<3 DESTINY <3 ( Renny and Maple )

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet wasn't really dreaming, just in a dead sleep due to her brain and body recovering from the influences earlier. But she was just starting to wake up slightly when she felt the bed bounce beneath her and the cover be yanked from her warm, half dressed body. Her eyes flashed open, though she was super groggy, and turned around as quickly as she could to see what had happened. Her eye brows furrowed when she saw Andrew on his knees, biting his fist and looking like he'd seen a ghost. The worried iris's of her scanned over him before crawling to the side of the bed and stare down at him. "Andrew..." she whispered, blinking the sleep away from her body. "What the hell. Are you okay?" she croaked, glancing at the clock herself and realizing it was two in the morning. Her hair was frizzed in some places and her chest was very exposed as she leaned over the edge of the bed to make sure he was okay. 

    Something inside of her scolded her actions. You shouldn't be worried about him. You shouldn't even be here. It's just a place to spend the night, nothing else. Be a bitch. Don't let anyone see the gaping hole in your chest. That makes you weak.

    And yet she still watched him, trying to break out of her slumber state and gripping the edge of the bed tightly. 

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald

        Andrew couldn't control it. His reaction to the nightmares. They felt so real, because in a sense, they were real. He didn't look at Juliet, for a while. He didn't trust his voice. He'd never had terrors that before in front of someone. Especially someone he claimed to have loved at one point. He looked down at the floor, feeling tears soak the edges of his lashes. He blinked hard, hoping they'd just go away, but damn it, they wouldn't. Those demons he'd suppressed for so long. The feelings he'd banished. The guilt, the fear, the anger. The pure terror that drove him to drink.

        He finally took a slow deep breath, running both of his hands through his hair, pausing at the back of his neck, looking shaken. He stood up quickly. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he didn't sound fine. He was shaking. Out of control, pacing back and forth in his room. Drink, or not drink? Did it matter anymore. He eventually walked stiffly to his bathroom, flipped on the light and heaved into the toilet. Nothing came up, even though he felt sick to his stomach. He felt like his stomach was being wrenched out through his mouth. His heart too, if he had one. His legs shook violently, and he gained enough composure to stand up without sinking back to his knees, he flushed the toilet and stumbled to the sink. He ran ice cold water, splashing it over his face, and rinsing the metallic taste out of his mouth. He could almost taste the blood. His family's blood, and it made him sick.

        He looked up into the mirror, his dark eyes round and absolutely terrified. He dropped his head to his bicep, finally taking deep breaths that nourished him. His lungs seemed to not be screaming anymore, his throat didn't burn as bad as if he'd been screaming. His heart was still throbbing out of control. He shivered, his once over heated body now ice-cold. He sighed, shoulders slumping.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet's gaze followed him out of the room and into the bathroom. The sound of his heaving made her own stomach twist, reminding her she had like the biggest fucking hand over ever. Her jaw felt sore, probably from clenching her teeth while she slept, as she moved to slip out of his bed and check on him. Why she was helping him, she wasn't sure. Honestly she should've just let him have his freak out and go back to bed. But her curiosity - damn that curiosity - got the better of her and seemed to take control of her body. She'd seen Andrew act like this a few times before but not in the middle of the night. It kind of made her want to check onto the bed and in the closet for some cereal killer or something that had spooked him. ( if only she knew xD )

    Her toes wiggled in the soft carpet of the floor as she leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, her eye brows furrowed at him now standing and looking at his own reflection. "Andrew?" she tilted her head tot he side, studying him. Her curls were draped over her shoulder now; tamed with just a few runs of her fingers through the mass. The fogginess in her brain stayed there, making a dull throb take over and made her vision hard to focus on. She took a step forward, the pads of her feet tingling at the feel of the cold tile beneath them from the bathroom floor. "Are you sure you're alright?" she touched his bicep almost...lovingly. Then she instantly regretted her decision, pulling her hand back maybe a little too quickly before pressing her lips together and ooking around. "It's like you saw a ghost," she commented, tightening her arms around her almost completely bare chest. She was, after all, still in her under garments. But besides the cold, Juliet didn't feel one ounce of discomfort. She knew she was hot; wasn't afraid to show it off either. 

