Vegeta And Bulma Doushinji English

CHAPTER 93 CHAPTER 92 CHAPTER 91

92
David - It was the war *

"Judith? Quickly, please. "
Eyes open wide in a curve of black mascara, shooting back that it straightens.
"Mh?"
Seno. Shot to shot in the neck of her blouse.
"Oh yes, of course ... Yes .. Advocate Good morning ... "
" I said quickly . "
" Quickly, yes ... "
It does not even know, David, what's going on behind him.
has already crossed the antechamber of the study, is already penetrating the corridor. The fingers are already closed on the buttons of his jacket while on the desk of Judith excited to come rustling paper and fabric, the slamming of drawers broken. The breath of one who has just stumbled strangled somewhere, and it was probably just a twisted ankle.
and so every day. Every time I enter into that office for years.
It would indeed be wondering, what on earth do his colleagues while he was absent. If Judith spend your time raving a night of passion with the actor of her favorite soap, or if they indulge in Morfeo Herrera dreaming all nature documentaries in his collection. David
in a hurry, though - always in a hurry, when it comes to the study. And if you miss it
generally have the time to get certain questions - that there is an urgent need for coffee in the morning, and not until Judith took stock of the situation can be served cordially forget that his longed-ration of caffeine - but today it is the will, fail.
has other thoughts on my mind well - the process in the first place, and the Jaguars out of order. Megan's words, that failure to pursue hate to mind in every moment of the day. That repeat in a continuous cycle, crystallized into a kind of curse the dark.
But above all - above all - are the events the other night that has deeply shaken the balance.
"Alloradunque, phoned Carter ..." Judith panting, limping back with his notes flying.
"Only the important things, be kind."
"Mh, yes. Weldon, then. Apparently not yet been able to contact you ... "
" I said what's important, dammit! "He exclaimed, opening the door of the room. "I speak Arabic, maybe?"
"Your daughter?" then she ventured, and he spun around. He raises his eyebrows - his jacket still stuck to the sleeves.
"My daughter what?"
"He called," comes the reply, surreal, before Judith correct quickly. "I mean, the babysitter for his daughter ... He called an hour ago ... "David feels
whiten.
"To warn that the bank seems to have even credited the bank, this month ..." the other end, before he jerks off his jacket and throw it badly on the couch. Before cigarette lighter and banging on the desk - a sudden and angry gesture.
Impatient.
"Fuck the bank, "he says, while she trembles, dropped his pile of scribbled sheets. As he bends to pick them up quickly - the neckline dangerously poised on the brink of a tiny button.
turned his back, David let go a laugh incredulously.
"Shit, you loony!" Hisses. "Tomorrow you open the fucking trial of the century and she comes to talk of trade union demands for a stupid babysitter! I am talking about Carter, and the paranoia of Weldon, and forces me to waste my precious time worrying about what will take the button of his shirt to raise the white flag, you realize? "Immediately
Judith blush, straightening his back shooting.
"Oh, hell!" Cut him short, and around the desk to drop the chair.
Turns cigarette - sudden movements. Smoke invades the lungs, bitter.
"Bring me the damn coffee, rather," he says, waving his hand with a movement annoyed.
It had never happened that a process innervosisse him so much - and there is strong external pressure is to be expected that deepens more, from now on, but this is not the real problem: David is accustomed to managing expectations and responsibilities, is perfectly able to keep control the press and has never had any particular difficulties nell'affrancarsi by cumbersome interference of her father.
This time it seems to be your personal balance, however, which is struggling to stabilize.
Why put that to talk about his grandmother's chickens to what was supposed to be his prey is not normal and not normal to have come to seek the opinion of a kid on issues that should not be questioned .
is not normal that showed weakness with Keith - that need to undress each mask suicidal and foolish hope that he could understand. Offer a feasible direction, an alternative. The
anger in the mouth the bitter taste of defeat worse, if only the mind is allowed to retrace the steps of that history: any teenager in the dressing room of the pool and the normal predatory instincts that leaves room for the illogical decision to save himself. Let it go, for no apparent reason.
Vivian, then, with its cryptic confessions: I imagined it was Keith, I know who you're talking about, I know of view. Already say that from that moment he had not realized their friendship would not be very honest, as it would be a lie to say that he had deliberately chosen to ignore the issue. Pretend that nothing, even in that circumstance. And then the absurd
inconclusiveness interactions - an eighteen year old obviously confused that seems to ask in every way, to put it to close. To break down the defense and the responsibility to raise uncomfortable choices, and that's all seduce him.
would have been too easy for him. But no.
Why was the desire to play, to test him. Test your reactions and dig deeper, to challenge him. Know.
have realized since then that a goal can not rely so much trouble, even if the kid is obviously in his first idea to get your hands on something that nobody has ever touched a stimulus is essential. Precisely for that. It took only a
just bit of strategy to bring already in bed that first night. And would it have been sufficient even less later, when he was approached: there is something wrong if, instead of a boy fuck you you put on the heels of his own volition you agree to talk as you would with your daughter . If you ask him courage and confidence when you know that you can not expect courage and confidence, because his problem is you. Because what I think you imagined, and yet you did so come to tell you in the face. Looking in your eyes.
And you know that there's more. That was not only Vivian - who almost never get to know you were worried il nome del corpo che prendevi né ti ha mai attraversato uno scrupolo di coscienza per chi nel frattempo lasciavi a casa, per chi hai sposato. Per chi hai creduto di amare, o per chi hai amato davvero.

Ha fatto male, e questo brucia.

Come brucia la rabbia di averlo sempre in testa, quel ragazzino: il contrasto schizofrenico fra l’impulso di fargli male e quello di proteggerlo, fra la stima per un avversario tanto pericoloso e la voglia di vincere. Fargli pagare quei suoi ideali limpidissimi e quella sua strada perfettamente tracciata - la superbia odiosa di tenersi lontano da chi le mani sporche le ha sempre avute.

Non sono il tipo.

