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Post by Adrian Hollows on Jun 5, 2009 7:07:56 GMT -5
((Just something odd that demanded to be written while Alaric refuses to talk to me so I can give you that reply to Leandra.))
Carefully, Rosa stretched out her muscles, feeling the slow burn trail through her as her body protested the constant stretch of muscles that lay dormant throughout the day. She had been doing this for just a few months over ten years but she kept pushing herself when her muscles ceased to protest and so the warm burn of active muscles never faded. At the other end of the large room, Layla’s fingers flew over the keys of the piano in a melody written by herself. The simple, sweet harmony brought the faintest curve of a smile to Rosa’s mouth. She had been the only one permitted to hear this particular tune and, in a way, it had become the symbol of the similarity that had drawn them together. “The requiem of the two foolish children,” Rosa called over to her friend with a quiet laugh, confident in the knowledge that the room was both locked and soundproof. As was her way, Layla offered a silently mocking smirk, acknowledging Rosa’s comment without returning one of her own. The difference between them, Rosa knew, was that she had been trapped in a childish adoration of Mordred, her beloved Bee Prince, which had faded long before Merry married Rister, the Graas heir. Layla, on the other hand, had grown into an adult appreciation of everything Jared that would not truly fade even when he married someone else. “Lita got her happy ending,” Rosa reminded Layla sharply, disliking the unhappy gleam to those shadowed blue eyes, “and her story was nearly the same as yours. She loved him for years and resigned herself to only having him as her closest friend before Rister, Cleo and Kris stepped in.” When Layla raised her head after a moment of hesitation, there was a dark smile that made Rosa instinctively shiver. She was, after all, still a naive child in many ways though she had long ago learnt that life would not unfold like her favourite fairytales. “The difference between Lita and me,” Layla informed Rosa bitterly, “is that Gaenor loves Lita just as deeply as she loves him. I am just the cousin of Damon’s wife; the little kid that trailed around after them like a lost little puppy, pleaded guitar lessons out of Jared and was too weak to stand up to bullies. Not to mention that I don’t have Rister, Kris or Cleo’s support. Nor do I wish it. He deserves better.”
Without giving Rosa a chance to furiously stomp her foot and demand that Layla rediscover her common sense because surely there was no one better for Jared than her, the blonde lowered her eyes, pulled her self-composure around her like a protective cloak and began to play once more. Helplessly, Rosa stared at her for a short while before sighing and smoothing her hands over the soft blue fabric of her leotard. Layla would hear no more on the subject right now and Rosa knew better than to push. It was highly indiscreet anyway; Merry had repeatedly reminded both of them that Rister would personally fetch them in a few hours because Ashlyn wanted to scold Layla for not being careful with the recently healed broken bones in her hand and he had interrupted a dance session many times before without either of them noticing. Privately, Rosa was slightly surprised that Layla had allowed her to broach the topic at all. Layla generally found solace in her own company or let Jared coax the problem from her. It was unusual for her to share anything with Rosa. Theirs was a friendship of mostly silent understanding and companionship, much like the majority of Layla’s life.
Her body had started to automatically move to the music without Rosa consciously concentrating on where to place her feet or hands next. Layla’s compositions were the only music Rosa would dance to during her practices simply because there was a depth of feeling that affected Rosa like no other music could. Jared and Ashlyn were more experienced and smooth in their playing – that was a doubtless certainty – but Ashlyn, to an extent, had freed her heart of the love for music because she no longer needed it as she once had. In Rosa’s untainted view of the world, Layla had poured her soul into learning music because it would make Ashlyn proud. Then, of course, there had been the connection with Jared after he had taught Layla how to play the guitar so Rosa silently suspected that music and Jared were both grouped together in Layla’s mind. That, of course, was mere speculation and Rosa had no one to share her thoughts with. There were people who would be content to listen to her – neither Merry nor Rister had ever turned her away when Rosa wanted to talk – but she was hesitant to share Layla’s secrets with them. It wasn’t her place to do so and she wasn’t quite sure if Layla would ever forgive her for the humiliation of their family knowing about her private feelings.
Rosa was the only child to inherit their mother’s innate flowing grace. Pip, if he wanted to sneak up on someone, could walk almost silently but Kali, Reid and Tyler could barely walk without tripping over something. Merry had learnt the grace of a fighter through martial arts and archery but Rosa had been the only one to truly inherit it. In daily life that grace barely showed, but when she was dancing, nothing became more obvious. Of all six children, Rosa was truly the daughter of the woman who had once been Charisse Cartier. She didn’t have the openly fighting spirit of her father, brash and unsubtle. Instead, she had the grace, the unconsciously sly smile and the calculating gleam of those with ambition. Due to her long-lasting belief in the fairytales Merry had told her as a child, Rosa knew how to be untruthful, how to lie and manipulate people but was unable to use any of that knowledge unless she felt it truly necessary. Pip had learned how to be a Slytherin but Rosa had been born a Cartier. She was still the sweet little girl who had adored Mordred and tried so hard to befriend the little Italian boy, Carlos, when they had both been in the castle with Rister because she could sense his sadness even if she couldn’t speak to him but she also had the ambition and determination that came from a pureblood legacy. Instead of the ambition for more power or money or whatever else it was that purebloods wanted, Rosa’s ambition was for happiness. She could be happy as a prima ballerina on the stage in front of hundreds of people or she could be happy giving up her career for a man who loved her. Rosa wasn’t complicated. Her friends and family, however, often were and she wished for their happiness more than her own because it would be harder to achieve.
