Pairing: Symantha and Sara
She was grace. She was everything that mattered to me. She was the very reason I was alive today. She was everything that was right with my world...and everything that was wrong. Symantha. The light of a world that wasn't mine. It was a cold Autumn morning when I opened my eyes. My body ached in all the right places as a smile graced my lips. I stretched out, feeling the crack and pop of my joints. Below my chest I felt the stirring of the body pressed against mine, curling close to me for warmth. My little snowflake. I softly threaded my fingers through her hair, hearing her mumble quietly as she was starting to wake.
Her voice was quiet, though slightly raspy. I snickered softly, being the reason behind that. I pushed up, leaning further against the headrest, her black mop of bed head rolling into my lap. My goddess, she was breathtaking. The sun reflected off her pale, porcelain skin, her hazel eyes dilating as she flinched and blinked against the invading sunlight. This was my Symmy, my best friend and lover of many years. While we weren't exactly a couple, we acted like one almost constantly. She lived with me, and we shared a bed. She was almost always beside me, lighting up the darkness that she also brought with her.
The bane of my existence, and the cause of my pain. The reason behind the fist shaped dents in the wall, and the claw marks hidden by my hair. Shawn. The man who claimed he could fix her, could take away her pain and misery that life had thrown her way, time and again. My fist clenched around the comforter below me, as an angry shudder ripped through me.
"Baby? You okay?"
I was knocked from my reverie from my sleepy angel, who was watching me curiously. I guess she had sensed my anger. I quickly flashed a soft smile, and leaned down, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss, though sideways, was tender and gentle, polar to our exchanges last night. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she giggled. Even after all the years, she reacted like a new love bird, experiencing everything for the first time.
Sometime through our breakfast of toast and egg whites, I cringed as I heard her ringtone go off. A pained look flashed across her face as she offered a small, apologetic smile. She poked at her egg, biting her lip as she tried to ignore it, knowing my disdain for the man. I sighed and nodded to her, watching her quickly bound off to the living room to retrieve the offending electronic. I hated cell phones.
"Tonight? S-sure! ...No, it's not a problem at all....I'll tell her...Bye bye."
A growl, low and quiet tore itself out from my throat before I realized it, and I saw her flinch as she hung up the phone.
"...What does HE want?"
She frowned and suddenly found our beige carpeting intensely interesting.
"He...I....He invited me to go see the symphony. It's tonight, and they are playing several Mozart pieces. I know you don't like him, but you know how I love music and-"
I watched her with a deadpanned expression as she fed me yet another bullshit excuse. It was every week at the very least and it was becoming more frequent. I was far from stupid. She would have faint, poorly covered bite marks that were from a mouth far too large to be mine. She'd have soft, but large hand prints on her hips, but claim I had left them there on a rough night. I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting the urge to spit out a response. We were becoming fragile enough and I was losing the will to fight. I let out a puff of air and nodded, meeting hopeful eyes.
She didn't look at me like that anymore, and it killed me because I knew he was graced with her beautiful doe-eyed expressions.
"...be back by 11?"
She broke out in a large grin, and hugged me tightly. I repressed a shudder, biting back a groan as she pressed against me.
"No. Absolutely not."
I growled out as Sym emerged into our bedroom. She was in a tight black dress, that hugged her every curve. A sweetheart top accentuated her breasts, and a very high, far too high, slit ran up just inches below her waistline. She work black and silver, 3 inch heels, that wrapped up around her ankles, accented by a small shimmering flower. She was gorgeous, and I'd be damned letting her go to him like this. She groaned loudly and exhasperatedly, throwing her hands up.
"This is the fifth outfit you have rejected. What would you have me wear?! And Eskimo coat?!"
My eyes narrowed as I stood up. While I may have been shorter, my fuse was just as short.
"Why do you feel the need to dress up for music? I'm not going, so who is it you feel such a need to impress?!"
My anger dimmed a bit as I saw her flinch the louder I got. I mentally counted to ten, knowing barking would get me nowhere.
"I...I just want to look nice. This is a formal event, and these tickets are extremely hard to come across. You don't go to Mozart in sweatpants or jeans Sara"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and I felt my nails dig into my palm, drawing small crescent filled lines of blood.
"I understand that Sym, but...you can't wear something less...-"
I was cut off by her accusatory glare as she interrupted, "Like what Sara? Like a whore?! Go ahead and fucking say it!"
It always came back to this. This was Syms defense. The years of physical and mental abuse had left her an emotional wreak, who thought everyone was out to get her. Broken, and suicidal was how I found her, clinging to her knees on the side of the road. Month and months of therapy had finally got Sym to a somewhat stable mental health, but there were always relapses in her trust. Although, my patience and understanding was steadily thinning, as this was thrown up more and more about him.
"Sym, for the love of the Goddess, can we not do this again? You know that's not what I was going to say."