Vorrebbe ripetergliela all’orecchio mentre lo sbatte con violenza, that phrase put in front of what surely will be his perfect little family with middle-class and sex snatch the hours of study, undermine his life to the point that whatever direction seems feasible. Any error.
"Your coffee, sir."
him fall in love, perhaps.
With a wave of his hand, David Judith motions to leave the cup on the table. Leave the room disappear.
But she stops at the door, uncertain. His fingers closed on the handle firmly, glancing down the hall.
"Herrera says he needs to talk to her," he ventures, clearing his voice. "He asks if he can give him ten minutes in the morning ..."
"No," was the dry response. One look, and Judith is quick to nod.
He buttoned his shirt almost under his chin, he notes. Felt like it would be fun to laugh, because his discomfort is a spectacle that is to say more clearly, it would be interesting to bet if you find the courage to do it or not. If he can not die first.
"I prayed that he would like to relate them to receive instructions for tomorrow," he finally decides to stutter, and suddenly shudders when he looks up to plant it firmly inside her. A hard look - sharp.
"Okay, today I say that has not time ... "ensures fast moving one step back. Pulling the door below, to reduce the opening to a thin crack.
"Then there would be his stepfather," he adds, almost in a whisper. "You just arrived, he wants to join him in his office as soon as possible."
The next moment has already gone down the hall - almost an escape. Strategic retreat.
And he can let themselves go against the chair back, threw back his head. Loosen the tie with an abrupt gesture, exasperated.
work so you can not - not with how his team with his stepfather and that is my breath neck. Not with that kid of shit in the brain in mind. With the odious sense of defeat to avenge.
must deal with the matter seriously - fuck Keith once and for all and then make them pay any interference in his life. Make him pay for the insult of any waste - still can not believe that he was able to send non-white one, but two nights. He can not forgive him for having dared to express opinions on his conduct and his moral - take it to bed not to close the question even if they were taking her virginity and doing so in a certain way. To leave forever engraved on the rematch.
The game is over - this is the decision who has completed when you finally decide to get up from his chair to head listlessly in the study of her father.
is already prepared to deal with yet another string of questions and recommendations - so for weeks now: the old man appears structurally incapable of not interfering in the case of Holmes and his reluctance to involve it has done nothing but encourage the obsession, tighten interference. Take a child his toy and it'll scream like hell - was to be expected.
David had not accounted to him for having to answer to someone for not having granted fed to reporters, though: the warnings are generally invited to hold at bay vanity and involvement - to downsize his ego. In fact he had planned to manage printing in order to get as much exposure as possible, in the wake of the media interest case.
He realizes only now that has come to choose inputs always secondary when it comes to access to the court. Or go to study, to enter the prison. The only time that the cameramen were able to get them dismissed with a terse: "Not now," and almost in secret and far exit of the last preliminary hearing.
"I simply preferred to wait until all the others had made their entrance on stage," says the old man now, and for a moment the smell of cigar closes the stomach in a spasm of nausea.
"The hero always comes last," he chuckles.
From behind the desk inlaid in-law watches him without flinching when it grunts and between the teeth, property: "All right then," he was caught by the sudden feeling that is going to impose something particularly odious. Something that will not be easy without exposing itself to avoid further suspicion and pressure, to more heavy interference.
"I spoke with Nancy Grace this morning," comes the announcement, and he raised his eyes suddenly. "Your presence is confirmed in transmission for tonight, you will be connected from their home in New York. "
" You're kidding, I hope. "
" You can contact them directly for details. "
" No. "The voice sounds dry
- severe - and perhaps the first time happens. The first time that a waste does not go to his father to cross roads, which is not processed in a diplomatic and effective.
Breathing deeply, David Greenhouse's jaw in a final attempt to control.
"I need to handle the matter in my own way, Larry," marks. "You had full confidence once."
And he thinks that has never been so in the end - that everything went smoothly only until the old man was able to exert its influence on him. Instruct and guide and supervise every move. He liked the idea of having a disciple, he never wanted anything different.
autonomy was not covered from the beginning, in his plan.
"no process will focus on an ever so strong media interest. Do you really think it is only for your professional qualities, which was entrusted to you? "Is indeed the answer, and any suggestion to avoid the obstacle collides with the knowledge that this time will not help - you have to swallow the medicine to hope to carve out space in the future. That played it wrong, this hand. And it is his fault.
to blame tiredness and questions that should not arise, because of having released the reins for a moment when he knew very well that they can not afford anything like that.
feels like to explain the perfect kid, what are the tradeoffs.
What it means to have a process that opens the next morning and spending the night on TV, face a slut willing to put a corner to secure his weekly dose of audience and having to win by force, that cause. Having to win because you put the face because half of America will say that it is only for your face that you're there. Because I
is saying your father, and you can not even afford to take a punch. You can not do anything.
David knows how to deal with the cameras - it is important to know when to smile and when it becomes critical gaze into the lens. He knows how to turn to his advantage a question, like getting out unscathed from the pitfalls and how to measure out the bastards more seriously with the irony. How to flaunt safety.
But nothing is automatic - the tension is entirely concentrated in the shoulders and pass on the monitor while the testimony of the victims of a novel he thinks he should know that too, the little boy: what it costs to keep a straight face, remove any shadow from the face of nervousness and remain faithful the script to the end. Until the window of the Jaguar never return to free wind speed and the roar of the engine does not dissolve in each other cry, until in the distance does not appear the sign of the usual red hotel.
There had been no prospect of meeting Vivian everything would have been even harder, probably. But it's Thursday - the day when there is no need to make an appointment. The day reserved for only the two of them agreed together.
twenty-three hours each week. In that hotel.
This time I'm eleven forty, though, and David is still dressed. Still standing by the window - the phone wedged between shoulder and mandible. Frowning expression in rigid, tight-lipped.
In the room, all around, a very unusual order.
"Hello?"
"It's more than half an hour I am ready, if we want to be precise," articulates the phone, casually lifting his elbow to throw at his watch. "What happened to you, has something happened?"
"David!" There
that the enthusiasm of an unexpected call, the voice of Vivian, and this is perhaps to be particularly suspect.
"I thought you were busy with work: you alright?"
dropped it on the edge of the bed, he sighs. Resigned.
"So you want me to believe that the reason why you're giving me the hole is deep respect that leads to my work?"
"I did not start giving the hole," replied the other, cautiously. "You're usually the hotel?"
"Vivian." Pause.
there to give him that respect still has a whiteness of his own, even in some things. Nothing to do with the theatricality of the mutinies of Samuel or the icy coldness of waste Megan. You can even get angry with him. Perhaps, indeed, could be considered the most insidious of all.
"Lift your pretty ass to wherever you have parked it and come here right away - you know exactly where, "she says into the receiver, giving himself back on the mattress. "Take a taxi, you refund the money when you arrive."
Following is the complete darkness.
hard to believe that way of being dropped, David, when the collapse of the mattress alert the senses to snatching a nearly comatose sleep: Vivian is there, sitting beside her. And he is watching from above - the term loosely uncertain of who does not know how to deal with an unusual situation. The hair on the eyes - messy. The head just tilted to one side, in that posture which is typical of its most spontaneous.
"Oh, shit!" He says, pulling on his elbows. "I must have fallen asleep, shit ..."
"Do not worry," comes the reply, while the boy leans over to kiss him gently on the cheek. "Heavy Day?" He adds.
But David has already frowned, sensing something is already heavily dystonia. Not that that night was devoid of surreal moments - in some cases it was asked what the reality really can overcome the most absurd fantasies. The most unexpected and grotesque. But Vivian
that kisses on the cheek would be alarming in any context, let alone if he just tried to forget their appointment. If he sits on the edge of the bed to put out the hair from her face as she did her grandmother when she was six. With the same maternal tenderness - chilling.
moving away almost abruptly, he stretches out his hand on the table to retrieve cigarettes and matches.
"I bet you have a headache," scans, looked at him. "The question really would be between that and the cycle, but I doubt you'll the excuse of the second."
"Headache?" Repeated the other, confused. "I have no headaches, David. Are you, what seems on the verge of collapse at moment. "
" I'm not breaking down. I do not ever collapse, "is the answer, annoyed.
There continues to be something that does not return, but the rationality refuses to believe that the problem can even remotely relate to sex: the last time it was perfect - no problems and absolutely no recrimination later.
David is convinced that it did not yet senile so as not to recognize a good fuck from a disaster - usually with Vivian, then, is also very attentive.
particularly incisive, and convincing.
"So?" He smiles, pulling up and blowing away the smoke. Spreading the arms of front of him - an offer evidence of its body. A call for an accomplice, agreed. Vivian
no signs of wanting to move, however, and continues to fix it with the same hesitation little nervous before. The same strange look - uncertain.
"I thought ..." begins in a low voice. He clears his throat, then - turn your head the other side. "Keith is my friend, David. Do not ... I can not go to bed with you and in the meantime ... "He combines
eyebrows, motionless.
"I know you are looking at Keith," said the boy, softly. "What you're left with a few days ago ... I can not try to convince him to jump and Meanwhile, continue to have sex with you. It's like betraying him, "he concludes, was not the last chapter of a harmony misspelled. Or the moment a tear-jerking soap opera Judith.
And David left his arms fall slowly down the sides - a slow motion almost. Let the smoke around the arm slides in a continuous ribbon, which is dwindling in the eyes two sharp cracks. Two scythes of very dark black on the face.
He can not believe it.
becomes every moment more unreal, that situation - like a dream-like plot where the individual instances, but acknowledge that the overall logic structure can not make any sense, no consistency.
Vivian is talking seriously and the thing funny is that he has not even been able to kiss him, her precious friend of the heart. The tragic thing is that the choice is being presented - all decided it was probably unknown to him the same afternoon in which Vivian was submitted to Keith.
now also understand why it is not immediately come to the hotel tonight - understands the hesitation and uncertainty of looks. The kiss on the cheek.
For a moment, madly, it's almost about to hurl an ashtray against the mirror. Kicked in the closet, sweep away the glasses from the table and set fire to everything - carpets and curtains and sheets. Breathe deeply
another mouthful of smoke instead. Shaking the dust, and turns his back to the boy.
"I believe that force you to attend the professor will be even more stoned than it is him," articulates finally loosened his tie.
But he knows that the game is lost now - and that's another thing to be served at Keith. Perhaps the only one that can never really forgive him, the most cowardly and most absurd.
dropping his chair, passing his hand quickly through his hair.
"Why?" Application Vivian, on the other side of the room. "Just because I think it might work between you and Keith?"
"Do not I care what you think, "is the answer, abrupt. More abrupt than David would have wanted, actually. "You have made a decision - do not agree with the reasons but I can not help but respect it."
"I had not reckoned, then," said another, with an ironic snort, "Keith was right, it it seems. "
" Keith is always right, I do not know? "
" Keith has virtually never reason, especially when it comes to him and the effect they have on others. I mean, is still convinced that you consider it the most stupid and pathetic person ever appeared on earth, " scandisce Vivian, asciutto. “E che non gli avresti dato mezzo secondo di considerazione se non fosse stato mio amico… Ma me l’aveva detto, che non l’avresti presa bene."

“Esatto. Ci vuole davvero un’intelligenza superiore alla media, per immaginare una cosa simile,” sibila lui, eppure non è che una rabbia frustrata. Una freccia avvelenata che continua a sbagliare bersaglio e che forse non vuole neanche centrarlo davvero, il nucleo della questione.

