosity would be the death of him. Or if it wasn’t the death, it probably wouldn’t help his case at any point in a way that was swinging him toward heaven. He really was pretty knowledgeable if you thought about it, not going to lie. Before he had discovered it was much less time consuming to goof off and fail, he’d gotten amazing grades.

One day a teacher told young Atchley what he had already known, but refused to fully accept. She said that there were some things that people may never know, whether or not they were meant to. Take for example dinosaurs. When he was little and he read picture books or whatever involving dinosaurs, which he had been quite fond of, to be honest, he had always assumed that the person doing the illustrations for the book had colored them based on fact. That if a dinosaur was green in a book, then that particular breed of dinosaur was in fact green. As he grew older, he learned that no one would ever know the color of the dinosaurs by looking at their bones. Atch refused to take that as an answer. How could there be so much technology in the world and we couldn’t figure out what color the damn dinosaurs were? She told him that it all depended on your imagination, but Atchley thought that was a bullshit response too. Some day they’d know what color they were.

He was pushing her toward the edge, he knew it. He knew he was making this much more difficult than it had to be. Atch knew it was hard for her to tell him about whatever the hell it was that was eating her alive. This was one of the few things that Atchley did not want to know. This gaining of knowledge was not going to be out of mere curiosity. This was out of sheer terror that he was going to lose her. This was going to be a desperate way to figure out what was wrong with her so he could find a way to fix it. Oh he had to find a way to fix it, to stop it, whatever he had to do. He would max out every bank account to his family’s name if that’s what it took. Sure his parents would disown him and Diesel. But he’d find somewhere. He’d find a way to get by. As long as he had Annie. Ainsley was all he needed to survive, all he needed to keep that smile on his face. He’d do anything to make her okay. He’d give her all he had, right down to the heart that pumped warm, red liquid through his veins.

Perhaps his tone had been a bit harsh, a bit reminiscent of a father scolding his child after he broke a plate, or hit a baseball through the neighbor’s window. It reminded Atchley of his many arguments with his father, ones in which he had stared defiantly to the space between Mr. Enright’s eyebrows, not saying a word, the anger boiling up through his skin. It angered him how much he sounded like his father when he talked to her just then. He wished he could have taken it back. But he couldn’t. He didn’t change his facial expression at all, just lightened his tone a little as he continued on with his plea. He needed to know. He needed to. Atchley didn’t care if it’d be the death of him. He just needed, wanted, pleaded for her to tell him what was plaguing her.

A shiver ran through her, Atch could feel it on his finger tips, but it didn’t distract him now as it normally did. He knew that more likely than not it was just a reaction to his skin, to his smell, to his touch. Annie always reacted like that when he touched her. Normally it was very, very appealing and made him want to lay her down and kiss every inch of her. Not now though. This time it hardly even registered in his thoughts, let alone made it downstairs. His eyes flicked open and her mouth was hanging slightly ajar, her eyes wide and shocked. If it were under lighter circumstances, he probably would have grinned. Maybe slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her as hard as he could without being violent, as if to prove his point. Now, however, was simply not the time. He was about to cry, and he knew that if he tried to be normal he would end up being completely distraught here in a few moments.

She wiped a tear from his face, and his clear blue eyes stared directly at her, his name slicing through the air like a knife. Her plea for him not to cry took a moment to sink in, and he pulled a deep breath through his nose, trying to make sure that he wouldn’t lose it. He didn’t even know why the hell he was being so emotional. Maybe he wasn’t so heartless after all. Her hands found his neck, and he felt her cool lips next. His knees felt weak. Atchley thought he might end up sitting on the floor looking like someone just told him his best friend died. It would be like a slap in the face, a repeat of his middle school years without his Ryan. He wasn’t sure if he would ever recover if he lost her like that. No, he knew he never would get over it if he lost her like that. It was simply not possible. But she couldn’t die. No that wasn’t possible. How could she die? She was so young. Too young.