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, the top of her dress nearly low enough for them to escape. She didn't look convinced as she leveled a half glare at me.
"Then what were you going to say? Hm?"
I looked her over, taking in every detail of her and let out a defeated sigh. I stood up, walking to my porcelain princess, kissing her tenderly on the cheek.
"Just...be safe? Okay?" My voice was that of a mother who knew her child was playing with fire, but could do nothing prevent the inevitable damage. I could only sit back and wait, to let her make her own mistakes. Except it wouldnt be her that got burnt in the end.
Shawn was a man over average height, and build. He had shaggy brown-red hair that turned lighter in the summer. His eyes were a light crystalline blue, that I might have found beautiful, had they not always been focused on my Sym. He wasn't a bad man to where I could find a legitiment reason to hate him. He was kind to her and showered her with affection that didn't seem to matter if it came from me. He was hard working but easy going, opposite to most men that had come and gone in Syms life. I might've been friends with the bastard if she wasnt so in love with him. I flinched both inside and externally as those carved themselves against my heart. I wanted to spite Sym. I wanted to curse her to the Norse Gods and beyond. I wanted her to know what she was doing to me, the agony she bestowed upon me every morning thag I was greeted by an empty bed.
But nothing would change. And I was steadily growing to accept that. The more I pushed and fought against him, the further into his arms she ran. The less I fought, the more time she with him, thinking it was okay. I was sinking fast on a busted mariner, with no where to go but down.
The clock struck three in the morning, ringing enough times to seemingly test my patience. I had asked for her to be home by 11, knowing the symphony ended at nine. I had given her enough to do things that physically made me sick thinking about them, the least she couldve done was be home on time.
I raised up from the chair I had been waiting in and stretched. I coulfnt wait any longer. I had work later in the morning, and I knew she wouldnt be home tonight.
Come six forty five, a few hours later, and I was woken by the distinct sound of a cardoor and then my own front door. I groggily looked over at the clock, having slept terribly and groaned in annoyance. Half at her time of arrival, and half at I was now up, hours before my shift even started. I kicked the covers off, probably a bit harder than necessary, and made my way to the bathroom, planning to get my morning ritual out of the way before arguing started.
Finished there, I exited the room and was frozen to my spot. Sym was curled up on the covers, already passed out. Her hair was an absolute mess sticking out everywhere with what I could pray was just sweat. She no longer carried the soft, petal-like acent of lilac, lavender, and the slight citrus finish that was just...Sym. Instead the scent that plauged the room was a heavy outdoor scent, one I would've described as pine trees, leather, and just the general musky hint that men carry with them. There was also a crushing wave of sex radiating from her, that rendered me nauseous and light headed on my feet. Right as I went to turn away, planning to empty the contents of my stomach, I caught the glimmer of something silver around her neck. I grew cold as I stepped closer, seeing the locket o locket of sterling silver, grace her thin neck. It was heart shaped with three stones it. Three stones that bore themselves into my vision, and the very core of my soul. There were pink Tourmaline gems, the popular gem symbolizing October birthdays. Between and a bit below the hauntingly pink stones was a small amethyst jewel. Amethyst was for February, and I only knew of one person. One tiny, tiny person who could belong there.
Grabbing my coat, I stormed out of my home.
"I don't believe this, I don't fucking believe this. That son of a BITCH"
I punctuated my curse with a hard kick to my 2004 honda civic, ignoring the searing pain that shot it's way up my leg. I wanted nothing more than to continue attacking my poor car, but I couldnt afford going to jail. Again. I had already spent a weekend in jail for attacking one of Syms exs. Apparently you get jailed for attacking a rapist. Who fucking knew?
After a taxing fifteen minute drive, which quickly morphed itself into thirty minutes due to traffic, I pulled into the color splattered parking lot. Our srudio was a two story tattoo parlor, atop an art gallery. We had three rooms, two bathrooms, and the managers office. I smiled a bit as I realized how far we'd come. Stepping into my little cubicle I snickered a bit. Goddamn right I was the manager. I cleared up my desk before my door was kicked open.
Before me was my busty, beautiful, and absolutely terrifying best friend. Sam. The one who had introduced me to my angel, and the one who was my rock.
"GAWD SAM, IM SORRY"
I bellowed back, biting back my bubbling laughter that threatened to overflow. I watched the faux grimace quickly morph into a cackle as Sam and I lost our shit.
Upon regaining our composure, we both let out a hearty smile. I fought to keep my eyes above her chest, still having difficulty after all the years.
"You got the new drawings for the book?" She pondered looking around my office. Sam was my best tattoo artist, and arguably the best in town. I drew many of the designs and she worked her magic on them. I nodded to her as I tossed her the big black book of arts and things. We headed out and set about our day.
Listening to: Mark Henry on Raw
Reading: This ->-
Watching: Monday Night Raw
Playing: The waiting game
Drinking: Coke Zero Vanilla