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald

        Andrew hated how he was shaking. He hated the nightmares. Now, he almost regretted no longer seeing his therapist. He had been a good guy, seeming to actually give a rat's ass about Andrew's past. But, like everyone else, Andrew had shoved him away too. When he first started seeing Dr. Fern, he didn't speak. Still too traumatized to even speak about what happened. He figured he was just a glass eyed twelve-year old. Eventually, he said he had nightmares about what happened, but wouldn't say what. Over the years, Andrew took sleeping pills to chase away the monsters inside of him. The memories.

        Eventually, Dr. Fern began to probe. Andrew fed him a different wild story every time. Dr. Fern never stopped trying, but Andrew did. He quit the sessions. Maybe he still had a few pills. No. He felt a hand on his arm and he glanced up into the mirror to see Juliet standing close. His eyes were wide, the dark circles around his eyes even more defined with the paleness of his skin. He looked even paler than usual, almost sickly pale, like he really had seen a ghost. He took in a deep breath, and looked down, turning off the running water. He scrubbed a hand over his face, running a hand through his dark hair.

        "Just a nightmare, that's all. " He whispered. "More like a memory," he thought bitterly. And here's the thing that happens when you get tired. That filter in your head get's holes in it. Big gaping ones, and damn was Andrew tired. He found himself saying the words out loud. "More like a memory," His voice was soft, but not quiet. Not too low for her to hear and the words echoed around him, all over the walls, screaming back at him.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet's eye brows were still furrowed as she heard what he said. It was a low mumbled, barely audible and more like he was talking to himself. She stopped her tongue, which was perched on the back of her tongue to ask the question on her mind. Knowing that asking him about hat was wrong, and really meaning it, was going to set a mark in motion. One, she didn't know she was ready to embark on. Was she ready to start caring about Andrew again? Had she ever stopped? Or would she always, deep down, feel for him and want him with her. 

    Fuck it she thought and her eyes flickered to look at him sternly. "What's that supposed to mean, Andrew?" her voice was serious, determined to know what he was hiding from her. She'd been great at telling when Andrew lied when they were together so long ago; he was a compulsive liar and she could see right past his bullshit. Just like he could see right past her 'I don't care' bull as well. The masks and exteriors they put up for the world to see never showed when they were together. And it was all coming back slowly. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out to grab his hand, slithering her fingers around his and gripping tight. "Come on," she whispered, nodding her head back towards his room so he knew she meant business. After she'd lead him back inside, she closed the door behind them and let his hand towards the bed. "Sit," she instructed, folding her arms over her chest after snapping on a lamp on his bedside table on so she could see the pale features of his face better. 

    Her head throbbed and her body was super fucking exhausted, but her brain was starting to clear up as best as it could while in 'hang over' mode. Her demeanor was like a scolding mother, expecting Andrew to fess up to what was going on. She of all people knew Andrew struggled with things, and unless things had changed while she'd been away, Juliet was the only person he'd ever opened up to. If he needed someone, and even if it had to be her, she'd be there for him. Because below her bitchiness and her strive to drive people away and be a slut; Juliet cared. 

    And especially for her Romeo. 

    "Spit it out," she curtly nodded to him, her eyes serious as they pinned on him. 

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald
       

 "Shit," That was probably the only thought that ran through his mind. He took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. He put his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face gently. He looked up to her. In the light he could see every part of her. Damn, she was sexy. He could see it. She cared. Even if she didn't know it, Andrew had a feeling she did give a shit. She gave a couple fucks. And suddenly he remembered when she'd asked him about family. He had lied several times, but she always knew it was bullshit. He'd teased her with stories, until he did tell her the truth. "Do you remember when I told you about my family?" He asked and nodded. Of course, she did. So he went on with the story. "I told you about my dad, my mom, my sister; Hannah." He paused, feeling like his heart was in his throat. "As I said, my father had many enemies as well." 

