Home Sweet Home? (3)

Angel brings Cecily to his house and mixes up her "medicine".

Bold / red = FEVER
Regular = Tag

Angel allowed her to hold onto him. It was dark, and if she tripped, she'd get scraped. And probably start crying or some s**t. Whatever.

            He was silent for the entire walk to his car. He just got in, and waited for Cecily. Hopefully she at least knew how to open a f*****g car door among all the fairies and bubblegum princess dancing around in her head.

            The car shook briefly, and Angel gave it some gas. With a lurch, he took the machine out onto the street.

            "God d****t, this place has changed. It's changed too much." Angel thought to himself under all the flashing lights and signs along the business district.

           

            Twenty years ago, he was ten. The city wasn't as big and sprawling as it is today, and Angel rode the bike that both of his parents managed to scrounge up money for. There were no collared people in the street. There weren't large billboards advertising "the best night of your life!" with a hooker or an escort or something.

            Angel remembered the first time the "rats" came to the streets. His father, in between gulps of whiskey, would warn him, "That f*****g a*****e perresident! up an let them fuckers out of jail!" then he would stumble forward, and tell him, "boy, that therr  perresident sucks c**k! Now they're all out on the streets, they think at collars can let people know who they are, what the f**k!"

            "You up an stay outta that park at night? you hearrr boy?"

 

            Angel blinked back to the road. Realizing his street was only fifty feet ahead, he braked and veered. The tires squeaked onto the suburb road.

            "Ah, s**t, i didn't fall asleep, did I?" He pondered aloud.

            Cecily sat in the back seat, silent the whole ride. Her head was pressed against the back of his seat and she tilted her head ever so slightly, watching the street lights bounce off of the floor of the car. It was an odd sight, watching them dance across the leather and the carpeted floor. A car. A nice car. That moved! That worked! Sadly, she didn't really have it in her to be jumping around all joyously. The whole thing seemed a little fake.

            The romance of the street lights, a nice place to rest, she didn't know this kind of life and it unnerved her a bit. Sure, she was ready to pounce on the next odd item and twirl it in her hands, but she was also ready to curl up and go to sleep. And Angel... He didn't seem to be too happy right now. No sleep in a week? Could he really be telling the truth? Cecily didn't think a person could go that long without sleep. She wanted to reach around and grab the sides of his jacket, almost hugging him but still only through the seat. However, she wasn't that dumb and knew it probably wouldn't end with him being all happy and whatnot. What kind of man was he, really? Cecily was certain if she pulled out pieces of him, she'd be staring at a completely different person. There were Rats like that too. They acted nice, but a lot of them were spiteful and mean and stole from all the other Rats who were too scared to defend themself. But not Cecily. No, she was oh so very sure she would pick this man apart between his happy moods and angry moods.

            Wasn't there a disorder for that? Like a... a double personality? Cecily couldn't remember the exact name for it and was struggling with her mind, watching the colorful lights, when he spoke up. She jumped slightly, startled when he veered to the side, and listened to him. Did he fall asleep?

            "No." To be honest, she was so deep in thought and all these swirling emotions she wasn't quite sure. Well, she wasn't dead.

            "Oh, but I probably wouldn't have died anyway because it's made of metal..." Her voice was soft, but she was speaking to herself and gently poking at the car door, gazing at it with an intense look of interest and curiosity.

            "Oh. Good. We're here." Angel pulled the car into his driveway. His house was about two miles from the edge of town in a swanky neighborhood. The money that bought him the house came from a particularly good deal a few years back, and with a bunch of money floating around, he spared no expense in the housing department.

            "Come on sweetheart, we're going inside." Angel was feeling a little better. Still tired, but better.

            His cigarette craving could wait until tomorrow, and his migraine had subsided a little bit. Wasting no time, he opened Cecily's door and took her arm, guiding her out of the car. He took her to the front door, where a tiny camera scanned his facial features. Satisfied that the owner of the house was standing on the doorstep, the lock clicked open, and he led Cecily in behind him.

            The inside of his home was much blander than the outside. Sure, he'd spent the extra money to have the new plush carpet installed, but that was something he walked on often. The walls were painted a calming blue, but that was something that would help him with his headaches. But the counters? Screw it. Plain oak. The mirrors? Unframed squares. The couch? It didn't find much use, and Cecily would have to suffer for it tonight. It was small, and padded sufficiently, but not like Angel's bed.

            "You hungry? Need anything? just wanna go to sleep? Talk to me."

            Cecily stared up in awe and when the camera scanned them, she froze, making an odd face, and was relieved when it stopped and he pulled her in. The house was... also boring looking. Hell, his office looked a bit more interesting. It looked like the place was hardly lived in and she wondered if she would be able to snoop around and find anything interesting. No. No no no no no! The man was already pissy and told her earlier not to touch anything and she had promised she wouldn't and... She paused and glanced up at him, blinking several times. Cecily didn't step too much past the door, afraid to get the carpet dirty. Talk... to him? She resisted the urge to give him one of those looks that would instantly get her kicked out. One of those "So you scream at me and then tell me to talk to you" kind of looks. Instead, she glanced down at her feet and fidgeted in place, pulling on the bottom of the sweater. A small smile was creeping up her lips and her cheeks were stained a light pink.