La verità è che si tratta di Vivian, e Vivian smuove sempre qualcosa molto in profondità: qualcosa che vorresti stracciare con disappunto, a volte. Qualcosa che invece finisci sempre per guardare dritto in faccia e che ti fa scuotere the head in front of any war. Any claim.
vanishes.
"Damn. Let's stop talking about Keith, please, "then sighs, reaching for the boy as if to invite him to come closer. Slips more comfortably on the seat of the chair, in the meantime. "I have not seen you two weeks."
"Yeah."
Smiling comes naturally, in response to his smile. What Vivian has flavor of melancholy and disappointed expectations - at least it is fragile because its is open. Cozy and soft. "I missed you," the mumbling, and closes his fingers firmly on his wrist.
It pulls near, sistemandoselo without stress on the knees.
"I know," he jokes, and threw back his head. The tilt to one side, wetting his lips. "Once someone has experienced is not easy to survive without me."
"Actually I was just about to call you yesterday."
"It always happens, my name is music." Giggling
Vivian shakes head, and David knows that fail so atrocious. Who will want to kiss and undress and touch - to hear him and want to breathe in her hair. To see him crouch between their legs.
Now the only important thing seems to be that he is smiling, though.
That has laid her cheek on his chest - he closed his eyes.
"No, that is ... I need to see you, I think," she whispers, and he's touching his throat with the back of the hand.
"You are going to make me a declaration of love?" He grinned.
"I went to Samuel, yesterday afternoon," says Vivian, however, his voice low. Almost choked against the fabric of his shirt - a little 'tired. "I do not ..." Pause. "You know him, the man for whom he was writing his book? Have you ever met? "
" Edward Logan? "
" No ... " The boy bites his lip, and hold the eyelids. "Bjorn," he says.
And David raises his head, surprised - by bending the neck to spear Vivian incredulous look. Suspicious, too, and just a little 'disappointed.
"Damn, I knew it!" Puffing, pushing the boy's shoulders with both hands. "It 's been a professor at the dumb, it was obvious!"
"I was not senile," Vivian protest, dragging his feet. He runs his hand through his hair, absently, glancing toward the bed - to the window. Taking a deep breath, move a few steps toward the other side of the room.
"Maybe I'm just tired," he adds, shaking his head. "I should go to sleep too, I think ..."
"Vivian." One breath, deep. "What's up, mh?" He asks.
But there are no answers at the moment - only the stillness and the boy lost his eye, his shoulders tense. David
must be no violence to achieve it and tie his arms around her waist - kissed her neck and say something in a low voice, no matter that makes sense. No matter that they are not lying - cheating or stories or notes of a song. The
spoke too hard tonight - too much distance, and shadow Keith continuously between them. Other people, too.
were not alone even a single minute in that room.
"He's my brother," however, comes the revelation, sudden, and suddenly the nerves are stretched on their own. He straightens his back suddenly, leaning forward.
"Your brother?" Exclaimed, confused. "Who would be your brother?"
Yet the answer is there - already clinging to the shoulders as the most vile of enemies. There would be no need for Vivian spoke, whispering softly, "Björn."
David stands up, his eyes are sharp as blades while the other adds, almost to explain: "... The Viking Sam's this? I found out yesterday ... It was a bit 'unsettling, I think. "
" The Viking Sam? "
" I found out last night. "
And here at last, the final insult: whole months spent waiting that the boy decided to reveal something of themselves and then be caught up in hatred Samuel thread that is interwoven with a whole life - fate and Northern Ireland and every other kind of bullshit.
Their tug of war lost in one move and the mind that runs frantic pieces of dialogue ever really listened to, words now lost in the labyrinths distraction.
The novel, and the hero come to life. The story - fiction. And reality.
Where the one and really ended where it started the other? He can not be answered
David - has never been able to do so.
"Samuel told you?" Asks instinctively, but Vivian shakes her head slowly.
"No," he says. "I mean, she told me her name, the coincidences were too many and I asked him if he knew ..." He shrugs - the glances. "The time was right. I was the one to tell him he's my brother. "
" You have a brother, then? "
A nod of confirmation, nervous.
"And the professor knew? What did you say, Vivian, who told you? "
" Sam knew nothing about it, I told you when I know ... "Taking a deep breath, the boy takes a step toward him. "I did not cheat but ... I feel a bit 'as if I had done all this time."
"Do not talk nonsense, it's just a coincidence," says David, and thinks back to the parks for dogs ponds and ducks. What is disgustingly small that city - to Samuel that you're probably gloating in the certainty that all his outlandish theories have finally been confirmed. And damn the novel, the chapter that his friend has read that winter afternoon.
The main character come to life.
quickly diverting the mind, a hand is pressed hard on the eyes.
"Okay," she says, trying to joke. "You'd be a Viking bonsai, then."
down Vivian's eyes.
"Your sense of humor was definitely the thing I missed most," he says, but she is smiling. He stopped in front of him again, and is shaking his head with amusement.
"I think I did too much effect Bj because now he is in New York. For months. And as he spoke I did not expect at all that Sam had a history so recent - it took me by surprise. "
" But you should know that even the most recent were written eons ago in the ancient book of destiny, "he chuckles , stretching their hands on the zip of his jersey.
raises an eyebrow, then - down the zipper. "The space and time ... What do you want?"
"David." Arching an eyebrow, in turn, Vivian stares into his eyes. "What are you doing?"
And if you question what he is doing - the mind continues to lose in the fragments of conversations with Samuel and the body seems to have found it out of habit, the way of contact with Vivian. The instinctive need to give protection and strength - make him smile.
Keith had already forgotten the problem, but also has the presence of mind to answer, calmly: "I bare. Now we sleep here tonight and I'm not going to share a bed with a boy who is top cat impel by the professor. "
not close eye, of course, but for the first time in days will not be the adrenaline to keep him awake or just opened the game with Keith - will not be the words of Megan and even the continuous pressure of his stepfather.
Vivian breathe regularly - her hair caught in the lips and it seems clear asleep in the sleep of the children while he is watching from above. Property.
Yet one wonders if he really had the childhood - a childhood without monsters and no secrets, no nightmares of light. It's no wonder really know what his brother Samuel, the boundary between fiction and reality and where it is specifically intended to carry the famous road to the North.
He never believed that one day he would put certain questions, David.
It would not have imagined that the challenge of a process could weigh so much - that would count hours with the mad hope that time would stop there: in that hotel room, in the abandonment of peaceful sleep Vivian.
One breath, and another. Another.
Until the dawn light will filter into the room and it's time to look at their faces one by one, all the ghosts. Expose and flush them out from their secret - arm yourself. And then, without any uncertainty, prepare for war.

* And the war came
Et nous voilà ce soir.
(Jacques Brel - Mon enfance)

ROSA DEI VENTI is licensed under a CCA NC-ND 2.5 Italy . Permissions beyond the scope of this license May be available at: http://rosaventi.altervista.org/copyrigth.html .