The music ended a few seconds after Rosa finished her final pose. Breathing only slightly heavier than usual, Rosa dropped down from her toes then promptly extended her leg in front of her, resting it on the barre as she untied the long ribbons of the leather pointe shoe, then swapped legs and wiggled her toes contentedly once free of the restrictive shoes. “Graceful as ever,” Rister drawled, smirking as Rosa actually jumped in her surprise at his presence. Mildly, she glared at Rister for trying to shock her and at Layla for not warning her even though the blonde had evidently noticed Rister before he had spoken up. “I guess it’s time for me to report to Ashlyn then,” Layla spoke quietly, gathering her bag and jacket with silent efficiency. Knowing how it felt to be at the receiving end of protective disapproval, Rosa hugged Layla sympathetically then stepped back to stand next to Rister as Layla slid out of the door and past Jared as if she didn’t even notice him. But Rosa knew Layla and how Layla felt so she saw the quick intake of breath and the tension in the hand holding the jacket, and promptly pulled Jared into the conversation between her and Rister before he could greet Layla. Her first loyalty was to her family, yes, but family was both Jared and Layla. For as long as Layla’s feelings were the only ones that Rosa was aware of, that loyalty would naturally fall to Layla first and that meant aiding her in her quiet escape.
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Post by Jared Graas R4 on Jun 6, 2009 15:51:52 GMT -5
Jared was seated on a windowsill in one of the towers of the Graas castle. The tower was mainly decorative as it wasn’t large enough to house any rooms. But there was a winding staircase leading up to the very top of it. He had always liked the view from here and had spent countless hours sitting on the floor of this bare little room writing and polishing his songs. Today he had also retreated to the room and was sitting on a wide windowsill. One of his legs curled under him, the other merely bent at the knee and resting on the still, he was gazing out the window thinking nothing at all. Well, it took a bit of an effort to keep himself from thinking of anything and keeping the music somewhere in the back of his head from coming front, but he kept his mind empty. His first movement for an hour or so even came only once the trapdoor of the room was shoved over. Turning his head, Jared merely observed as mom climbed into the room. With a faint hint of a smile, he acknowledged silently that mom would be the only one to set out to climb staircases and a ladder in stiletto heels and a skirt.
Mom let the door slam closed behind her and sauntered over to the sill Jared was sitting on. Obligingly Jared shifted his legs to make space for mom to sit next to him. Mom’s eyes swept the room, taking in Jared’s guitar lying in its soft padded holder on the floor, before she turned to look at Jared. “You haven’t played in months. And when asked you tell some fairy tale instead of singing,” she stated. Jared turned his head towards her but didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything he could say to really explain. But mom must have seen something, because she smiled at him. “You don’t play for her,” she half-asked, half-stated and Jared felt the block from his words disappearing. “I can’t... I just… I couldn’t. Music meant everything to her. It doesn’t seem fair that I could still play, when she can’t. It doesn’t mean my life to me to the extent it does to her. I’d be happy working as a simple vet too.” But mom just smiled. A peculiar all-knowing smile, as if saying that not too long ago music had been all of Jared’s life as well. Instead mom just held out a hand and Jared leaned forward, resting his forehead on her shoulder, a move reminiscent of a small child seeking shelter from the world in the arms of his mother so that he could simply dream.
((This was just a random something I had from some earlier time. Figured I simply slash it here as well, even though it’s not really related.)) -------------------------
Getting the girl drunk had been almost too easy. Layla didn’t generally drink much and Kris had picked a bit stronger wine than was usually served next to dinner. She had been hesitant at first over approaching Cleo and him on the eastern balcony but Kris prided himself over the fact that he wasn’t someone to whom it was easy to say no. And both of them could be charming so Layla had perhaps even noticed as she downed three full glasses of sweet red wine next to the idle conversation. Yes, getting her drunk had been easy. Handling the drunken girl now was somewhat trickier. Kris swallowed a sigh as she clung to her forearms again, her sudden movement propelling her forward so that she landed nose-first on his chest. She mumbled something sleepily into his chest and after a moment of deciphering the sound, Kris decided that she had merely stated he smelled good. Deciding that Layla wasn’t quite stable enough to make much more progress on her own two feet, Kris bent and slipped an arm under her knees, effectively scooping her up in his arms. Hurrying through the hallways with smooth strides, Kris deposited Layla back on her feet only once they had reached the door to Jared’s room. His knuckles skimming the hard wooden door, he pushed the door open without waiting for a reply. Jared stood to meet them at the door with surprise evident so Kris merely schooled her face into an impassionate mask and giving a gentle shove to Layla, propelled her forward, startling Jared into jumping forward to catch her before she would have fallen. “She’s drunk,” he stated with surprise, carefully helping Layla find her swaying balance again and Kris merely huffed, snapping the door closed before him.