“Do this to you? I’m worried sick and I have no idea why…” he trailed off, his heart dropping to his feet. She forced him to look at her, and started to speak, starting once more with his name. he wished she would quit doing that. He felt the faintest of smiles pass his lips as she said that she loved him, and he felt a little bit better. But that teensy bit of warmth disappeared immediately as she spoke again. He found his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as she spoke, saying that she won’t always be there. His mind was struggling to keep up with her words as the feeling of dread increased in volume in his stomach. When she finished, his mind was reeling and Atchley tried to make sense of the words that had just floated in a jumble out of her mouth.

He took a breath and stared at her in complete and utter confusion, before finally finding the air to speak. “Annie. First, I would never leave you. You don’t have to be afraid of what I think. You should know this, that I’ll accept any little imperfection, any little thing that makes you who you are. I know you’re not trying to lie to me, don’t ever doubt that I don’t believe you. But really, you’re not able to hide that you’re sick with something that’s bigger than what you say.[/color]” Atchley felt a lump rise in his throat. His mind was still trying to process everything, and it was failing so miserably. Atch just wanted to under fucking stand. Why couldn’t she just quit giving him the run around? All he wanted was to know what to say, know what to do that would help her. He needed her to let him see.

“What do you mean, you won’t always be here?[/color]” Then it dawned on him. Maybe she could die from whatever this was.

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • oh my god. that was an epic failure. haha
word count • one - four - five - seven
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
[/size][/color]

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

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when annie was a little girl she had made a list. it wasn't a long one, or anything filled with overly exciting happenings or items or... thoughts. it was actually rather short, written on yellow lined paper in one of those silly sparkly pink gel pens. because when ainsley was younger... her parents didn't really keep things from her. she didn't live a sheltered life like other kids. no one was told to watch thier mouth around her, and they didn't come up with silly reasons for why the sky was blue or why rice krispies snapped, crackled and popped. fairies weren't to blame for odd occurances such as things disappearing or rainbows in the sky. annie didn't believe in the easter bunny because she never got baskets of candy on easter or found eggs laying around the house. she didn't believe in sant because christmas... didn't realy exist. she was lucky if she got a new outfit with her mother or father, whilst all the other parents were out raiding the stores for the mountain of gifts they'd give thier children. the tooth fairy was never even mentioned and therefore when she heard about it in school she thought it silly and pointless. teeth that fell out of your mouth were icky and gross. why would a fairy want such things and trade it something as valuable as money? silly talk. there was no sandman or mother nature. there was nothing. and so, obviously, they didn't keep anything about her disease from her. the doctors gave her parents a choice, you could tell her everything, or you could only tell her the positive things. the things that meant she would be ok, she'd get better. but they chose to tell her it all. if they were going to talk about it... she might as well know the entire deal.

so when annie knew she might die, and soon, she made a list. a small list of things she could do. because in her ward at the hospital, when she was getting her daily chemo treatments, a lot of people talked about them. lists. the little girls and boys. the nurses suggested them. and they even provided paper and crayons, colored pencils, markers. but ainsley made hers at home. with yellow lined paper from her mothers notepad, every sheet held the infamous coffee ring in the upper left hand corner. and a pink gel pen she'd asked for, and unbelievably gotten, when she went grocery shopping with her mom a few weeks prior. and she wrote down a couple things. a couple things that only a seven year old little girl would wish for without any knowledge of how they worked or what they meant... or how much time they'd take or she'd have. she wrote five things. one, get a puppy. this was soon crossed out with one single line because she figured that her parents would never ever buy her something as precious or expensive as a puppy. two, buy a really nice dress. because even when she was smaller her walls held cutouts of the girls in the magazines. she liked dresses, what could she say? and she even had a little picture drawn next to it. not the best drawing, but give the girl a break, she was seven. three, a boy. that's right. even at seven. she wanted a boy. now, probably not the way you're thinking now. then it was more like a friend, a boy friend. a boy that was a friend. because all the girls weren't nice. all the girls were prettier than her. and if she had a boy... then they didn't matter. hell she even specified, blue eyes and brown hair. hm... imagine that. four, a home. complete with a family and a room and four walls and a nice big bed and everything. definitely not what she had now. and five, to stay up all night. from sunset to sunrise. yes, by now annie had done that plenty of times... but none of them counted. she figured, at least. they didn't cause they weren't special.