Airsoft Law In British Columbia

91
Raven and Dylan - Breath on Glass

The thought hits him in the exact moment that your fist reaches the leather of the bag: in the near future, nothing be easy. A period is closed, perhaps only by accident, and it is impossible now to back off and get things back to status quo ante. Not even wanting to.
Raven could not go back to look at Jude in the same way she can transform anger into something else, now - will not be enough to forget last night and blurry look of Dylan and the bullshit said and heard. The sudden urge to leave.
For a moment, the awareness is so chilling that even the force of the blow seems to fade - the time it was taking shape and he is biased forward, knuckles pressed against the bag. The muscles bulging with something that can not be said to be simple tension physics, or may be exhausted only in anger or fear. Digging deeper.
Fists later, perhaps as a reaction, hit with more violence than the first.
is strange, because all the emotions experienced over the years, the anger is perhaps the only one that really it has not yet been able to control anything.
mute this is usually good at, to stave off: sa hijack the provocations and leave them slipping on the skin as if it weighed nothing, as if it were air.
But when it takes root - when fitted - it becomes impossible to conceal or convert it into something less destructive to do is channel it towards a very dangerous direction. Hold away from the world and people, to prevent the world and people will be overwhelmed.
Maybe that's why yesterday, after spending an entire day not to think about what happened with Jude, Raven has succumbed to temptation and presented himself at the door of Liam.
Panting, takes a step back now.
He wipes his forehead with his wrist, turning her head sideways as if to loosen the muscles of the neck, and take advantage of the pause to reflect on all that anger to alter its behavior. On the way he feels his body and the effect it causes in others, even, perhaps. A different influence.
Liam was right to suggest his gym that morning, Raven has no idea what direction could have taken his day, had he not found a way to vent excess energy. Perhaps he could even fight with his friend.
is not yet completely ruled out that this happens in reality - so far Liam has been discreet, but sooner or later will want to know what the problem is with Jude and because it is his responsibility to handle it. For now, though, there is only the empty gym, around him, no danger.
And all that regards the last two days - Dylan, Jude, and an unsustainable trend to use the attack as a form of defense - may be relegated to the margins of consciousness as the world shrinks to the club built from his body and anger. The thrust of the arm snaps forward and the impact of the fist. The speed with which blood is pumped to the muscles to the brain.
When finally decides to quit and has lost track of time spent there under: reality shows too sharp shapes and pulses under the skin in order not yet subdued, but fatigue is counterbalanced by and he thinks it may also be able re-emerge, perhaps. Go into the kitchen and find something to drink, without having to worry about.
Passing in front of the hall, he discovered that Liam has not lost the habit of turning his house into a meeting point: at least eight people sitting around the table. Leaning back in his
Chair, Helene is yawning - just raises an eyebrow when it crosses his eyes. He lifts his head in a distant nod of greeting, without slowing down the pace.
The difference between the hospitality of Jude is that Liam is all in the way they live their home: Jude is a party in an integral manner, and this tends to communicate to those who only pass through these rooms, giving the 'impression of knowing the real owner. Liam lives in his house as a guest himself, though - that the rest of the world there is camping inside does not seem to concern him most.
is a bit 'the same difference between their way of being rich - among the different way of being spoiled. Jude makes him almost without realizing it, as a child could do it. Liam it is all too aware, and it seems boring as hell.
's probably why it is so little bear, two of them - reflects Raven, taking a bottle from the refrigerator and unscrewing the cap. It may be that this is also one of the reasons why by Liam was an obvious choice: Jude do not ever dare to seek him here, if you would find it. As long as you only call - without even leaving messages on the machine, the asshole - he can feel comfortable.
"Is that better?"
turning his head toward the door, crosses the gaze of his friend.
"marginally" responding.
Liam nods, passing in turn to take something from the fridge.
"Helene was not expecting to find here," informs him, casually. "I have to say that you came last night. I believe is drawing its conclusions."
Raven has no idea whether the conclusions of Helene cover the bed where he spent the night or if you would rather not be asked why he decided to devote himself to boxing, nor particularly interested to find out. They can think what they want, she and Liam - for him, Jude, whatever - and however the situation would not change one iota. He has not done so far.
"Not even I expected to find her here," he says, crossing his arms across his chest. Questions Work? "
"The adaptation of the novel by Weldon. You had talked about?"
"Maybe. Something." Raven bows his head, watching him carefully. "The god sick, right?"
Liam has not changed much, since the first time they met: his body, at that time, had the delicate texture of a skinny teenager - facial features less defined, less edgy - but in the eyes was already very distant light. Singular.
Raven was fifteen years old at the time - the friend eighteen - and remembers being fascinated as often happened with the older kids: without precise intentions, nor friendship nor sex, but simply nailed by the knowledge that he breathed in the face of someone else. With different mental processes, different feelings.
Visions.
Perhaps now would not even close if the circumstances had led to frequent them more often - if the first guy Raven was not a friend of Liam, if that house had not made the scene of many of his best memories.
But the charm was there, and has never really faded at all. Although the years went by and the distances have become more pressing - even if the story is over with Matt and that Matt is gone and it arrived Jude and sometimes spend even months before the mind back on some memories.
Although perhaps, in time, their worlds have become even more different.
"I have not yet figured out whether to accept to work with Helene that project was the most foolish decision or the best of my entire life," Liam is saying now, stuck a cigarette between his lips. "I've never done anything like this and it's all ..." A vague gesture with his right hand. "Confused. We did not even know who write for the main parties. But at least the script is ready now. And I did not believe that Weldon would have never given the final okay."
Suddenly, Raven has to virtually suppress a smile.
"He is demanding?"
"You have no idea." A snort. "Helene is almost worse then him."
"Nothing new, for that matter."
squared his shoulders, Liam nods. He leans toward the ashtray resting on the shelf, shaking his cigarette with a gesture dry. Accurate. Slowly, glanced at him, tilting her head to one side.
"You've got three missed calls on the phone. You know, right?"
And the temporary relief of being able to concentrate on other things fade, while the back muscles to stiffen. Nerves are stretched, the jaw is contracted.
"He's calling since yesterday afternoon," he says coldly. "Every three or four hours."
"Are you going to answer, or think to ignore it until it stopped?"
"Do not say bullshit," he snorts. "I'll call in a while. 'I just need to clarify the ideas."
Another affirmative nod, as if the statement was perfectly logical. As had already happened, earlier that Raven let go two days without seeing Jude - without hearing. Ignoring his calls and venting negative energy on the tools of a gym.
"consider staying here again tonight?" so the question is almost irrelevant. He shrugs.
"I think. I'm not in the mood to relate with the world."
"Too much too antisocial to come to stay and let you show off?" Liam replies, with just amused inflection in his voice. He chuckles, then, in front of his eyebrow arched.
"Let's say that your presence has not gone unnoticed. I can only thank you that physical activity has melted enough to focus more on the muscles on the look murderess, or would begin to spread the rumor that do stay in serial killer in disarray. "
"That's why I've given away free with the gym, Liam?" he asks, ironically, following the corridor. "Fear that you scare the guests?"
In fact, he thinks that only his friend would be able to satisfy its demand for dragging loneliness in the midst of a dozen complete strangers: anyone else would feel the deep discord between the two, but with Liam the opposites are often coincides dangerously.
Sitting among his colleagues, with their eyes and ears on the echo of their names, Raven feels more relaxed than it was in the center of the gym, when Jude, in the form of absence, was still the focus of every thought. It's comforting somehow let the body find its own space - caught between gossip that do not concern him, not having to worry too much about following the thread of discourse.
Feel free to not having to treat anyone with any respect. Not to have even come to terms with himself.
young boy was convinced that those were the situations critical to the training: not so much time spent talking to someone privately, leaving the mind free to go. But the periods spent in the midst of people, when they were the boundaries of the body to be tested. When the eyes of someone found a clear and accurate reflection of itself and its the same stretch my arm to accept a cigarette redefined the shape of the muscles.
The amplitude of each gesture.
could test the effect of each eye, in those moments. And while the body learns to move - to automatically tune the right frequencies, to become something else - the words around to form intertwined discourses and penetrated the consciousness in the form of new ideas. New messages.
was stimulating even to discuss, in those moments. Choose one position and take it to extremes.
One of the things he loved most of his brothers, then, was the fact that people always bring more than willing to lend to those games.
is strange, perhaps, ten years after that state of indeterminacy still having the same effect on his nerves relaxing.
Guests Liam actually have not paid too much attention - there were looks and polite, sure, but the conversation is back on track soon usual and he was found to retrieve a script from the center of the table in order to better follow what they were saying.
Helene, at his side, he smoked in silence and at times showed some crucial step - he watched her slender wrist, the elegance of the cigarette between the index and middle line and could almost be convinced that it was still another, his life. That which vibrated under the skin was the energy of eighteen, and tension, and that everything else was to be built.
"I can not believe that you managed to turn the sick god in a play," said at one point. "Only you could have, seriously."
Even without looking up from the script, he can see Helene smile.
"It's just another form of translation ..."
"Liam said that there is going crazy."
"says Liam star-crazy for ten years. "
shrugged, he did not bother to contradict her. Are alone after all - the others are scattered throughout the rest of the house when Liam announced that it was time to take a break and he was going to take care of lunch - and it's always strange being in the company of Helene without extraneous interference. Underwear and almost relaxing.
For this reason, perhaps, when she changes position in his chair and speaks in a whisper his name, he answers without even thinking about it.
"What?"
"Did he really early by surprise, what happened with Jude?"
For a moment, the surprise was so great that it is almost impossible to understand what he's talking about. Raven raised his head suddenly, his eyes fixed on her - and it is only when she looks away that the meaning of your question is clarified.
Suddenly, the rage in the last hour had remained in the background once again explode in your ears, like a shot fired at close range.
"What the fuck it means, 'took you by surprise', Helene?" He says, throwing the script on the table. "I should have foreseen it?"
"I I expected, actually," she murmurs, without looking.
"Perfect! I'm glad that at least one expected it, you know - makes things much more understandable. I was probably just me, not I noticed that recently I went from being his best friend to the role of lover, semi-abusive "
The woman down her eyes." Come on, Raven. Even in his moment Jude worst could get to say this ... "
" He's never said that I do not give a shit, "marks him, staring at his face - the curve of the lips bitter family." That these ten years have been nothing but a pull-and-spring constant, and that I never wanted to take any commitments. And you better stay away from Dylan because only complicate life. How I complicated her, after all, "he says, scornfully.
you feel dizzy, however. The desire to punch something - to hurt himself, even before they do it to someone else - new beats in my veins, but even stronger, deeper and true, there is the edge of the void. Remembering the first time that had traveled, who was forced to look inside.