“You’re drunk,” Jared repeated in a gentler tone to Layla, who peered up at him and giggled. “Yoush shmell good. Likesh shower,” she murmured, throwing her arms around her waist and pressing her nose flat against his shoulder to inhale deeply. “Lookshie, mesh noshe ish flat,” she giggled again, but without retreating her nose. “Yes, I had a shower a little bit ago. Do you want some water? I can get you that and then help you to your room,” Jared offered quietly, wrapping his arms around Layla. He would need to help her stay upright, he firmly told himself. Not that he would take advantage of any drunken girl. Well, perhaps he’d fish for something to blackmail her own sisters, if it was Leandra or Morgana drunk in his arms. Though dad probably wouldn’t have brought them to him. Bringing Layla to him seemed somewhat more logical. They had always gotten along, Rosa wasn’t really as prepared to deal with drunkness and Ashlyn would have kept Damon on his feet all night over it. “… you,” the determination in Layla’s voice startled Jared out of his thoughts as he realised he had missed something. “Certainly,” Jared responded with an arched eye-brow in response to Layla’s gaze and was rewarded with a beaming smile. Well, her request had probably been harmless enough and she probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning anyway, Jared comforted himself a moment before Layla suddenly rose to her tiptoes and pushed her lips against his.
It was a clumsy and awkward kiss and it shocked Jared so much that fro a moment he could simply stand still. With a frown Layla pulled back a little bit. “Yoush should kissh me back,” she complained loudly, before bringing her head towards him again, except the abruptness of her movement made their heads collide rather sharply. “Ish going to be shick,” Layla complained, clapping a hand to her lips and for the moment pushing the swirling cortex of thoughts in his head to the background, Jared hurried to help her into the bathroom. She crouched patiently behind her as she miserably retched into the toilet, holding back her long blonde hair and offering her a damp cloth to wipe her face with once she was finished. “Yoush didnst kissh me,” Layla murmured, falling to sit on the cold floor of the bathroom for mere minutes, before her eyes closed and Jared was holding a girl in deep sleep. She’d need some proper sleep so Jared slowly climbed to his feet with Layla still held in her arms and carried her into his bed. Pulling off her shoes, he deposited her gently in the bed and pulled the covers up around her. And with the silence of the room broken only by her deep breathing, Jared slowly fell to sit on the bed, staring at her face and trying to make sense of his whirling thoughts. Trying to make sense of her thoughts. And so he slipped off into sleep on top of the covers of his bed himself as well, still wearing the pair of jeans he had had on when dad and Layla had arrived.
He woke to a miserable sound and an unfamiliar weight settled on his chest. Blinking blearily, Jared’s eyes focused on Layla’s sleep flushed face. There were still things he needed to think of and learn. But as he watched Layla slowly regaining her consciousness, he discovered that some things just felt right. “Morning, princess,” he murmured as softly as he could but even that made Layla groan and burrow deeply under the blanket. Jared chuckled at waited patiently for her to wake on her own; silently admonishing himself for not getting a potion for her to relieve the hangover she was bound to have. It took a good ten minutes, before her eyes slowly peeked over the edge of the blanket to him. Jared smiled faintly at the half-glazed look of hangover and mortification in those eyes. So she did remember. “Dad brought you here once you got drunk,” he informed her calmly, shifting himself a bit so that his head wouldn’t be at an awkward angle as he studied Layla, “You smelled my shoulder and kissed me.” Jared paused as Layla disappeared under the blanket again, but continued despite that. “Then you managed to bang our heads together and got sick and then you told me that I hadn’t kissed you properly. But I don’t take advantage of drunk girls.” Jared paused and inhaled slowly. There was a lot he would need to know and a lot that would be hard still. But he reached out his hand and gently tugged the blanket away from Layla’s face again. “Will you ask me again?” he asked her with a light smile. She could answer. But she could also turn it into a joke if she so wished. For a few long moments they simply studied each other though. “And if I did?” she finally asked in the same joking tone. Jared smiled wryly as he pulled himself to sit before turning to lean over and his arms braced on either side of her head pressed a gentle kiss on her lips, taking care to make sure that the only things touching were their lips. Raising his head he observed Layla wordlessly. This time they stared at each other for even longer, before one of Layla’s hands came to rest on Jared’s cheek. This time she met him half-way for the kiss.