            "A drink would be nice." She peeked up at him through strands of her hair that had fallen over.

            Angel walked over to the refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of french wine, then walked over to the cupboard. He took two crystal glasses and set them out on the counter. "Hang on, gotta find my corker."

            Angel walked down the hall and into his bathroom. He opened a drawer and produced a small vial of pale liquid.

            "I can't take any chances with this one. She ain't goin nowhere tonight." He opened the vial and dipped his finger inside. The substance was just sticky enough to cling to his finger, but would easily drop off with a flick of his wrist.

            He then returned to the kitchen. "F**k, I'm tired, forgot the corker was in here." he opened the bottle as carefully as he could, but in his lack of sleep, the small drop of painkiller flung into the glass he intended to use for himself.

            He poured the wine and handed Cecily a glass. Angel took a sip of his own.

            "You like wine, right?"

            Cecily peeked around the wall, watching him in the kitchen, and she shifted back and forth on her feet. What to do? What to do?! After a second of inhaling, she carefully stepped over the carpet and into the kitchen, almost tripping. After regaining her posture, she stared up at him and carefully took the glass, staying very still in one spot. ' Don't spill it, don't spill it. ' she coaxed herself and carefully brought the glass to her lips, taking a sip. It tasted funny and she made a face, shaking her head quickly and frowning. Taking in a deep breath, she gulped it down and gasped, making another odd face between disgust and interest. It tasted so! So! So weird! She handed the glass back to him and wiped her mouth with the back of the turtleneck sleeve by accident. Noticing the mistake, she squeaked and quickly attempted to rub the wine off on her knee, bending over slightly.

            "I-I'm sorry!" Sending a worried glance up at him, a small grin curled up half of her face and she let out a small nervous laugh, trying not to run or freak out. She wanted to take the sweater off as it was a bit uncomfortable and kind of stuffy with her clothes underneath, but she didn't want the reminder, the scent, to go away and leave her alone again. So instead, Cecily just put up with it and continued scrubbing the small wet spot on her knee.

            Angel had begun to feel a little dizzy.

            "Jeez," he thought to himself. "After one sip? I'm not THAT much of a lightweight." He took another drink and said

            "Forget about it, It's a piece of s**t sweater. I just needed....needed.....needed you.. you to...."  his thoughts were becoming a bit slurred, and suddenly his eyes felt very heavy. "just...dan worry ‘bout it....s**t..." he stumbled over to the couch and fell asleep.

            Cecily squealed and took a few steps back, placing her arms up as a shield in case he fell her way. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Her heart was beating loudly, a little too loudly, in her ears and she stared at Angel in awe. Daringly, she looked around the living room.

            "No. No, you made a promise." Resisting every ounce in her body to just turn the place upside down and learn about him, she sighed and pulled at her hair in frustration. Cecily sent a way wards glance at him and cautiously stepped closer.

            Who was he? Extending her hand, she carefully grazed her finger tips over the 5 o'clock shadow adorning his face. Maybe he really hadn't slept in a week! Tempted to drag him off to bed, Cecily knew he would be too heavy for her and so she instead pushed him ever so slightly, making a bit more room on the couch. A blush stained her face, but she carefully peeled his coat off of him and set it on the back of the couch. She tugged at his tie, loosening it a bit so he wouldn't strangle himself in his sleep, and she continued to watch his body.

            After a few minutes of watching his chest rise and fall, Cecily carefully pulled her shoes and new socks off, setting them at the door and flicking the light off. She stumbled, finding her way carefully back to the couch where she curled up in the small space on the corner next to him, pressing herself against him so she wouldn't fall.

            Again, she rose her hand and first played with his hair blindly, feeling his face in the dark. Cecily traced her finger down his nose bridge and carefully over his lips, around the loops of his ears and down the dip in his neck. It was mesmerizing and she did it over and over again, not wanting to forget, until she was so tired she curled up all the way, gently gripping at the sleeves of her turtle neck, and fell asleep herself.

Reviews

Yeah, the red is just what I use when I'm typing to him. XD I'll probably be changing the color to something a little less harsh on the eyes, or just bold as you said.
And thanks! I'll be sure to watch for too many redundancies.

[Blue Moon Ice Cream]

I loved the ending--so cute. I didn't like the red color for Cecily's POV; for me, it was distracting. It seems like just using boldface type is fine; no color needed. This chapter flowed very smoothly within POVs, but I thought sometimes the switch was a little abrupt, and seeing the events from both pairs of eyes was, at times, redundant. In the previous chapters, though, it seemed fine.

[M Garcia]

Another good chapter, but making the font a little bigger will make it easier to read.