        "My mother, such a clever woman, had a little place built under the floorboards. A safe place to hide if someone ever broke in." He snorted softly. "It wasn't nice. Too many spiders and you could just see from under the cracks the ceiling. It was safe, none the less." He took a deep breath. "The spring before I turned thirteen, actually, it was about a month before my birthday, our house was broken into. My room was close to my parents. My dad went downstairs with a gun, while my mother grabbed me and put me in the safe place below the floorboards." His voice grew softer still, and he didn't look at her, just spoke, voice wavering, but not cracking yet.

        "My mom went to get my sister when I heard the screaming." He closed his eyes. "I heard my father cursing, my mother weeping, and my sister screaming. Men, I don't know who, still to this day, dragged them into my parents room, right above where I was." He swallowed hard, eyes growing misty and foggy with memory. He almost didn't finish, but the words were peeled off his tongue. Things he hadn't said to his aunt and uncle, to the police, not even to his therapist. But he said them to a girl he had known so well that had just flown right back into his life. He couldn't stop telling the story. "I didn't move, I didn't scream," his voice cracked a bit. "I just watched and listened. My father was first. I know, because my mother started screaming. They slit his throat. Then they let my mother and sister watch his life ebb away. My mother was next, she was crying and sobbing and it pained me. My sister started screaming the minute Mother was killed. Slit throat too. My sister they kept alive the longest, clipped off her hair, watched her scream and wail and cry and sob. Then they slit her throat and she hit the floor. By that time, my mother's blood was slipping through the cracks in the floorboards." He didn't know why he was going into such detail, but he couldn't stop. He was shaking by this point, a single tear slipping from his right eye.

        "It was so quiet," his voice was a whisper now. "Silent. Then, they left. The murderers. They let them bleed down through the cracks. And only when they were gone did I start screaming and pounding." He closed his eyes. "I couldn't get the latch open. My mother and sister's body where on top of the boards and I couldn't move it." He said, voice cracking, heart wrenching. "I knew what had happened. I was soaked in blood and tears and my voice was nearly broken when someone finally came and found me and my dead family. They washed off the blood, the tears, the sweat, but never the memories." His voice grew soft again, void of all emotions. He was quiet, before he murmured. "I've never told anyone that," But he still couldn't look at Juliet.

        He was afraid of what she'd do. Would she run out of the house screaming? Would she start crying? Would she hit him? Would she abandon him? Would she even believe him? That scared him. Being abandoned, lost, and told he was a liar. That was why he never told anyone that. He told theatrical tales, but that story, that was the utmost truth.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Her gaze never wavered, licking up every word he spoke like she depended on the knowledge of his past. But slowly as the depth grew to the tale, her eyes softened and her stance did as well. Seeing her Romeo so broken up by this-this disgusting situation that had tormented his life for years made her frown slightly. 

    Juliet's mind trailed back to when her and Andrew had first began telling each other things, deep things. He'd never once told her about this, so why was her telling her now? I mean, she'd asked, sure. But there was more to his explanation then just her dumb snarky curiosity showing through. She saw the tear trail down his cheek, which might've broken her if she had a heart to break. Instead it just made her feel a bit empty inside; she always had a soft spot for men she loved crying. Like her Daddy. But that was a different story. 

    Before she realized it, she'd tip toed to his side and coiled her arms around his body, nuzzling herself in the crook she remembered so fondly. Her heart was beating like the wheels of a steam engine, burning her ears with the throbbing pulse it quickened. One of her free hands grabbed his and squeezed it tightly while she just pressed him up against her, legs curled, cheek pressed into his damp shirt from the water he'd poured onto it. He smelt exactly like she remembered and it almost comforted her deepest emotions. But this wasn't about her. This was about Andrew. 