“Well, that’s a sight you don’t’ see every day,” the drawl from the carelessly opened door paused the kiss and Jared rested his forehead against Layla’s with a small sigh. “Suppose mom knew what we’d find?” Rister mused on loudly, his tone light but as Jared tilted his head somewhat, he could see a mild conflict on his brother’s face. On all of their faces. They were all protective of Layla and wouldn’t hesitate to pound any guy who attempted to take advantage of her. But at the same time, he was their brother. “She could do worse,” Gabriel pointed out suddenly and with a grin and a slight nod that Rister joined in on after a moment. Damon took a moment longer, but he smiled slowly at Jared as well: “She could do a whole lot worse. I’ll still deliver him bound and gagged to Ashlyn as otherwise she’d have my head.” True, Ashlyn’s reaction would be a mystery Jared concluded. Even the easy reactions of his brothers were a bit of a surprise really. “I feel it necessary to point out that they’re your family too,” Jared told Layla before straightening and standing to regard his brothers coolly. “Dad told us to fetch you. We’re going riding,” Rister informed him with a wide and a bit too satisfied smirk on his face as Gabriel stepped into the room and tossed one of Jared’s own shirts at him. “Am I going to get a talk from big brothers?” Jared questioned with some amusement, even as he went to pull the shirt on. “Can I come?” Pip questioned excitedly, glancing between Rister and Jared. “Yes, you can come kid,” Rister grumbled, fondly messing up Pip’s hair. Despite some original clashes, Pip had grown to look up at Rister with al most awe. For Pip Rister seemed to be a revered older brother that wasn’t related so that he allowed him more than his real brothers did. Rister could probably tell Pip to bury a corpse and he would do it without question Jared decided, sticking his tongue out at Pip and stepping out of the room as Rosalind approached them with a goblet of something carried in her hands and looking somewhat surprised at the crowd: “Kris sent me.” “Hangover potion,” Damon remarked as he glanced at the goblet, before nodding at Jared’s room, “Layla will appreciate it.” Rosalind blinked at them as they all started heading down the hallway. They had nearly reached the corner of it, before Rister turned, catching Rosalind just as she was about to slip into the room. “Damon and I are married and it seems Jared is otherwise occupied… Say, I won’t have to walk in on you sharing a bed with Gabriel tomorrow morning, right?” Rister drawled out, his words making Pip whirl around on spot, the younger boys eyes flashing between Gabriel who had snorted with laughter and Rosalind as if undecided at which to glare at. Snorting with laughter, Damon hooked his arm around Pip’s shoulders and steered hijm around the corner.
((Didn't come out as it was supposed too. But it's late nad my brain doesn't work. Meh.))
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Post by Layla Ellison on Jun 6, 2009 18:11:14 GMT -5
Over the years, Layla had developed a deep respect and fondness for Kris and Cleo. They couldn’t replace her parents, and she didn’t believe that they would ever try, but it was nice to know that she could go to them for advice. Ashlyn tried her best but her only real experience of families was the Graas’. Her first choice of confidante had always been Jared, or Gabriel if his brother wasn’t around, but Layla had slowly withdrawn from them all upon the realisation that, while she had never looked at Jared as a brother, her regards of him were even less familial than before. It was a simple matter of feeling ashamed. Layla had watched, with quite a lot of amusement, as Ashlyn and Damon grew closer, as Rister and Merry married and as Killian and Alaric both endured the combined forces of the four brothers. Alaric especially had been treading upon dangerous grounds by daring to kiss Leandra in front of her brothers before they actually got married. Part of what Layla had always loved about being in Kris and Cleo’s company was that they could effortlessly amuse and entertain her without making her feel like she had to contribute more to the conversation than she wanted to. That feeling of utter comfort when around them was most likely the reason Layla had barely noticed the glasses of red wine she swallowed as the conversation demanded the majority of her attention, and the rest of her mind naturally wandered to thoughts of the Jared type. The first true hint that Layla received about the fact that she was, perhaps, slightly less than sober was when her nose slammed into Kris’ chest and her only comment was to compliment him on his scent. Oddly, her first thought was not that she was being slightly oddly by sniffing Kris but that she sounded like Damon when he smelled Ashlyn’s hair and found it to his liking. Feeling safe in the security of Kris’ hold, though slightly dizzy and confused as to why Kris was carrying her like a child when she was perfectly grown up, even if Jared didn’t notice because he was an idiotic male who really needed to follow Gaenor’s example by falling in love with a younger girl who loved him with a feeling of inevitable hopelessness and heartbreak.