Mark was missing and that was the reason - that the source of everything. The vacuum
nothing but what was left of his way of living in the world.
There was anger even then. Frustrated and defeated, feverish, and if you try to recall could not admit that he had vented their beds by Liam. The only time in his life he had left to the task of making bad sex - the only time I had not asked for pleasure. But it is a distant thought, that, that format is not left to decipher: Liam has never spoken more and Helene knows nothing and he's right Jude, when he allegedly disrespected at all, in those days. Raven knows he has fought only for the world arrendervisi, at the wrong time, and that there will never be a way to apologize really. There was one problem, the other night.
It was the betrayal. The blow from behind.
But Jude had eyes too hot, and his words vibrated hot, and had never been that way before. There never was a sense of insecurity suspended quell'addio that echoed down the stairs with his steps. There was the defeat of his eyes averted and the unbearable feeling that was telling the complete truth, not just for a moment.
Usually fights with Jude not make any are - are minor explosions that can occur in the most absurd, but they end up unexpectedly as they start. Raven has never had trouble distinguishing truth from falsehood, in his words, even while attacking. He never had to dodge the issues frustrated its security by allowing the damping.
But now, every time the phone vibrates in his pocket, must fight the urge to turn it off. The need for irrational and stupid to forget it somewhere and then run away.
"I had talked to Magda?" Application, pressing firmly back against the backrest of the chair.
Helene, at his side, raises an eyebrow and he is compelled to stretch his arm towards the script left on the table back by hand. Browse.
"That's why you're not surprised? You already know something? "
" Raven, "she murmured in disbelief. "There is no conspiracy in place to keep you ignorant. Magda knows nothing. I do not really know what happened - I guess this is Dylan, though. "
He nods, nervous.
"Here. And knowing Jude, you were expecting it to be really ready to make such a step without first planting on some casino? "A sigh. "Come on, as we might like that kid ..."
"It was not the boy, his problem," interrupted the Raven, acid. "As long as it was Dylan, everything seemed perfect - it was when I touched that I gave to my head."
probably would have done better to bite his tongue - Helene and Helen, and loves her like his sister, but not has never learned to dress up their insecurities in front of anyone who was not Mark.
And it is strange in reality, because the moment was not one to creargli problems - when Jude was pulled back and had begun her stage mother, the irritation was all for what he was doing to Dylan. The fragility of that perfect time for the nonsense with which the traveler was destroying the sole purpose to get a clear conscience.
Only days later, when the concentration aimed at excluding from the everyday thinking of Jude was loose long enough to not discharge any memories of the night's events, came the need to relive those last moments in slow motion. And it was disconcerting to realize that the brain had registered with so much the precise sequence of events - which was not only the warmth of the skin under his lips Dylan, a lasting impression, or the pressure of her back against his chest. But the breaking of the breath of Jude, when he leaned to whisper something in his ear. The crumble of his eyes for a moment that had looked as if he had forgotten his existence. As if, almost cost him hard to accept.
It was all so quick and amazing that Raven can not know with certainty what happened. It would surely have ignored the sense of unease that the thought of being cut off from the perception of Jude's would mean, if it were not for the fight soon after. If Jude had not had that look. Not
know what to think, really. What to believe.
But he never had to force them to give confidence to someone - usually enough for him to rely on instinct - and is now being disruptive to touch the edge of the phone with his fingers, trying to convince you to make a call.
Trying to find within themselves the desire to hear his companion, and the courage to choose the right words to address it. Even knowing that, whatever is is, a part of him would be lying.
It's probably just that, the biggest problem. Why all those years he never said anything but the truth, Jude. Has never asked to do so. While at this time, however, does not think he even know how to tidy himself. Closed
study of Liam, his back pressed against the door, take a deep breath before deciding to retrieve the phone from his pocket and press the callback.
He has no idea what's going to say.
The other night, when he emerged from the apartment of his friend, he was not sure he could endure the presence of anyone - it was not anger, then, but only the pain of a wound reopened. Jude had made the speech - the weight of that betrayal - a back seat, enveloped by smoke. And it was also passed in the background Dylan, not the night, the frustration of having to stop so abruptly. The subsequent irritation.
Then, he had come to sleep. And waking up in the morning. And the irritation had turned into anger - anger had become a need to escape. He was finished by Liam.
Now, would not know even explain what the dominant emotion. If the need for revenge or to protect themselves. To protect others. Injury.
When Jude responds, however - the second ring - her breathing is labored and for a moment to hear his voice seems sufficient. To breathe more lightly.
soften the bitterness.
"You were stuck waiting on the phone, or you risked to split the knee to take the call? "is to ask, amused tone.
"Vaffaculo," is the answer - resentful. "It's two fucking days I'll call you. I thought you were gone. "
" Quiet, this time you healthy before, "he replies, almost without thinking. Why is it always like this, with Jude - do not need filters.
Soon thereafter, however, the true meaning of what he just said it clear and my heart skipped a beat. The irony kneads the tongue with a bitter substance, dense, and he is quick to change the subject. He clears his throat.
"No, they're just Liam."
"Raven."
can almost imagine it, Jude: eyes closed and head thrown back soon. Face modeled on the lines nervous, uncertain - the mask of repentance. Raven does not know even how many times they did a similar dance, but it had never happened to having to reject his apology is not because they would be useless. But it is not safe to believe him.
"I'm sorry for what I said. I should not have, no ... "
" It was in your own right, "she interrupted, quickly. "Forget it, ok? Water under the bridge. "
" Sure. That's why you spent the last two days to ignore. "
Irritated, he moves a step towards the desk.
"Well, so sorry if I did not want to be around. Then, trust me. It is better for you that you have been away. "
" Are you mad? "
" I was all morning to punch the punching bag of Liam. If I come to you could pay the price of your pictures. I preferred to avoid. "
There is something surreal in that situation. Realizing that the brain is perfectly able to carry on an argument with any Jude, using only structures that have proved successful, while the instinct does nothing but send signals to each device nervous, warning against the danger. The heart beats
fast, in the temples and throat, and Raven does not think that he'll find so close to lying. Without saying anything that is not true anyway.
Jude is still apologizing, meanwhile, and he is nodding his head without even listening to him.
would like to say that there is no need, which is all set and can be seen that night and forget everything that has happened - do not know that his friend is waiting for more.
But nerves are not yet relaxed: his fingers drumming nervously on the desk - the eyes slide between the sheets that Liam has piled up there, documents and articles from newspapers and buried an agenda - and it is as if his body was become an unfamiliar animal. A text to read between the lines - someone to approach cautiously. A plan
dissociated.
"Dylan how are you?" Question, suddenly, his back to the room to close the window.
ear, Jude's laugh sounds nervous.
"Dee? I was hoping I could tell you ... "
" I do not see the other night. "
" Ah. You are no longer passed from him, or ...? "
" Jude, what the hell, "he blurts out Raven, nervously. "I'm Liam not to frighten anyone, and want to go to Dylan who has problems with me in better days?"
The silence with which Jude welcomes that statement should not do bad, compared to what they called the other night, but somehow seems to further widen the gap that separates them. Make deeper the gap - most searing the wound.
Counting slowly to ten, Raven tries to give him time to find an answer - then, when it becomes clear that this does not happen, holds his breath for a moment.
Lets go a long sigh.
"You have tried to call him?"
"Not responding ..." Jude whispered, very quietly.
"Big surprise," he hisses, ironic. "And what issues, exactly? A written invitation? "
"I do not know what ..."
"Look, I do not care what the fuck were your problems the other night, or what you're going through your head right now, Jude. If you want to avoid dealing with things, make yourself comfortable. If you want to take away from the foot complications is well. But Dylan does not deserve to pay the price of our crap. "
" I never wanted to ... "" Maybe not, but that's what's going on, "Raven interrupts him with a firmer tone than he thought. "Because we have pulled us in the midst of this story - you've pulled you in half. And if you do not have the balls to carry the thing and you prefer to burst everything immediately, you at least tell him. That I have no intention of doing it for you, of course. "
It's strange to talk this way - hard to remember the last time that happened. When they were kids, probably - when Jude said he insisted on straight and he grits his teeth against the urge to crush each of the masks that basted. There was no
us, then - nothing to deal with, but only to build roads on their own. Directions to choose from.
paths ahead.
gives vertigo to realize that it is not so for years. Dylan himself, in his perception, has never been a private affair: the beginning was her beauty and beauty always attracts Jude, whatever the form.
After she arrived tenderness, Jude had already entered the circle and had already changed the balance to establish itself as a third pole: since the night when Raven came into his house and found them both asleep on the couch there more was a real division between them.
When he began to believe he could really do with Dylan, necessarily began to see Dylan with Jude.
only now realizes that perhaps it was a logical step as well, that. That perhaps the other two have not felt with equal ease - that Jude may have treated of taxation. A force parallel to carry out their lives when he wanted a sharp turn. A few
diversion.
"Do you really think I should go and look?" Is now asking his friend, and even voice with which poses the question seems different. More distant, perhaps, or maybe just more tired.
"Yes," replied anyway, because whatever the problem is not backing down now. And why can not he go by Dylan - to find himself in the sensitivity needed to handle it - but only the confused idea of what should be tightening the stomach. "Seriously, Jude. The other evening was terrible. He thinks I did something wrong, or that you did not want, or some other crap that is not in his brain the better for everyone. "
" Okay. "In the background, the sound of a sigh. "I will go look for it this afternoon." Pause. "And you?"
"I what?"
"You think you go back, or ..."
The laugh that escapes him, then, is surprisingly bitter.
"I think it is not appropriate for now, no. Better to do some other tests with the punching-ball from Liam, before. "Shaking his head, pulling her hair back. "Seriously, Jude. Think about Dylan now. We ... " Hesitation. "We fix it later. Leave me a few days. "
words sound hollow to his own ear - not even a promise, but only postpone the problem to the future - and it is clear that even Jude really believes.
For a moment, almost believed that Raven could protest - to try to convince him to get away, to go along with Dylan. He would never accept, but it would be best, perhaps. Arguing seriously. Now.
Offer to the body any reason to continue to feel so far away, and so empty. "Ok," replies his friend instead, quietly. Only adding, more quietly: "Sorry."
And when he whispers: "Me too", the closing statement, he thinks that this is perhaps the only truth I've said throughout the conversation - a truth not corrupted by anger, by the sudden fear of not knowing how to find more.
Whatever direction it is taking their story - whatever that even Jude by him, whatever it is willing to give - this time will still be a sign in their path. With its load of regret, with all the frustration. For as much as the body, its limits of skin and nerves, claiming a diversion that can be consumed in anger the pain, the deeper reality, at that time, we read in heart blood.
In the sense of emptiness that melts in your mouth, in the temples. And in the absence
flavor.
Such is bitter, sometimes it does not allow any name.