    "Saying sorry won't change anything," she whispered honestly, running her over hand over his shoulders in comforting circles. She knew he liked this gesture, that it relaxed him. Maybe if she got him to sleep it might make him feel better, because her just trying to be a help might not by itself. Juliet had left him behind, she didn't expect her comfort to go a long ways. "But I hope you know how pained I am for you." It was the truth, she felt sympathetic just because he was hurting. 

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald

        If Andrew had a heart, it would've broken again. It had been turned to liquid and dripped away with the rotting blood in his childhood home. After that night, he had never went back. Before long his Aunt and Uncle came to claim custody of a child they didn't really care for, but they felt it was their duty to their late brother. On the long train journey to the airport, Andrew had promised himself the memories would fade with the rolling grass hills of his former home; Ireland.

        Spoiler alert; they didn't.

        He'd felt like something died in that house. In that country. Something had been stolen from him that he could never regain. It wasn't his sanity, nor his humanity. After witnessing something like that, you grow numb after a while, glimpses of feeling exploding into him during nightmares and visions and the sight of blood. No, his peace of mind had been ripped away from him. Every creak in the night, every whisper of feet against the outside, every slap of a tree branch against the window. He'd never been able to feel truly safe.

        Until Juliet. And right now, he felt safe with her. Her arms twined around him, fingers drawing soothing circles in his shoulders and back. Maybe that's why he opened up to her now. He felt safer than he had, and when she'd left, he realized it wasn't safe to cling to her, to love her anymore. He'd drawn back into the reclusive, blood-stained shell he'd lived in before he met her. He didn't reply to her for a long time. He didn't know what to say. 

       "I believe you," he whispered lamely. His voice was void of any emotion. His body felt numb, and cold. Not even her touch could melt him; yet. He might have known her many years ago, but right now, they stood in two very different places than where they stood before. It was a harsh cold world, they now knew that. They were no longer sheltered by rosy fireplaces and safe walls. They tasted the real world, and now nothing could bring back that innocence.

        Although Andrew had tasted the bitter tang of a horrible, cruel life, Juliet had not quite yet. Now they both stood, nearly on regular level. They've looked into the faces of demons, danced with devils, sidled up with monsters, and glaring into the face of their nightmares. Before they'd seen fragments of horrors. Now all of it was pieced together in a terrifying picture. He glanced to her, feeling her warm body press up against his.

        He felt so distant from her, yet so close. It was odd. He knew she could not even fathom what had happened to him, yet she was sympathetic and understanding. Was it simply because what he felt, she did too? Even after years of separation? He wondered if she still felt for him the way he felt for her. He blinked and turned his head to press his face into her hair and forehead, breathing in that familiar scent. She never quite lost it, it was a bit of a different scent, but the pure scent of Juliet still shown through over the tons of perfume. Something he'd never forget.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet breathed in his scent, one which hadn't left him in the years they'd been separated. Her eyes held a glaze of pity for him, but she wouldn't let him see it because a) he most likely didn't want her pity and b) she still had to hold some what of a bitchy attitude up. (I could totally see her trying to act bitchy around him all the time and finally he's like 'you do know I know you, right Juliet? You don't have to play a role when you're around me' and so then she'll start acting like her old self a bit and we could have a totally dramatic thing where she is in front of other people with Andrew around and goes back into character and he gets fed up mmmhmm k revelation done now~). Her throat cleared so she could talk, letting go of him and pushing back some of the whips of hair on his forehead with a subtle smile. "Good." She realized her legs were practically on top of him and she felt herself blush, crawling away slightly. What the fuck? Juliet didn't blush. Why was she starting now with the only person she'd ever felt comfortable with?

    Maybe that was just it. Andrew knew the real her, the one she tried so hard to forget. The goody girl who hurt a lot and had fallen in love too quickly. The girl who wanted to please her Daddy all the time and just wanted every one to love her. So she was scared, honestly. She'd never admit it, but Andrew could see right past her bullshit someday and call her out on it and that meant she'd have to fess up to being a changed girl - in probably the worst way possible. Even touching him made her feel like he had his bullshit detecter on and was going to start screaming at her like a banshee for being the slut he knew she wasn't deep down.