Ooh. Jared. She liked Jared. She really liked Jared. Layla giggled as she stared up at him adoringly, wrapping her arms around his waist as she leant her head against his shoulder to inhale deeply. He smelled a lot better than Kris, Layla noted dazedly, again giggling at the thought that she had picked up on Damon’s odd habit of smelling people. Ashlyn always complained about it. Layla thought it was adorably cute but had decided not to tell Damon so after she had confided that thought in Jared and he had burst into laughter. A thought struck her, making Layla glance upwards and stare at Jared: “Can I kissh you?” Her voice had been unusually determined and she had only slurred her words once, which had evidently convinced him that she was truly the perfect girl to spend the rest of his life with since his response had been a quite firm ‘certainly’. Layla wasted only a moment smiling in drunken wonder at her victory – finally, a kiss from the only boy she had ever really wanted! – and the feel of Jared’s arms around her before rising to her toes, swaying slightly, as she claimed the kiss she had been waiting a long time for. The lack of response made Layla pull away and frown at him unhappily. He had agreed; he was meant to kiss her back. If she had the decency to ask then he should have the decency to make her courage worthwhile by kissing her back. She would give him one more chance, Layla decided before leaning in for another kiss.
The sharp pain in her head didn’t clear her thoughts of the alcohol-induced daze but instead made her cover her mouth with her hand as she stumbled to the bathroom. As she retched, a few hot tears burning their trail down her face just as they always did when she had to vomit but more intense this time because the small, sober part of her mind knew that Jared had offered his rejection wordlessly. To others, the silence might have been interpreted differently but Layla had lived for years without words; she knew a delighted silence from an utterly shocked and horrified silence. Exhausted, Layla collapsed on the cold floor and stared up at Jared unhappily. “Yoush didnst kissh me,” she informed him sleepily. There was still some alcohol left in her system to numb the painful sting of rejection otherwise Layla would have abruptly followed Lita’s example in retreating from situations that were too hard to deal with. In the moments before the darkness of sleep descended, Layla idly wondered if Ashlyn would kill Jared quickly or slowly (he was family, and Ashlyn did like him but he had hurt her cousin and that could not be tolerated) or if Damon, Rister and Gabriel would manage to calm her down before the murder. It would be hypocritical of them to not let Ashlyn be furious, because they had certainly not hidden their anger with boys who had tried to coax interest from Leandra or Morgana.
Before even opening her eyes, Layla whimpered miserably at the sharp pain of the hangover. Without searching her memory, she wouldn’t remember much of last night but she was too sleepy to even try. She was sleepy and comfortable as she unconsciously snuggled closer to Jared’s warmth without opening her eyes. The sound of a voice resounded in her ears, aggravating the pain in her temples, so Layla burrowed deeper under the blank in displeasure, hoping that the loud voice would go away. After a while, Layla reluctantly opened her eyes, accepting that sleep wouldn’t return to her, and tried to piece together the memories of the previous night. She had talked to Kris and Cleo. There had been wine, red wine – three glasses of it? After a while of stumbling through the hallways, Kris had simply given up and carried her. At the realisation that she had told Kris he smelled nice, Layla flushed lightly and started to think that wine wasn’t a good drink. Then the memory of kissing Jared – and actually having the audacity to complain that he hadn’t kissed her back! – returned to her and Layla’s blush deepened. Layla had never seen anyone blush brighter than Merry when Rister teased her but, at that moment, she was absolutely certain that Jared could see the glow from her reddened cheeks through the blanket. Layla corrected her earlier thought: wine was an absolutely evil drink and she would dislike Kris immensely for the next few weeks because he had not only permitted her to get drunk but actually delivered her to Jared.
Reluctant, but reasoning that Jared deserved to at least know that she wasn’t planning to stay burrowed in his bed until she died of humiliation (or lack of oxygen since it really was quite hard to breathe with her entire face covered by the blanket), Layla slowly peeked over the edge of the blanket and immediately disappeared again once Jared started to recite her list of offences. He reminded her of Hawthorne’s detentions. Layla scowled sulkily, feeling awkwardly mortified as she wondered if it was too late to tell Jared that she simply went around kissing people when she was drunk. He pulled the blanket away and Layla just barely resisted the urge to scowl at him. Couldn’t he leave her to her mortification? Blue eyes widened slightly at Jared’s question but she silently studied him for a few moments, trying hard to gauge how serious he was. There was no mocking smile and she had always trusted that, if he ever found out, Jared would at least reject her gently so Layla carefully mimicked the same light-hearted tone that Jared had used: “And if I did?” The kiss he gave her as his reply was chaste but it soothed the doubts and insecurities she had been hiding for the past few years. There would be a lot of issues to deal with: the reaction of their family, particularly Ashlyn, and Layla wasn’t self-assured enough to simply accept that Jared found her attractive and she certainly didn’t believe that he loved her, not yet, but she could be patient and he had always been able to soothe her better than anyone else. Her unshakeable faith in him was proved enough by her undisturbed sleep with the comforting glow of her crystal nightlight. She could barely sleep in her own bed without the nightlight so she was surprised that either Jared’s presence or his bed had chased away her nightmares.