and many a time she'd thought back on that list and thought about pulling it out and crossing some things off. she'd had a boy, but he wasn't special. he just hung around her and her around him. so she never crossed that one off. her dad bought her a really nice dress. only because he was leaving her with her mother for a month and he thought he could make up for it. the dress was too big. and it wasn't at all what she'd imagined. despite the number on its tag. she had a home, four walls, but obviously, since she had that when she wrote the list, that wasn't what she had been thinking of. and annie often thought that perhaps she was being too selfish and the home she thought of was perfect enough. and each time she stayed up, sunrise to sunset, she felt like her little self would be content with it. but she never crossed anything out. aside from the line that ran through 'get a puppy'. that sure as hell wasn't happening. but it honestly didn't matter anymore did it. those were dreams she'd held when she was a little girl. so she didn't still feel the same about them... did she? no. so why she even kept the little folded up piece of paper was beyond her. but she never once thought about tossing it out. and she took it with her. from house to house. it was important to her, despite what it entailed. childhood dreams that would probably never come true by the time she turned eighteen, which might as well be the day she died. her eighteenth birthday. she might as well mark it on the calendar. hell she was her own dreams fighting her own disease. she wouldn't take the chemo and therefore she dropped all hope. but agian... was it really worth it?

would it be worth it to tell atchley about the list? why was she even thinking about it now? was it because the little piece of paper always made its way into her mind at the worst times? when she was getting really sick? when it seemed like the worst moment to tell someone something? it was like a dirty little secret she held. but no, telling atchley... that would only make it more real wouldn't it? he'd probably break down and cry in front of her like he was right now. which was only making it harder for her to figure out how the hell to just tell him what she had. just like he'd asked. she was beating around the bush, per se. and he probably couldn't take much more of this worry. just like she couldn't take much more of his tears. seeing a fullgrown boy... in tears? who took that seriously? wouldn't most girls kill to see a guy cry? well, they might say so but didn't they always not really mean it? i mean, really, who wants to see a guy cry? gah, nevermind. this wasn't the point. the point was that she had something important to say and no way to say it. in essence she was fucked. she couldn't just... blurt it out at him... could she? well...

she stared him square in the eye. every word he was saying only made her more certain that perhaps he could take such news. maybe he'd understand and he wouldn't get mad. all before the realization of her last statement found it's way to his lips. "what do you mean, you won't always be here?" oh god. it actually scared him. that she might not be here. it scared him. god, but she... she couldn't lie to him anymore. she couldn't do it. he wanted the truth. he wanted it now. if she was going to lose him she might as well not get deeper into this. she might as well stop digging a hole next to the grave she'd already so perfectly dug and get it the hell over with. if he was going to leave her... he'd oughta leave her now. she swallowed, slowly, her eyes never leaving his and finally let the sentence free, "atch... i have lukemia."

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] wow this sucked, forgive me? -_-
word count ,[/color] one three eight nine.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- a tank top? D: barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[atchley]

slow it down, make it stop
before my heart is going to pop
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[/center]
Atchley’s entire childhood had been spent trying to figure out what to do to get on his father’s good side. Nothing ever worked. Music made things worse. But of course, Atch had come to the conclusion that he was just an over all disappointment and that was the end of the story. He had thought that sex was all he was capable, love was something he would never understand let alone deserve, and that he was never going to be good enough for anyone. He wasn’t sheltered in any way. If he asked where babies came from, he didn’t get the cliché “When a mommy and a daddy love each other…” speech. They just told him straight up about sex and all that good stuff, at the ripe old age of seven. Looking back on the experience now, Atchley couldn’t help but laugh his ass off at how amusing his parents had been, how honest they were. He found out that Santa didn’t exist around the time of normal people, the same with the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny and everything else. Atch always got tons of gifts on Christmas, but nothing really outstanding. His birthdays were always events with big parties and lots of friends. But all of that doesn’t really make a difference in the happiness of people.