knock at the door.
Dylan lifts his head from the pillow, he realizes that it is still day. He realizes that there is wind outside the window. Back to close the eyes.
knock at the door.
is the responsibility of awakening what weighs more, in certain circumstances: having to open the eyelids even when there is absolutely nothing I'd like to see, having to rip the embrace of blankets just because the outside world has decided so. Just because others are, not to sleep.
had imagined a city building, when a few hours before it was lying on the bed: her eyes were burning, my mind was exhausted. Was lost. And he had repeated the story of Sleeping Beauty, trying to remember the voice of his mother. Struggling to hear, fingers intertwined with his brother while the world slept. While they slept the countries and people, and everything was always identical to itself. One year after another.
Knock on the door. Two
now more convinced than the first. The more uncertain the second - almost imperceptible.
Maybe the other side of the mirror is over there again, Dylan, where around him everything seems suspended in the sleep out of that room and someone moves instead. Someone knocks.
The error must have been pulling down the sheets, find out the reflections.
He did the first week - could not say exactly when or why: just remember that it was the afternoon that he had slept on the couch of Jude that night. Who had dined at his house, smoked his cigarettes. Listened to his records.
When he returned to the board, later, Ash was there.
The sheet slipped and his hand trembled just - the reflection is called slowly through half-closed eyelids. And there was no fear or discomfort - only the inexpressible relief to find him again. Collision, finally.
now holds his gaze fixed on the floor, however, and one step after another taste of the cold tiles under my bare feet. As he approaches the door, looking for balance, and with no real interest asks what time it is. Maybe five, hazards. O
five in the next day.
sniffles, closing his fist on the knob of the handle.
It is strange, because to ask those who can not look the least interested. It is also the Vivian leave to enter without putting up any resistance, let me talk for hours would give the owner of the pension or full years rent in advance, if they pretended. A
Jude does not know what could give, though. And he can not even imagine why you're there, nestled in the crack of the door as if it were the subject of a nuanced picture of her in black and white. As if he had a sense, the fact that their eyes are crossed again in that corridor. On the threshold of that room.
"Er. Hello.
Her hair is a little 'shaggy, blonde hair a shade colder. Effect of light bulbs that are used for retirement, perhaps, or maybe it's the fault of the wet bits. Maybe it's raining outside - think Dylan.
"I come in?"
wincing when he beats up the lashes. Raven
also used similar words, that first night, and the world there seemed to be the same dull empty.
He had looked down the same way when he remembered to wear only the white T-shirt - no pants and no shoes. Even the boxers, under the edge of the cotton.
In an instant, suddenly, your heart jumps in my throat as if it were to explode.
"Just a moment," he says, hastening to close the door. Pushing back against the wood, immediately after, and bowing his head to check that the shirt actually comes to mid-thigh. That we have not rolled on the sides, in the meantime.
All right.
But the eyes are already running from one corner of the room, are already searching for stamping with the pair of jeans away the night before. Or pants reminiscent of Peruvians have abandoned somewhere after you wash them.
would like to find within himself the strength to at least open the closet, Dylan. At least try.
stands still, however, because the obstacle of the mirror closes each path. Because he knows already that the glass lips Ash would not have the same fold that Jude must have seen on her while she kissed him last night. As I drove back, and stood up. And everything ended.
"You have a mouth that there is more indecent," someone once told him, in a nightclub in New York. Dylan was not drunk that night, but he was crushed between the wall and the body of a guy that not only liked for the pleasure of hearing his excitement grow. To see him shudder.
"I have never said that you're a whore?" He repeated the boy, looking at his lips. Watch as these wet with his tongue, and then he ran his hand along her sex. And he smiled. Closing his eyes
plan, Dylan takes a deep breath.
"Okay," he said then, opening the door again.
This time the effect is stronger - if the first presence of Jude was barely tried as you do with a dream to waking, or clouded with memories of a distant event, but now makes her eyes crinkle the skin and the knowledge that would be enough reach out to touch it, inevitably accelerates the breath.
In fact, the feelings of the previous night are still vivid, etched in the senses like a perfume or flavor. Something incredibly physical. The features of Jude, then, seem woven of the same restless nervousness, a little 'a bit impatient and' undecided.
Adorable.
He had already noted on other occasions, Dylan, when they may become febrile his eyes in certain circumstances. Or they appear sensual lips - the look that turns away and then come back to your body. Almost could not avoid it.
out a little from the threshold, is preparing to make room for him.
It should tell you something - he thinks. Being able to greet him.
But is he who spoke first - even before a glimpse inside the room. Before deciding to move a step forward, or take breath.
"Dee. I'm sorry, "he says.
And it seems really sad - maybe even a little 'uncomfortable. He holds his hands in his pockets, teeth planted in the lower lip. The hard shoulders - straight.
"I did not get an impromptu, but the phone was off and I thought it was better ..." She pauses, turning to him. "How are you?" demand, in a subdued tone. It
tenderness. It
tenderness without a logical reason, no real reason. Without in any way affect the tenderness of eroticism, even - without that sudden urge to hug him divest himself of all the sexual valence.
Dylan looks at him - he can not help but watch it - and almost non-violence should be kneeling at his feet. Bow down before him, slowly, and reach out to settle the hem of the pants. Flush the palm on the thigh, then - press on the groin.
"You untied the shoe," whispered the other hand, and can not perdonarselo.
He can not hear again the whisper in the ears wet with that guy in the disco: you're a whore. It is exactly like that, so he fled from New York.
That struck his brother - a slap in the face, the first - and ruined it also Rosenfield. Jude should have understood, perhaps.
And he wanted to avoid having to meet again - it felt quite safe in that room. Now it's alienating, it skidded to tie your shoes in the disorder of his room. Remember the decor of her living room, compare it with that of the board resigned. And a sudden understanding of that place as he had always harbored a secret nightmare - the side of himself that he never told anyone. Nobody in the world.
"I wanted to apologize," says Jude, and he holds his breath instinctively.
"To the other night," explains, want to raise. "It was not my intention to make a scene like that - I do not know what came over me. Did you go to half and you do not deserve. Not at all. "
" Are you better now? "
In response, the other mentions a kind of an ironic smile.
never been good at this sort of thing - never been the least convincing when he tries to hide nervousness.
"I came back to me, yes," he says, glancing uncertainly. "If that's what you mean."
But exactly what he meant he did not at all clear, Dylan has not yet acquired any rational theory on his flight last night - can count only on gut feeling of his lips and on comparison with those of Ash. Clear perception of their estrangement from the circle that Jude and Raven have drawn together a long time ago, when he was too small or too far away. At the right place, perhaps.
still can not believe that he was so naive as to believe they can really be a part of them. They are so different that dizzying - now set with a future and a past to remember together. With dynamics too complex, too articulate for a kid who still is based on the tales of childhood to the life process.
The first day was exciting, moving in the apartment of Jude. Everywhere there were
Tracks experiences so much of his adult - whatever seemed to promise access to age always expected and never reached. And the door could open at any moment on entry of Raven in a manner so natural wonder all the time - to make him believe it might even be possible to divide the daily life easier with someone who makes your heart beat so loud. With someone moving inside a body like his, with his instinctive harmony.
"And Raven?" Question, because I still shudder when I think the seriousness of his face as he drove to her home. Paradoxically, he does not remember having ever desired as the moment when his mind was only focused on Jude. He does not remember ever having had such a great desire to undress. Touch it.
"is worried about you. It says that we should clarify," says Jude, Dylan and for a moment to be almost laughable. "I mean. He says I ought to explain."
"Well, you tell him that no one owes me any explanation," scans, but could not hide the bitterness. The disappointment - inevitable. "Not in command, at least. And not because he said. "
But regret that answer a moment later pronounced it, because deep down knows that is not the problem. Because I know too well, Jude, for really think that he is there only to please Raven.
"I'm not doing this because he told me," replies the other fact, and it is all too evident that she is not lying. Only Dylan can not explain why all of a sudden now that is of particular importance so great - Jude did not even see it anymore, probably.