A familiar voice interrupted the kiss and Layla sighed, closing her eyes in mixed resentment and amusement. They were, Layla supposed, quite lucky that Ashlyn apparently wasn’t in the group that had come to wake Jared. Her insecurities rose to the surface once more as she opened her eyes and sat up to see the silent boys in the doorway. Was she not good enough for him? Did they not approve? Gabriel’s approval allowed Layla to relax though she still eyed Rister and Damon timidly. Damon was the last to pass judgement, and the reminder of Ashlyn’s reaction made Layla grimace slightly but the relief was too powerful for her to worry about her cousin’s reaction yet. Maybe Damon could put their bond to use and calm her before Ashlyn could consider any reaction but calm acceptance. Silently, Layla sighed at the knowledge that she wasn’t going to have any more time with Jared but she knew that she needed time to accept that this was actually real and she could contemplate Ashlyn’s reaction to the idea if she had some time to herself. And Jared probably had a lot more to think about than she did, Layla thought complacently. After all, he had not been in love with her for several years so the idea would still be new to him. She already knew that she could be patient. She could wait a little while longer and give Jared a few days away from her while he sorted his thoughts. Pip’s wicked smirk flashed at her from his spot behind Rister as the boys walked away and Layla groaned quietly, dreading the little pest’s teasing. Rosa’s reaction would be a lot worse though. Just the thought of the high-pitched squeal of excitement made Layla cringe in silent sympathy for her aching head.
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The crowd of people near Jared’s room made Rosa’s eyebrows rise slowly, especially when she spotted Jared in the midst of the boys. Kris had sent her up with the potion and, since he had directed her to take it to Jared’s room, she had presumed that the potion was for him. As Jared was walking around and smiling, this apparently wasn’t correct. “Layla?” Rosa frowned slightly then grinned wickedly, eyes glimmering impishly. So Layla was in Jared’s room with a hangover? And Jared looked quite happy about having a hung-over girl in his room. Rosa regarded Rister silently for a moment then smiled with perfect innocence. “Well, you haven’t caught me sharing his bed before so I’m quite sure you won’t catch me tomorrow morning,” Rosa answered sweetly, smirking at Rister slyly as she stepped into Jared’s room. Pip would be angry at the joke but at least he was with the boys so Rosa wouldn’t have to suffer through his grumbling.
After a small amount of coaxing, and the threat of not giving her the potion, Layla told Rosa of the events that had happened the previous night and that morning. Rosa listened silently, letting out occasional smirks of triumph because it wasn’t often that she was right and Layla was wrong, and then narrowed her eyes dangerously when Layla came to the end of her tale. “He kissed you,” Rosa repeated with deceptive calm. “He kissed you, Rister showed his usual bad timing by interrupting and then he just left?” The disbelief in her voice was evident and confirmed by the way she jumped to her feet as if to drag Jared back to the room right that instant. “Do these men have no idea about romance?” Rosa demanded incredulously. “Prince Charming did not kiss his lady for the first time and then go skipping off to ride a horse! He can ride whenever he wants to! He’s ridden for all the years you’ve been in love with him! Can’t he take one day away from his precious horse and sit down to discuss this changing relationship with you?” Layla was smiling at her and her lips were twitching with the effort it took not to laugh so Rosa grudgingly returned to her seat on Jared’s bed. “He needs time,” Layla explained simply, “Jared wasn’t expecting to wake up this morning and kiss me. So I’ll leave him alone to think for the next few days.” Rosa watched in concern as Layla’s eyebrows drew together in mild concern and her teeth bit at her bottom lip harshly. “I just hope he doesn’t change his mind,” Layla confided in a whisper, her eyes pained at the thought of losing Jared after so short a time. It would have been kinder to never have had his affection at all. Wordlessly, Rosa hugged Layla, offering comfort with her nearly silent breaths until the blonde drew away with a weak smile. Layla hated to show weakness so Rosa bit her tongue to prevent herself asking anymore questions and silently promised to deliver Jared to Ashlyn if he dared to hurt Layla by deciding that she wasn’t the one he wanted.
