Love Letters

[Eastern Orange]

Dear Aria,
I got your letter (obviously), but my mother almost opened this time. She is getting suspicious. She doesn’t believe that I would spend two months writing to orphan kids. I told her to go get drunk, and stay out of my life. I don’t think I helped my case any, but at least she left the letter alone.

The only person I have told about our relationship is my 13 year old sister, Natalia. She is the sweetest girl ever, she won’t tell anyone. I have commissioned her to keep your letters hidden in her room, since my mother is a snoop, and Adrian knows exactly who I’m writing to and I wouldn’t put it past him to steal all the letters and hold them over my head somehow.

I’m happy to hear that your treatment is going well. How much longer do I have to wait to see you? My life is a mundane existence without you! Okay, I’m kidding, but only a little. Nothing worth mentioning has happened since I sent the last letter. Well, if you can count having to take Czar to the vet because he swallowed my house keys as something worth while.

Did I mention that I have a surprise for you? Well, two actually. Maybe if you would just let me visit you I can show you. But, since you refuse! You’ll just have to wait until you get out, I guess. When is that by the way? I don’t think you ever told me…

You are still coming to meet my family when you get out, right? I know you’re nervous, but I need you to meet them so my mother will finally stop trying to thrust that whore upon me. I don’t think I need to tell you who I mean by whore. I’m telling my mother about you tonight, so that it won’t be a total surprise when I bring you home.

Shit, that’s Adrian knocking on my door. I have to go now. Please get better soon, and don’t fall in love with any of those doctors!

Yours truly,
Julian

P.s. I miss you.

[Deleted]

Dear Julian,

Why the hell would you tell your mother that you're writing to orphans? Seriously, that's the oldest excuse in the book. I'm glad you've got your sister keeping the letters, though. She sounds great, and I really hope I get to meet her soon.

We've been over why you can't visit before. Initially I didn't want you here because I looked absolutely awful. Even after I didn't need the feeding tube anymore, I was still horribly malnourished and I just... I looked sick. And I didn't want you to worry. I feel much better now, and according the the doctors my body's in much better condition. Even so, these hospital gowns look horrible and I don't want anyone seeing me wearing them, especially you. I've got one or two more pounds to gain before I hit my goal weight, but if all goes well they should be letting me go home by the end of the week! I'll still have to come back once a week to weigh in and talk to my shrink... Oh, sorry, I mean my "psychiatrist," but I'm excited to be able to go home and sleep in my own bed. Even more exciting, I get to see you again.

Spending two months holed up in here has been hard. Everything in this place is so white. It smells like antiseptic, too, which is nasty. Thank goodness I've got a window with a view over the square so I can at least sit and watch the people go by. Sometimes I wish I could open the window and let a breeze in, but the windows on the psych ward don't open. Guess they don't want the crazy bulimic girl jumping to her death. It's been even rougher because of the fact that I've hardly seen anyone. Not my parents, not my brother, not you. My friend Dignity drops by sometimes to help me catch up with school stuff, but that's usually it. Some of the nurses here are pretty close to my age, though, so I have someone to talk to if I really feel like it. You know me, I'm too antisocial for most of them.

I've been writing a lot of music. My shrink... Dammit, my "psychiatrist," says it's a good form of therapy. Honestly I just do it because I'm bored, but I've actually got some pretty good lyrics in my notebook, so I'm excited to get my hands on a piano again. I think you'll like a few of them, we'll see.

And what was that about your mother throwing Felicity at you? I'm really not so sure that I'm going to be enthralled to meet your family, but it'll be worth it if I get an opportunity to kick her scrawny ass. I'm bigger than her now, it should be easy. I can't say that I'm not a little anxious about you telling your mom about me. After all, what about the poor orphans? No, but really, won't she have a problem with the fact I'm... you know... not rich? Not to mention the drama of the whole situation.

"Yeah, Mom, I want you to meet my girlfriend, but she has to get out of the psych ward first. She used to be bulimic, you know? Almost died."

That should be a really fun conversation. I can't wait until you write me back to tell me how it goes.

Yeah, right, I'm totally going to fall in love with one of my doctors. Forget the fact that they're all obnoxious and old enough to be my dad. You're so stupid sometimes, but it's okay, that's part of what makes you so damned adorable.