Raven either.
It makes no sense.
"I learned by myself, that night I handled things in the worst way," adding he feels it, while uniting the eyebrows in an expression serious. Seria. "And I'm sure I can help you made a 'wrong impression, like I did not want to go forward. Or that I do not know ... "She sees him shrug, uncertain." You have every reason to be pissed. Thee But I would at least explain, please ... "
The scam is in the eye - no real surprise: Dylan has always suspected that it would be impossible not to soften, if one day he had quarreled with him.
" I'm not pissed off, " sighs, moving away from the wall to meet him.
Jude sat on the edge of the bed and he bends down in front, looking up from below.
"But maybe I need to understand, yes," he adds. "hear from you ..."
He wonders why it is doing, in fact, since the reasons feels he already knows everything. Since there is not much in the end, capturing them in chains thoroughly logical and rational. Tie them to the voice of someone else so that they seem more terrible. More painful.
"First of all, if I was not pulled back to a question ... sex," Jude began, and almost seems absurd to be bowed before him to hear him analyze the matter as if that would somehow solve something. Forge a bond, or defeat the problem.
"I mean," he says. "It was not the first time that Raven and I were having sex with another man, together, and I would be lying if I said I never thought that would happen with you. Or that I never hoped for. More or less the first time I saw you. "
More or less the first time, Dylan repeated mentally. Mechanically.
Jude now back at him, blushing.
" I mean, I'm not saying that my goal was to , or you're trying to seduce or Just .... You are you, Raven and Raven is ... "Hesitation. "I'm not offending you?"
"Quiet." Swallowing, Dylan gets wet lips.
"I know I am Raven, do not worry," he murmurs.
And it's true - that's the only thing that has always head was perfectly clear: He never thought you could take the Instead of any of them, he never even wanted.
Jude shakes his head high, though - eyes wide, staring back with the decision.
"No, that was not my speech," exclaimed, bewildered. "What I mean is that ..." Exhale. "I do not think you can imagine anything more erotic than you and Raven together, ok? This is part of the problem, I suppose. It never happened with anyone else before, "he adds.
And in that moment without any logic, in a totally insane, Dylan feels dissolve blood relief so great that it needs to lower his head to not show your eyes transparencies. Tears deductions - caught between the lashes.
"Really?" Demand plan.
The guilt comes on the heels, as an inevitable consequence of every smile noted.
"Without a doubt. ... This" Jude stops, surprised. "I mean, Dee ... but did not really think that could be the problem? The fact that you do not want?"
"I am ..." Silence. "I'm weird," he murmured, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor.
"Strange?" He
colored toenails, you notice only now. Light blue.
This too is part of his guilt - the vanity too often suggested that patients want. Who poisoned with each sex relationship, even one with his brother. Even the most sacred, the most innocent.
Blushing, let slip the hair on the face: is about to tell him of the mirrors, in-Jude is going to tell him of Ash, what forced him to move away from New York and words that the man had whispered that night disco. To what feels fake dirt.
It just keep quiet, though.
It then backs up, moves casually tangled blankets from the opposite corner of the bed and sits there - hands locked between his knees. The heart continues to beat strong, as after a stroke. As if it were to get hurt, or disintegrate.
Wipe the stain with blood.
"Tell me what happened," he murmurs.
Before answering, the other takes a deep breath.
"I think ... Actually, I do not even know, with certainty," he admits, sheepishly. "I mean. I did not think I would be fired as well. ... But I am afraid this situation. It scared me before, ever since you and I we kissed. Or maybe since you slept with me the first night, why not Only ... it was only sex, Dee. Not for me and Raven, at least. And there was the first ever to do something with someone we care so much, and ... "He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I had great control over my reaction the other night. The brain was quite gone, and when I realized what I was doing really made me panic. I think. "
" Panic? "He repeated, confused.
" Yes, that is. More than anything, I think I understand more or less vaguely that I had something like half a second to pull back until you let go of everything, and it was a sort of short circuit. I do not know exactly what I thought at that moment - I think Raven has suggested to move in the room and I focused on the situation and the next moment I was standing. "
" Oh. "
" Eh. "
Silence.
"I see," said Dylan finally, glancing fast.
did not understand almost anything, really, except that it was one step from being brought into the bed of Jude. That was about to make love with Raven.
with them. Paradoxically, the
is making now - for some reason had not thought of that night and then thought there was even later. Not with crystal clarity that, at least - as you might think of a real thing. One thing is imminent.
blinked, turning back towards Jude. She stares at him in the eyes, bewildered, not even seeing him now for the first time.
"Oh," he repeats. Blush, swallowing.
Imagine that the scene may seem surreal, from the outside: would be unable even to say whether more lost its expression or that of Jude while looking into his eyes as if neither of them knew that the world is in any way. As if they were studying to hope to find another, a glimmer of awareness. Something that will give direction to follow.
In reality is slowly beginning to connect the elements, Dylan is following in reverse the words heard so far and to fix the joints. To realize.
"However," Jude finally ventures, clearing his voice. "I did not want to react so hysterically - it would have been no question, I think. Decently. And I'm sorry that it ended the evening on a similar note, Dylan. I wish you could feel good, and instead have complicated everything and ... "He shrugs." I do not know what you might have thought, at that time. "
" Were you afraid? "He asks, deeply touched. Deeply moved, reaching out to touch her cheek. Softly.
Jude chuckles, turning his face into the caress.
"I still have fear," he admits. "But you do not seem to hate me, and this is already a step ahead of expectations the worst ... "
" No. I was afraid too, "he whispered, moving his thumb across his jaw, piano. He smiles slightly.
" Raven will kill us, I bet ... " But back to stretch
Jude - immediately turns away, pulling a little 'back.
And the heart stops suddenly, as if the body had received before the mind that the blow will be harder this time. As if instinct had stumbled by chance in the real issue - what can not be dissolved. What was once just an inkling, an idea inaccurate.
"In reality we have to discuss that evening," said the boy, a bit 'hard. "After Raven has followed you home."
At his side, Dylan is not responding.
"... He was irritated," says Jude, without looking. "And I do not know, I had not fully recovered, I think. I said things I should not have. Things that I had never really told why, was not up to me and talk about it ... "He shrugged." Have not seen him since. This morning we heard by phone and asked me about you, but ... We're not exactly on good terms at the time. "
ask if they would not be serious, so he remains silent.
This property is waiting for the breath you decide to melt, which filled the air returns to the lungs. For this reason and because they can not even imagine them apart, Jude and Raven. Why can not help but think back to the voltage that is breathed into the car when it was taken back at home, and can not avoid feeling responsible.
"I'm sorry," whispers only.
feel the tears swell my eyes and feel secure Ash from behind the mirror.
feels the desperate desire to embrace, to fall asleep next to him.
disappear.
"I have to give him time to digest, I guess ..." murmured the other, but he shakes his head.
"Jude, this is not ..." He hesitates for a moment. "It does not work," ends, and immediately stood up.
across the room, reaching the window. Deviates the tent, slowly, focusing on the alternation of cars on the street. White headlights and red lights.
Traffic lights.
"I do not want to create problems, not I want to argue. "take a breath, turning back toward him. "I do not even want something that someone needs to metabolize because of me - I do not want."
"But this is not the problem. Surely you're the one Raven who must metabolize, Dylan."
"I'm what you need to metabolize, in fact, "he says, and thinks the relief of a few moments before. A different as the colors seem to appear less like the dark room. Less humid. And think about Raven, then.
strong effect that had made him the seriousness of his eyes last night. The concentration with which he kept his eyes on the road - the concern. She had never seen him like this.
not believe that he will never forget it, that his sudden weakness. Nor will never forgive himself for having been witness - that he found there at that time.
imposing an audience.
Another problem.
"My'll keep the photos from those who do not let anyone see?" Jude asks, closing her eyes.
The other did not respond, but the tension is felt in the air. The uncertainty and fear.
When he murmurs: "Dylan ..." the voice is low. A little 'flawed.
"I made only see Raven," is the answer, still. "But he does not count in this."
"Yes. He does not count, "repeated Dylan.