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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Jun 7, 2009 7:24:18 GMT -5
Ashlyn wasn’t the same hot-tempered, proud girl who had fought against accepting that Damon loved her and that his family could be her family. She had grown up, married the most infuriating man she had ever been fortunate enough to meet and, from the time she was fifteen, taken custody of her cousins. Damon, technically, had been the one granted custody of them but that had been on paper only. Ashlyn had dealt with Keegan’s protectiveness of his twin sister, Alexis’ utter disdain and hatred for her half-sister and Layla’s nightmares. Layla especially had clung to her with desperation that had sometimes terrified her, because what did she know about raising an eleven year old girl? The close relationship between the blondes, however, was why Ashlyn had seized Layla and promptly pulled her into her own music room with a cutting glare aimed at Jared, warning him that she would deal with him later. “You got drunk and finally confessed your feelings to Jared,” Ashlyn summarised neatly after listening to Layla’s timid tale. Layla’s eyes widened slightly at the lack of anger from her cousin, making Ashlyn shrug sadly. “You’re an adult now, Layla; not the scared little kid that needed me to protect you. I can tell you that letting Kris get you drunk was a very foolish act, because you should know by now that he rarely does something without a reason. I can also tell you that if you spend the night in Jared’s bed again before his ring is on your finger, I will quite happily ensure that he can never have children.” Layla nodded without surprise; Ashlyn was a traditional pureblood and she, to some extent, trusted Jared with her cousin. An engagement would be almost equal to a marriage in Ashlyn’s eyes. Rister, Damon and Gabriel would be the stricter ones.
Ashlyn nodded in silent dismissal, watching Layla walk to the door thoughtfully. “If you ever think for even a moment that you’re not worthy of someone, I will not be pleased and you will not like my reaction,” she warned heatedly, a flash of temper showing when Layla tilted her head in silent confusion. She would understand some day, Ashlyn thought humourlessly, barely noticing when Layla slipped through the door and left Ashlyn to her thoughts. Jared was not a bad choice for Layla, and Lita had noticed Layla’s growing affection years ago and gently pointed it out to Ashlyn. If anyone would have noticed the look of unrequited love for an older friend then it would be Lita so Ashlyn hadn’t doubted her for longer than a moment of instinctive denial. It had been a hard idea to adjust to. Layla had become somewhat like a younger sister and they were close. Ashlyn had guided her through her first appearance in a concert, taught her how to manage stage-fright and how to take proper care of her instruments. But, as Lita had pointed out, Jared had been Layla’s first choice of companion for a long time. It had been his shoulder she had cried into when music was lost to her after breaking the bones in her hand too many times for them to heal properly. It was Jared, Ashlyn admitted without hesitation, who could rival Layla’s love for music. Ashlyn had used music to remind her of her uncle and there had always been a bittersweet pain connected to her compositions. Layla and Jared played for simple love of music. She had been contemplating the possibility of their relationship for over three years, ever since Lita finally told her about her suspicions. Ashlyn sighed when she felt her husband’s presence in the room. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted bluntly. “They’re both family and Layla doesn’t entirely believe that this isn’t just a long dream. I never thought that it would happen this way. I didn’t really think that it would happen at all. I want to make sure that he won’t hurt her but I already know that he’ll try hard not to.” Ashlyn smiled wryly as she rose to her feet. “Why couldn’t Layla fall for someone I would actually have a reason to threaten? Jared already knows that I’ll murder him if he ever breaks her heart.”
It didn’t take long to find Jared, though Ashlyn was slightly surprised to find him being quietly scolded by an irate Rosalind: “You don’t just skip off and leave her! Without even a kiss! What kind of man are you!” Amused, Ashlyn raised an eyebrow at her. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t encourage Jared to keep my cousin in his bed,” she advised dryly, suppressing a smile when Rosa turned around with a guilty smile. Ashlyn calmly side-stepped them but was stopped by Rosa’s accusing voice: “No death threats?” Ashlyn turned her head to glance at them both, studying Jared and silently enjoying Rosa’s indignant stare. “He doesn’t need them,” she told Rosa after a few moments of thoughtful silence. “He already knows that I’ll hurt him if he ever hurts Layla, and it amuses me to let him imagine painful and torturous punishments rather than tell him exactly what I’m going to do to him.”
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Post by Layla Ellison on Jun 21, 2020 15:10:47 GMT -5
It feels awful to admit it even to herself but, as much as Layla loves Jared, she doesn’t trust him. Well, she considers as Rosa's slim arm around her waist guides her down a flight of stairs and into the bedroom that's been Layla's since she was a mute child, that isn’t quite accurate. The part of her that loves Jared trusts him implicitly; he's her friend, her teacher, so deeply rooted in her life that she wouldn’t even know where to begin in untangling him. It’s the part of her that’s in love with him that views the events of the morning with a painfully distrustful gaze.
She isn’t naive and she isn’t wilfully obtuse the way Ashlyn had been back in the days when she shared a bed with Damon and still somehow managed to convince herself that he hadn't wound himself around her heart. She knows that Jared has never looked at her as anything more than a child. Layla and Rosa have spent parts of every summer in the castle for years; they've played and swam and sometimes lounged around in the sun wearing swimsuits that had made Ashlyn roll her eyes with amused indulgence. Layla is reserved around strangers but Rosa most certainly isn’t and so her best friend has dressed her up and dragged her along to enough parties and illicit school gatherings that Layla knows what desire looks like when it’s directed at her. She’s never seen even a hint of it in Jared's dark eyes and one kiss - three kisses, her mind chips in unhelpfully; one last night, not that she thinks that that disaster could in any way be reasonably termed a true kiss, and two this morning and there could have been more if not for the interruption - doesn’t change that. She’s already several chords ahead of him in this piece and he hasn’t even decided if he wants to pick up an instrument yet, didn’t even know there was an instrument available to him at all.