Anyway, apparently my mom just sent a big box of my old clothes over to the hospital for me to see if any of them fit. So, I guess I need to go try on a bunch of dresses now. Happy happy joy joy. I hope you write back soon!

All my love,


P.S. I miss you, too. More than you could ever know.

[Eastern Orange]

Dearest Aria,
My mother... She wasn't very thrilled. She has been planning my marriage to the whore since we were still in diapers. But don't worry she'll get over it. I told her that you saved my life and you were extorting me for money so I had to go out with you. She warmed up to you after that.

You thought I was serious didn't you? Ha, I wish I could have seen your face. No, I told her the truth. She has her reservations about you, but when she meets you I'm sure she'll... Yea, It's not going to be pretty. I'm sorry, but you'll have to meet her sooner or later. As for you not being rich, well she wasn't rich before she married my father. I'll just call her a fat hypocrite if she brings that up. Did I mention Adrian is excited about meeting you again? But he knows that I'll kick his ass if he bothers you.

Don't worry about the whore either. She has had this defeated attitude ever since I kicked her out of your house. Well, I did more then just kick her out. I never told you the full story... I'm pretty ashamed of myself. Once again, I apologize for your kitchen. Did your parents receive the new table and chairs I sent? And if it did come down to a fight between you and the whore, my money is on you.

You know I don't care about what you look like. If you would just let me visit, I'm sure I can make that place a little less depressing.

I can't wait to see you. These past few months have been terrible. There's nothing to do! I've been stuck in the house ever since I disappeared for that week. I have spent a lot of my time writing as well. And drawing and whittling. Ugh! I cant wait to show you my presents, you are going to love them! At least I hope so...

Natalia is watching me write this. She wants me to tell you that she is looking forward to meeting you, too. She also wants me to tell you she says hi. Okay, she is begging me to go riding with her, as payment for keeping your letters.

I'm anxiously awaiting your reply.

Yours Truly,
Julian

P.S. I don't believe you about the doctors! You're obviously hiding something. Do I have to hire a hitman?

[Deleted]

Dear Julian,

You are lucky that I didn't come marching out of this hospital to sock you in the face (for the... what is it now, fifth time?) after your little joke. Not funny. Not. Funny. I was about ready to throw the letter away and not read any more. Thankfully, I didn't do that. But to answer your question, yes, the look on my face was priceless.

I'm not scared of meeting your family, even though I'm aware that it's going to be... unpleasant at best. I'm sure your mother and I will be able to at least tolerate each other, and as for Adrian... Well, he can kiss my ass, and I'm not afraid to tell him so. How did he react when he found out I was your girlfriend and not some little plaything of yours? I'm sure it was great. How the hell do you two share enough genetic material to look exactly the same and yet act so completely different? He's a complete ass and you're... only an ass sometimes. But that's okay, because your slight assholery is part of what makes you so cute.

Mom and Dad love the new dining set. They sent in a letter last week saying that I should thank you for it when I got out, so apparently it's really nice. I'm not even going to ask how the first set got broken, namely because the image of you smashing a chair over Felicity's head is too entertaining to be replaced by what actually occurred. Can we please do something evil and vindictive like make out in front of her when I get out of here? I know, I'm horrible, but it'll be fun.

You might not care about what I look like, but I certainly do. Isn't that why I'm in here in the first place? I tried on those dresses that I talked about in the last letter. It was weird. I'm not used to having an actual shape, you know? Curves and stuff. It's unsettling seeing myself at a normal weight. I found a nice one that I think I'll wear when I come over and meet your folks, though, it has a bunch of pretty bright colors and a matching sweater that goes with it so I can do something to hide my massive football-player shoulders.

I'm not fully psychologically cured according to my shrink, seeing as I still think I look fat this way. But they're going to let me out on Saturday, since I'm physically under control. Today's Thursday, so that's two days. Two days and I'm out of this hellhole!

You're horrible at keeping secrets. Just tell me what my presents are. I'm sure I'll like them, even though you shouldn't have gotten me anything. I wasn't aware that graduating from the psych ward was a gift-giving occasion. And here I haven't gotten you a thing! Maybe I can convince them to let me have one of these horrible gowns. I'm sure you could find a way to make it look good.