    Peel back the hard, rock solid layers of Juliet's personality and you'd find the goody she'd been when Andrew and her first met. He was a jock, she was a cheerleader. Never once smoked, drank, popped pills, or even kissed a boy. Okay, that wasn't true. Danny Roberts was her first kiss but he'd grown up in her Daddy's church and was a loner in the school. Plus it'd only been on the cheek...when she was five. Anyways, back to the telling of her story. Soon, Juliet got thrown into the midst of the popular crowd, where she enjoyed being but didn't fall into the partying craze the rest were in. Andrew had practically swept her off her feet at first, and then things got serious.

    Her mother died. And she didn't know how to cope.

    Everyone in town seemed to know Laurel Dawna; she'd been homecoming queen three years running in high school, married her childhood sweetheart Mr. Dawna, and worked as the local librarian for as long as anyone remembered. She'd been full of love and life and always did her best to help the others around town if they needed it. She'd had Juliet at a young age, though married, when Harry Dawna (Mr. Dawna) became the town pastor and they opened a church. The church helped the needy and was very giving, a good, solid church. Juliet grew up as a pastors kid, glued to her Daddy's hip unlike every one would've thought; her mother had been the sweet one. Harry was a nice man, but stern, and very strict. Still, Juliet was as clung to her mother as her father, and she'd been raised to be a lot like her. Loved God and church and soon was known as the Pastors Kid around town. It didn't bother her much until high school when people began using it against her. The night her mother died, it was the first night Laurel had raised her voice at Juliet in years - they were in a screaming fight about her friends and decisions since she began the 9th grade. Soon after, Laurel decided to drive back to work to get her forgotten purse - and a drunk driver hit her head on. 

    To say Juliet spiraled out of control was an understatement. Drinking was the start. Then came drugs. Then she lost her popular friends, stuck to Andrew. Her father was too stricken with grief to do much in his life besides become a stone cold, strict pastor - all the life in his eyes seemed to diminish after his love had died. And the biggest thing he found himself doing was pushing Juliet away. He would yell and fight and all she wanted was to get rid of her pain and suffering, to have him love her again, but he didn't see that her reckless behavior was just to get his attention. So instead he punished her and she became addicted to the things that got rid of her heart ache - until she's really met Andrew. 

    Looking into his soft eyes, she tilted her head, remembering how he'd sort of saved her. She'd been in a dark place - so bleak in fact she might've even considered offing herself at the time - when he'd found her. Of course, they hadn't had a relationship at first. Oh no. Andrew and her bonded over mutual hate for the world, alcohol, pot, and sex. He'd been her first, and her next 100 fucking sessions until finally she'd told him she loved him. It'd been hard, harder than even watching her mother's coffin be pushed into the dirt ground so many years ago. Though the memory never left her mind no matter how much she drank to forget about her Romeo and how much he'd saved her. Andrew was always there, as much as she hated to admit it to herself. 

    Her blues eyes drank in his features, so many memories coming back. But then an idea suddenly pushed those away and she smirked at him. "I'm a horrible counselor. But...maybe you want to bring back some old times?" She questioned before moving towards her jacket thrown on the floor. Her fingers snaked down towards the pocket, wrapping around the pipe and bag of weed she hadn't finished from earlier. Her tongue craved the taste of it suddenly, making her glance up at him and wiggle it up between her fingers. "It'll help you sleep better," she offered, a smirk now on her features and her heart beating excitedly. Highs blocked out her thoughts for good amounts of time, and hell fucking yeah she liked getting high with Andrew. Those were some of the best times of her life, sitting by the lake, gazing at the stares, and smoking Mary Jane like they had no worried in the world. They did, but not when they were together. "What do you say?" she raised an eyebrow. In the back of her head she knew she'd sneak out to smoke it with or without him anyways, but didn't say this.