He often thought many times about how it is possible that in the final moments everything that you want to say never seem enough. How is it that nothing seems able to express even a fraction of what you have inside, and because the end is always the silence to take place. The silence is too rough or phrases, sentences, not yours. Almost a self-inflicted punishment.
"I think it's best that you leave now."
He wished the words sound so sterile nor so detached. False.
When Jude nods, though, it does so with the resignation of someone who has already received more than he expected.
"I think I, too," he says, pulling up, and spent a long time before deciding to stop to look around for a fix in his eyes. "Thank you for listening to me, Dylan. It was important for me."
He nods.
suddenly remembers the white T-shirt, bare skin. The abysmal sleep a little earlier and the desperate need of blankets around the body - the story that was told to fall asleep. The door opened, and torpor. The shoe untied.
will remain for hours staring at the edge of the mattress on which he was sitting - you know already. He knows he will not cry but cold, who wants to sleep. That sleep will not come.
Jude and Raven had become such an integral part of his life that almost can not conceive of an alternative - not sure which shade of blonde could not exist apart from the wheat-colored hair Jude.
seems a problem recently, but do not close your throat like that if it was not important. And it would force him to lift his eyes still on his face, with the urgent need to memorize lines and shades. With that sense of loss lacerating, defiant. Furious, almost. The
seems impossible.
"I'd rather not see you, Jude," he says - his right hand trembling just on the door handle is already open. The feeling of not having more skin - more strength. The other
lowers his head, wetting his lips.
"I thought so."
The heart beats strong, so strong that Dylan was even afraid that he will notice. What do you hear the silence, and decides to ask more questions. Trying to calm him down.
would all be more difficult.
Even more than it is now turn our backs on it, follow her footsteps as she walked away down the corridor of the tunnel and feel the knot that tightens the throat. That narrows more with every step, to stretch the muscles in an unexpected shot.
"Jude. Hold on. "
He had not gone that far, in the end, but out of breath when Dylan stops in front.
"Wait," he says again, and he knows that it is only worse. That it should not. It
repeats that it is only a quick kiss - lips that are printed on the lips and a stampede into the room, soon after. The door closes.
only that the thrust seems to run out in the very moment when their mouths are separated and he remains motionless, his eyes firmly sunk into her. I clenched fists on his jacket - tense muscles. In silence.
holds his breath.
It happens in an instant - the sudden notice that the hem of the shirt has to be increased almost to the hips and the perception of Jude's hands on her hips, pressing muffled by the cloth.
The Kiss, urgent. The sinking of his tongue in his mouth and his head turning, breath is missing.
Heat.
affluisse is as if the blood to the brain in a wave only - Dylan feels the palms sliding on the buttocks and the breath of the other break in the mouth when she meets the bare skin.
madly imagine the appearance of the boarders in the hallway - the snapshot that would occur in their eyes. Imagine his bare back, the shirt caught in the arms of Jude and open hands on the buttocks. Imagine Raven.
has very dark eyes, indecipherable, while with his shoulder against the wall is watching them closely. It has the cylinder that smokes a joint between the index and middle fingers, dropped her jeans on her hips. He's smiling. Trying
the air, he threw back his head backwards.
and stop thinking after - everything is confused in the wake of the language of the wet track on the neck and in the tangle of chills, nell'incalzare of his body. Steps backward, slamming the door.
The decisions are still there, all neatly lined up in rows like an army: goodbyes needed and nostalgia and frost. Yet Dylan leaves lay on the bed, let him kiss her again. Even deeper.
It does not hurt, surprisingly.
It is not even sex, is unlike anything already experienced: the sex has always been a war and now that there is no abandonment, however. He was always game.
And now neither is playing, not Jude. Not him, and arches his back and opens her legs to make room for his body. And bar the eyes when you hear wind from his mouth.
let out a groan.
He realizes at that moment that his fists were firmly attached to the headboard. That for the first time any action is delegated to another, that the eyes are closing. You do not need to be vigilant.
And there is no need even to hide the embarrassment behind the usual bold gestures do not have to feign or induce. Neither hide.
Perhaps, before abandoning the lips of Jude, Dylan did not even know what was really pleased. He had no idea that anyone could handle it for him more effectively than it has ever been able to do and he did not believe it would come to feel her legs tremble in his head of a boy.
He always smile when it happens to others. He saw them and knew he was crazy about her - he knew he had him.
now hard to recognize himself in the movements that his body seems to articulate itself, however. It has no idea that smile is, what he feels while tightening the lips to kiss Jude salt. Does not resemble either a triumph or usual irony - does not look like anything.
Yet he does not care.
does not care because he goes back to push the mouth on the stomach and then on his belly - just slowly caresses it, making it shudder. And there is only the desperate need to find her lips - return to feeling and stretch wrap, and sink.
Sink.
your hands on the wooden headboard only orgasm when the body shakes from the bone and while down on his stomach dragging blankets and sheets sees the darkness filled with countless points of light - feel the breath break in a cough . The head turn.
For a moment, as if he did not know where to find it. Neither those who really are.
only happens later, it all comes back again quiet.
Much later.
eyelashes hatch - the world seems strangely out the same as always. There are scores and shoes, on the floor - the usual dim light of a moment before. CDs and clothes and his guitar case in one corner.
Behind him, against his back, the breath of Jude is suffused with sound. Warm.
"Please. Tell me that you are not already repented. "
" Hm? "
Stretching languidly muscles, he turns his head on the mattress until it meets the chest of the other - to press his cheek against the skin. I hear giggling and the rib cage vibrate against the ear - a very strange feeling. Sweet.
"Tired?"
is almost certain that it was not that the previous question, but it's really too tired to try to remember. Or focus on something different from his arm that surrounds the back, which draws him closer. From his lips to touch the temple.
"Hm," he says.
Then, he closes his eyes.
Everything happened too fast - too many conflicting emotions in so little time: Pain and pleasure, surrender. And voltage drop.
If all this makes sense, he can not see it. No longer able to distinguish between solitude and completeness, could not say whether it is more powerful yearning for something lost or never experienced the sensation of surprise. It can not find the boundaries of her body, while Jude embraces it. While pressing his lips on her temple, lazy, and every gesture carries the imprint Raven's as if it had been shaped by the interaction with him long before. Very deep. If that does not Wellness
was so intoxicating - so extensive and complete to cancel any rational thought, to stifle - one might wonder how much he weighed the resemblance to Ash, in dystonic overlap almost as diverse in size. It can be perceived as Jude in the hand, the presence of his brother, and if there has been a refusal to turn him into a passion. The fear of a desire - something stronger.
The head is still spinning, and it's like a seesaw confusing sizes. As he drank too much, feeling more. Feeling fade.
And maybe it's fatigue in creep into the mirror's reflection or perhaps Dylan himself to raise the white flag. Maybe the size will return to overlap, when the spell is broken. Maybe not.
But there is silence in the room, and the breath of Jude slips through his hair like a caress that seems reserved for him alone. For once - an illusion. Believe.
Sleep comes as a breath on the glass, later, blurring the mirrors in pictures muffled condensation. White shadows without boundaries - in stories faded texture that no one remembers anymore. That do not tell anything. And make no noise.

ROSA DEI VENTI is licensed under a CCA NC-ND 2.5 Italy . Permissions beyond the scope of this license May be available at: http://rosaventi.altervista.org/copyrigth.html .

Artiste Regal Engagement Rings

rdv_capitoli @ 2000-11-07T15: 52:00 CHAPTER

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Pokemon Friendship Bracelet Pattern

Ops, it happened again.

thought you were rid of us but I can assure you that this will not happen for a long (very much) time unless we stop to eat, sleep and have a social life (however little it may be) to devote 24 / 7 to writing, since we are not going to do it because it's nice to eat and in general also have a life it is, we say that there take some 'time before this thing is closed permanently.

That said, you read Eine Kugel Reicht , you're angry with Schmetterlingseffekt .... and now it's up to Und So Weiter ! read and let us know, we are very curious.
contrast to previous series, this time we begin with a spin-off (written by lisachanoando ) that acts as a link between the second and third series and is called " The day I died " - but do not worry, do not talk about Bushido = P

To read click on the banner or the title of the spinoff.