I'm unbelievably excited to see you again. I actually had a dream about you last night. I don't really remember what it was about, only that it was nice. Anyway, I guess it suffices to say that I've been going crazy(er) without you these last couple of months. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to have a good insult battle with in a psych ward? They actually discourage us from talking negatively in here, it's downright oppressive. Gah, we are so weird. We have to be the only couple in the world that makes fun of each other on a regular basis. That's okay though, because I wouldn't have it any other way.

Anyway, tell Natalia I said hi, and that I can't wait to meet her. Tell Adrian I said hi, and that he's scum of the earth and needs to go die in a fire. Tell Felicity that I said hi, and that I win, bitch. Tell your mother... on second thought, don't say anything to her. But please make sure to tell Adrian and Hobag that I hate their guts.

I need to go start packing. I'm so excited to see you! In two days! Two fucking days!

Love always,

P.S. No, there are no hitmen required. All these doctors will die of jealousy when they see that I have an amazingly gorgeous boyfriend that I adore more than anything in the world. Plus, they all really are annoying and old. I wasn't kidding.

[Eastern Orange]

Dear Aria,
Guys just love to be called adorable, and cute. Nope, adjectives like ‘ruggedly handsome’ and ‘unbelievably hot’ are totally overrated. So I thank you for using the most girly names you could think of. I’m starting to think that you aren’t after me for my money, but my godly looks. Tsk, tsk, I’m hurt.

I wouldn’t mess with Adrian, Aria. He won’t hurt me, but he’ll have no qualms about hurting you. Please be civil when you see him, and leave him to me. We may not be close, but we are brothers, and Adrian at least respects that. He doesn’t think like a normal person… Sometimes I think that he is a sociopath. Just, keep your guard up when around him.

On a less sinister note, how do you know if I’m good with secrets? I’ll have you know that I can keep my mouth shut when need be, and just for that I won’t tell you what they are. Ha. You’ll just have to wait until you come here now. And I didn’t exactly get them either. One is something I saved from a terrible fate, and you already saw the other one.

I’m so excited to see you! I hope you can ride a horse.

Well, I guess I’ll just go bang my head on the wall for 48 hours. It’s time to sign my letter. Shall I sign it ‘yours truly’ like I have been? Nah, I think it has been overused. It’s time for something new, don’t you think?

Love,
Julian

P.S. Curves are sexy, ugly stick things like Whorebear are not.

[Deleted]

I can't stop pacing. Why can't I stop pacing? This is horrible. I can't go out like this. I can't let people see me like this. I can't let Julian see me like this. My bags sit, all neatly packed on top of the clean, impersonal white of my hospital bed, and my feet are wearing a groove in the sterile white tile for sure. I'm glad I'm finally getting out of here today. I hate this place, where everything is white and smells of antiseptic and misery. I needed to be here, that much is true, but it wasn't fun. Even after more than two months, the mental portion of my bulimia still isn't under control. But since I'm eating regularly and haven't thrown up in weeks, the doctors signed my release forms on the condition that I come back and sit through the tearful hell that is counseling once a week. Still, what does it matter? I'm going home.

The letters from Julian sit in their shoebox, carefully placed alongside my things. He's written me almost every day the whole time I've been here. Honestly, it's the only thing that's kept me somewhat sane. The fact that I have a boyfriend is still strange to me, especially a rich, badass, super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot boyfriend like Julian Scott. It's just... odd. And to think, he liked me when I was a creepy skeleton-girl. It really bothers me when I think how he's going to react to this new me. My pacing goes up another gear or two when the thoughts hit me. What if he doesn't like me this way? What if skinny girls are more his thing? What if...

I make my feet grind to a halt in front of the large full-length mirror that is adhered to the bathroom door. I'm still not used to seeing myself like this. The dress is new, its bright rainbow splashes of color making my freckled skin seem deathly pale in comparison. Of course I'm pale, I haven't seen the sunlight in forever. It's the shape of the body within the dress that bothers me. I don't ever remember having curves, and yet here they are, the tailored fabric of the sundress accentuating the new hourglass shape of my waist, mercifully falling loosely over the curve of my hips, which are now far too wide in my opinion, and stopping just below my knees, the legs that they reveal no longer spindly. I don't remember having any bust whatsoever, but I do now, and the dress is actually a little too tight through the chest area for my liking. My broad shoulders are still there, just not as sharp and angular as they once were, the light, short-sleeved brown sweater I have on doing little to conceal them.