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald

        He always remembered smoking with Juliet. It was fun, carefree, and it made everything feel slightly distorted and open. He smiled, glancing down to her. He nodded, with a mischievous look to his dark eyes. He rose from his position on the bed and walked over to the closet, he opened it, pulling down a small ornate black box. He placed it on the bed, it sinking down into the mattress with the weight. He flipped it open and the top of bottles showed.

        He reached in, pulling out a champagne bottle, glancing over to her and smiling. "Remember when we'd drink this when we got high?" He said softly. He'd gotten good at either opening it with a bang, or making sure it didn't explode. He didn't feel like cleaning up liquor from his room, so he slowly opened the bottle and only a bit of a steam-like mist rose from the freshly opened bottle. He lifted it to his lips, taking a swig and instantly was filled with a feeling of euphoria. It glowed in him like liquid stars, sizzling on his tongue and flowing right up into his brain.

        He sat down next to her, taking another swig. "I've got a lot of other things too," He said with a smirk. "Schnapps, scotch, whiskey, brandy, wine, beer, moonshine." He added, holding out the bottle in exchange for the Mary Jane. He was kind of glad now she was here. He would've probably started slicing his skin if not for the sharing of weed and alcohol.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet snagged the bottle from him after she'd dumped a bushel of the weed into the pipe, then slipped it into his hand. "You can have the first hit," she offered kindly, swallowing down the champagne easily and with a small smile on her lips. The fact that Andrew still kept a stash of liquor with him made Juliet think of times at the lake again. The lake, the lake, the lake. So much had happened there in their past, so much that she thought of it too often. But at least some good at come out of those memories. Like smoking up the house until they giggled into sleep. Or drank the night away. Those memories were the good ones. 

    In order to push away the bad ones, Juliet took another long swig of the alcohol, loving the sweet taste it gave her. Her fingers grabbed the lighter from where she'd placed it on his bed, now sitting next to him and scourging her eyes through the box and bottles of Andrew's stash with a mischievous smile on her lips. Her long black nails settled on Andrew's thigh, out of habit, as she leaned towards him and offered him back his drink once again. 

    Her eyes flashed a bit. "We can always go outside to smoke, so you don't get caught," she laughed like it was the funniest thing, remembering many times where they had both been too lazy to leave his room and got caught high of their asses, shoved into the depths of his closet. It'd been fucking hilarious. Thinking this, her eyes went to the closet of his new house that she wasn't too familiar with, wondering if he'd ever used it beyond just Juliet. Probably; Andrew still got around and obviously so had Juliet. But maybe it was jealousy making her cheeks flare (or the alcohol) that made her have to look away from him. She needed to stop thinking.

    Especially about what Andrew had just told her. 

    Selfishly, her fingers grabbed the pipe from him so she could take a hit, inside or not. Her fingers knowingly flicked over the lighter, bringing the weird designed pipe to her lips and holding her finger over the hole on the side of it, flame pressed into it's mouth, and inhaling deeply. Her muscles seemed to relax as the drug began seeping through her body and mind, filling her lungs and burning the back of her throat. She loved that feeling, and was reluctant to exhale the smoke, but her eyes glittered mischievously as she blew it thickly and slowly towards Andrew's mouth which she was pretty close to. "Remember our make-out sessions?" she did. She remembered inhaling smoke and popping it back and forth between their tongues until they were so high they could see the stars. High sex was the best. They'd had a lot of that in the past. 

[Renny]

Andrew Fitzgerald

        To some, the feeling of getting high is like falling down after spinning in a chair too long. But to Andrew, he felt like, as the drug slipped into his system and core, he was on clouds. Like everything moving was not murky like seeing through a fog, but like seeing through clear water up into the dark velvet sky of the night. It's hard to stay focused when he got high, his thoughts drifting aimlessly as he weaved through everything. He seemed to think more of his family.

        His mother's face was always so vivid during his high. A pretty young thing, with a soft oblong face highlighted by low-lining cheek bones and some of the most full lips one could ever see. Her eyes, unlike Andrew's dark ones, were a vivid green. Framed by heavy dark lashes, they fanned out, framing her eyes like her chocolate hair framed her face. She always looked so lovely, natural. Her face appeared wavy to him, as if she was gazing through him in an ancient, gold-rimmed mirror.