When she glances up from her hands, Rosa is cross-legged on the bed next to her, watching with soft, patient eyes. “You’ve had one hell of a morning,” the dark-haired teenager observes quietly and Layla manages a rueful smile in answer. There's a deck of cards already arranged between them, ready for her to reach out and move them around as she talks. Layla always has found it easier to speak of troubling matters when her hands are busy, which Rosa well knows. This is the side of her best friend that she loves best, the sunshine warmth of her rather than the cold manipulations that had surfaced after it became known that Pip was going to be a single father at 17. Rosa has always been capable of twisting most people around her little finger, usually with a pout and a bat of her hazel eyes, but it had usually been in the name of innocent, reckless escapades. Rosa got them into trouble, Layla got them out of it. That’s just how the world worked. But then Natalia had damaged the two youngest Garwins in one fell swoop and Layla isn’t sure she’ll ever forgive the girl for it. The taste of hatred is still bitter and unfamiliar in her mouth but it lingers every single time she's reminded of the damage that girl has wrought in their lives. The triplets are precious little monsters and Layla loves them dearly but she quietly thinks she would quite happily rip Natalia's pretty black hair right out of her head if given half the chance.
“Remember when you used to think that fairytales could be real?” Layla asks as she begins the game of solitaire laid out in front of her. Rosa's eyebrows arch sharply in surprise but she hums a wordless affirmation, patient enough to wait for the moment that this topic meanders its way to actually having a point. She learnt years ago that Layla shares some basic similarities with a skittish horse or a frightened puppy; interrupting her when she's in this sort of mood will just spook her and make her clam up. She has to get there in her own time. “Where Cinderella never took offence that the prince needed a shoe to recognise her, as if her face shouldn’t have been enough of a giveaway. Where a fully grown man climbed a very tall tower using Rapunzel's hair for a rope and somehow didn't scalp her. Where the prince falls in love with Snow White after just one kiss and they live happily ever after because that’s just how the story goes. But if he had known her beforehand,” Layla murmurs, blue eyes finally lifting to meet Rosa's gaze, “and such a thing as kissing her had never occurred to him before he was put in a position where he couldn't ignore the truth - if that had been part of the story, happily ever after doesn’t come so quickly, if it ever comes at all.”
Rosa hums again, contemplative this time, as she curls around Layla and tugs at her insistently until they're both reclining back against the pillows. Layla is older than her and far more sensible but there are still some things that Rosa knows more about than her blonde counterpart. Hangovers, for one. Layla had drank the potion provided by Kris, despite pulling a face at the awful taste, but she's still tired and dehydrated. Hangover potions are fantastic but they're not a cure-all, which is a fact that Rosa emphatically bemoans each time she has to drag herself to class the morning after a party. Layla's tired exhale is warm against her skin as the blonde tucks her head against Rosa's shoulder, earning a fond smile as Rosa smooths a hand over her hair. Hangovers and boys - the only two topics in the world that could ever have Layla turning to Rosa for guidance rather than the other way around, she reflects with an inaudible snort. Hangovers and boys, the total sum of the knowledge she’s going to take away from Hogwarts when she graduates.
“So then maybe Snow White has to wait a while for the prince to catch up,” she responds softly, voice barely above a whisper as she readies her best friend for the possibility of heartbreak because, really, that’s what Layla's asking of her right now. She won't strip away all vestiges of hope for a happy ending, not when that’s what they’re both hoping for, but they live in a world where magic is real and fairytales aren’t. “Men can be slow sometimes, we have to make allowances for them. But princes aren’t always who we think they're going to be. Sometimes the man we think is a prince turns out to be a frog once he's been kissed, and that’s alright too. It’s not anyone's fault. It doesn’t mean that either of you have done anything wrong or that there isn’t someone else out there for you both. Sometimes it’s even that you've found the right person but it’s just the wrong time.”
Rosa waits until Layla has drifted off, her breaths deep and rhythmic, before slipping out of her loose grasp with an ease that speaks of experience in not waking people while she makes a quiet exit. It was just a few glasses of wine but Layla really isn’t accustomed to alcohol and it had been enough to have her kissing Jared so Rosa guesses that Layla will wake from her nap within an hour or two, groggy but otherwise fine. The sun is strong as it streams in through the window but Rosa tucks a crystal nightlight by Layla's pillow before she closes the bedroom door behind her anyway, just in case. She may have managed to sleep well enough without one last night but sleeping alone is different to having someone else in the bed, their warmth readily available to keep away whatever demons are lurking in the dark.
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