Now, Atchley has never really been one for ambitions. All they did was cause pain when you didn’t reach them, or the victory didn’t taste nearly as sweet as you had always imagined. When teachers asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, the answer was always the same. He was always chasing after the fame. Fame would mean that he was accepted into the world, that people loved him, that people wanted him. However, the older he got the less vivid those dreams always became. The roar of the crowds was always a little quieter, the lights a little dimmer, the music a little less extraordinary. All of it had just about slipped away from him now. As of late though, none of that mattered. Any dream he had revolved around Annie. And every dream was just as good as the reality. By this I mean that every time he woke up he was disappointed when he didn’t see her next to him. It was hard for him. He had never been the clingy type by any means. But Atch had become oddly dependent on her recently.

He had everything he could want, really, at his finger tips. Atchley could feed his car fetish, he could buy new shoes to replace the ones Diesel ate (he had actually started buying his shoes in two pairs at a time, just to make sure one was safe), he could wine and dine girls to the extreme. He could afford to give them nice things, and he could give them the world. As much as he’s tried to give girls what he knew he should, none of them had seemed to be worth dropping a couple grand or more at Tiffany’s. She on the other hand, she was worth that much and more. He wouldn’t hesitate to give her anything she ever asked him for. She could ask him for a giraffe, and by God he’d figure out a way to get her one. Okay so maybe she would never ask him for that, but if she did, he’d obey. She had him whipped, not going to lie. The worst part about it all was that he liked it. Way more than he probably should.

Atch could not believe that he was seriously standing there in tears, and he didn’t even really give a shit that he probably looked like a little kid who just found out that his dog died. The fact that he’d been brought to the point of crying and he hadn’t even gotten the worst part of it yet amazed and shocked him. He wasn’t even sure that his tear ducts worked anymore. But she had managed to prove so, so many things to him in the short time that he had known her. She worked her way into his heart that first night, and he never wanted her to leave. Ainsley was the best thing he’d had in a while, and he wasn’t going to let go of that for anything. He would cling with every ounce of strength in his body, whether she wanted him to or not.

His mouth dropped into a little “o” of surprise at her words. Not the kind of surprised face that comes along with a surprise party, or when someone you love does something amazing to show you how they feel. This was a more ominous face, one that showed exactly what was going on in his head. Denial, confusion, fear, and pain. All of those things were contorted and twisted together on his pretty face, and his eyes were wide, watching hers, his entire world slowly crumbling around him. Why? That was all he could think. Why was this happening to him? To her? What did he do to deserve to have the people he loved yanked away from him? What did she do to have a disease like that? “How do I fix it?” His voice was quiet, his eyes trying to well again. All he knew was he had to fix it. Something had to be done right now. Atchley didn’t know what it was, or how to get rid off it, but he needed to fix it.

status • complete
tag • ainsley
notes • ick.
word count • nine - two - two
lyrics • the show by lenka
credit • AMANDA IN WONDERLAND !? @ caution
[/size][/color]

[annie]

little children whirling, laughing. they don't know they should be scared.
GIVE ME THAT HOPE, GIVE ME TIME TO LOVE.

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she should've known that would be his first response. it honestly was that predictable. which, in a sense was a bit scary. she knew him that well already? well. not necessarily. he just seemed like the type. one, he was a guy. and typically most men aimed to fix things, to make things better. because they all had this thing in thier mind that told them that they were superman, that they could handle anything. well, aside from her father, but he was not the point. honestly, annie wanted atch to be superman just the same. he felt enough like it. she felt safe around him, in his arms, talking to him, looking at him, telling him things. aside from her disease, of course. she liked that thought. him being superman, having the actual ability to fix things... felt so much more reassuring than if he were just a normal boy. like she knew he was. but he was atch all the same. and that wasn't changing. even if he wasn't superman, even if he didn't think like that, people with money often thought that way too... right? i have money, i can fix shit. that was what her father thought. he bought her things in hopes that he could fix thier relationship, he could get her to shut up and do things for him. of course that was how he thought. he didn't actually work. so if atchley thought either of these ways, the superman route or the rich man route... he was wrong. nothing could fix this. nothing. she'd let it go too far... hadn't she? she didn't want it fixed... did she? the chemo was just as bad as the disease, in her opinion.

but his words brought a smile to her face, all too quickly. though she knew now was not the time. he wouldn't think this was funny or amusing. he honestly wanted to fix this, didn't he. she shook her head softly and blinked once or twice, letting him realize the weight of her words, "you can't fix it.