        He didn't know what it meant, or why it came to him, but it did. He saw his sister sometimes too, and his father even less. His sister had been eight, full of freckles and shimmering red-brown hair in heavy waves. Her bright green eyes added to the typical look, and if she'd ever been given a chance to grow up, she would've been a beauty. His father looked like her; Sean Fitzgerald was hard-faced, stony and tight lipped. His hair was cut in a crew, the red-brown strands given to his daughter. Piercing dark eyes, ones his only son inherited stayed stony and dark. How his father ever loved anyone was a mystery.

        They always seemed to be murkier than his mother, and any blurred images of friends were even slighter. But whenever they seemed to float before his misty eyes, he seemed to be lost. Lingering on the bronzy shadows of the soul, before gold glimmer on the façade of the outside and the darkness roared like a ravenous storm on the inside. A shade of rose that seemed to tint the world in pleasant shimmers. For a while, he felt like he was drifting away from his chaotic mind, connecting with someone else.

        Part of him heard her question and he nodded, taking a drink from the bottle. With the effects of the high really settling in, the alcohol tasted like liquid stars, causing the inside to glow. He moved forward slightly, taking the pipe from her hands as she finished and just as she let out the smoke, he kissed her. His lips curled over hers, tasting the smoke as it coiled between them. His eyes slid closed for an instant, before he pulled back, the gray haze whispering sweet nothings as the flames burned on their tongues and mouth from the searing kiss.

[Maple ♥]

.: Juliet :.

    Juliet might've been surprised if not for this feeling being so natural to her; Andrew kissing her while the edges of her mind were dulled with the smoke she'd inhaled, the room heating up about ten degrees hotter, the air smelling warmly of pot and alcohol. She let her tongue graze over his slightly as she tasted the smoke also on his lips; both of theirs mingling together like one blazing fleshes meshing together. They were messed up, they were. Andrew had a girlfriend, Juliet had her boy toys and never committed. But when Juliet was high, her problems instantly went away. Of course they'd come back, they always did. But for now they were just summed up at the word issues and she couldn't think past that word, not remembering why they were like and definitely not thinking anything specific about them. Like how her Dad had yelled at her earlier, or how much she still loved Andrew Fitzgerald, or even how sad she was that she had left him and her heart had turned to stone. But all that was absent from her alighted thoughts and mind.  

    She was higher than the clouds at the synthetic feelings pulsing through her though.

    When he slipped away, Juliet's lower lip was bitten down roughly between her teeth and her harsh, sparkling blue eyes flashed with mischief. Her black nails scraped suddenly over Andrew's torso and under the clothing there, leaning into his shoulder as she held the pipe up for both of them to take more hits. One hit. She giggled slightly, teeth nipping over Andrew's jaw line lightly. Two hits. That hand traveled farther down teasingly on his body, the bites becoming rougher and more drawn out. Three hits. Her laugh bubbled through her white teeth, making her scratch her hand through Andrew's hair as she threw herself at him. But it didn't matter, it was just like old times. 

    God, she was definitely gone about then. She brought the pipe up for another hit but couldn't flick the lighter because everything felt sluggish and funny. Hella funny. Juliet felt herself sit back on the bed, laying flat next to the box and loosely letting her arms fall around her head and hair. The dark strands curled like the smoke did from her nostrils, her eyes lolling around the ceiling and another laugh tickling her chest. Not only was the weed having an affect on her, but so was the alcohol. Her words were just slightly slurred as her nails ran down Andrew's arm again. "Kiss me again," she told him, blinking her eyes closed and open again, the world a swirling mess but also perfectly disguising every not happy feeling she always had, replaced by the scent of the smoke and Andrew's cologne that seemed to sting her nose amazingly. 

[Renny]

meow~

[Maple ♥]

hi!