[/color]" she wasn't lying to him this time. he really, really couldn't fix it. no matter how much money he had or how many muscles he built. he was still human. and this was still a disease. he'd still lose. no matter how much he wanted to convince himself otherwise. she wasn't doing chemo. she never would. it made her feel worse than she did now. oh wait, imagine that, she hadn't coughed much in the last few moments. what did i say about him being good for her? yeah, right. all he could do was be around. she wasn't letting the chemicals eat her alive. it made her sicker. it made her whiter. it made her more tired. it made her weaker. it made her bald. how would he like her then? in all of her bald, white and weak glory? there was no way he would like that. couldn't he just accept this a move on? couldn't he just... get mad at her and leave? that would make this a hell of a lot easier. then she could just sit back on her bed and rot away. her mom and dad wouldn't be the least bit concerned. she could die and be left there for days for all they cared. honestly. that'd be so much better tahn suffering through the pain of hurting and seeing him hurt as well. he needed to get mad. she needed him mad.

and yet, at the same time that would suck. ok. so he couldn't fix this. she'd told him that. but she knew just as well as the next person that he wouldn't accept that. no way in hell would he accept that. with his mentality he'd put up a fight to the death to see the end of this resolved. she knew that just in the way that she saw him force her to tell the truth about her being sick. he had to know the truth, he had to seek out ways to do things. he had to be in control. twenty four seven. at least... that was what she'd gotten from it all. atch liked to control things. he liked to know what was going on, he liked to be in charge of how things worked, how they happened. but didn't most guys like to be in charge? so yeah, this had to be typical. this had to be expected. she had to know this was going to happen. and then, as a result, she had to know that she was going to have to explain to him the reason why he couldn't help her. the reason why he just had to let it go. she woudl have to tell him straight out that she was basically the one letting herself die. she was the one reason he had to worry, like she hadn't been before.

she looked at him, just about ready to throw her hands in the air and give in. just tell him he could do this, but he couldn't he just couldn't and he had to know why. she licked her lips, hesitantly and bit down on the bottom one, allowing her gaze to drop to some point on his chest. "you can't... because i've accepted it. i-i.. atch, i-i'm going to d... die. there's nothing you can do about that. i stopped... i stopped chemo because it makes things harder. it m-makes... it makes it worse.[/color]" she finally allowed her gaze to shift back up to his and somehow found that little ounce of strength in there to push through these words, say what had to be said. and honestly, she didn't think she'd talked so much about this in her life. "atch i accepted it when i was a little girl. my parents... my parents didn't lie to me they t-told me what was going to happen. it's going to happen. y-you can't fix it and neither can i, i mean... i-i even m-made this list and everything because.. because i knew i wouldn't have a long time. s-so the sooner you a-accept it too... the better.[/color]" she blinked once... twice and looked away, letting her hands drop from either side of his neck, "i'm sorry, butyoucan't.[/color]" her words ran together as she felt another cough scratch at her throat. ah, to hell with it. holding them in wasn't going to help anything. she let another cough rip up her throat, trying to bury her face in arm and turning away from him slightly. even if she couldn't get him sick... she didn't want him seeing her sick.

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tagged ,

[/color] william atchley enright.
notes ,[/color] eh, fail. i'm so out of it rn. -_-
word count ,[/color] one one one zero.
clothing ,[/color] another pair of short shorts -_- a tank top? D: barefoot. :3
lyrics ,[/color] intro - the hush sound
template ,[/color] meeeh D:
banner ,[/color] zoerrrrr <3333
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