I'm not looking at the same girl that I saw two months ago. Two months ago I was on the brink of death, my ribs easily countable, collarbone and shoulder blades razor sharp and straining against my skin. Bulimia is one fucking scary disease. It turns out if I'd come in just a few weeks later, I would have been beyond saving. I would have died. The doctors were able to salvage my broken body, hooking me up to a feeding tube so I wouldn't automatically throw up any nutrients my body took in. Within a couple weeks I could keep small meals down, followed by a full-sized, high-protein breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I gained weight rapidly, filling out to the one hundred and twenty pounds that is normal for a girl of my height and build. I hadn't really had much of a feminine figure when I'd started this whole business, but one had certainly emerged through my treatment, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about it.

My mind was proving to be a tougher nut to crack than the physical side of my disease. The shrink they assigned me just couldn't understand how I could possibly feel fat when they wheeled me into the hospital weighing a whopping eighty-five pounds. The disease had completely consumed me over the past two years, making it very difficult to root out of my poisoned mind.

"See that mirror, Aria? I want you to look into that mirror and say 'I am beautiful.'"

"...I can't."

"Why ever not?

"Because I'm not going to lie to myself."

Two months later, I had finally talked to the mirror just to get my stupid shrink to shut the hell up. I didn't believe it, though. I'll never believe it. My body may be fine, but I'm always going to be sick in the head. They've already told me the little hissing voice in the back of my consciousness is going to be something I battle for the rest of my life.

Nice dress, thunder-thighs.

"Shut up," I growl to the empty room, to myself, glaring at the girl in the mirror. Her dirty-blonde hair falls down around her shoulders in tousled waves, hazel eyes glaring back at me from within the round, freckled face. I've actually bothered to put on a little makeup. If I only focus on my face, I actually don't look too bad. I heave a sigh, my gaze at the mirror softening into a tired sort of complacency. I know what I'm supposed to do when the voice starts up.

"I am beautiful. I am beautiful. I am beautiful..."

[Eastern Orange]

“You’re beautiful.” I finish for her, chuckling. I step into the room and barely have enough time to fling my arms out, before Aria is across the room and jumping at me. I wrap my arms around her, and swing her in a circle. “I missed you so much!” I say, my face buried in her hair.

It was so good to see Aria healthy. I have been so worried for the past few months. She wouldn’t let me see her, so I had imagined all sorts of horrible things happening to her; shock therapy, water boarding, gross doctors prodding her with terrible equipment. But here she was, safely wrapped in my arms, with no pointy hip bones, or collar bones stabbing me, and I didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon.

“Aria!” I whisper, just so I can say her name. I haven’t spoken to her directly in two months; it felt wonderful to say her name. “Aria, Aria, Aria.” I squeeze her even tighter, then abruptly let go and hold her at an arms length. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” I grin and bring her forward so I can kiss her.

It’s awhile before I pull away again and look at her. “Now, go say goodbye to your love doctor, and let’s get out of this place. I spent the week at your house, now let’s go see mine.” I give a wicked grin. “Plus, if I take any longer bringing you home, Natalia will kill me.” I let her go, but think better of it, and give Aria another bear hug. I kiss her on the cheek, and finally let her go.

I pick up her bags, and leave her just a shoebox to carry. “I don’t want to leave your presents alone for too long. I don’t know what Adrian will do to them, if he finds them. He likes to root through my room.” I just stand there grinning brightly at her, so happy to see her. I want to throw down her bags and hug her again, but I really want to get her out of here.

[Deleted]

"You're beautiful."

It's a voice I haven't heard in over two months, a smooth baritone with a bit of a witty edge, the warm tone of affection in it a recent development. A laugh I've been dreaming about, calling up memories of snowball fights and stories whispered in the dark. I blink, once, twice, not convinced that he's really here. Finally, my body follows my orders to turn around, and there he is.

He looks the same as he always has. Same cruelly beautiful (but now mostly just beautiful, because how could he ever be cruel?) features, high cheekbones, strong jaw. Same tousled dark hair, falling just slightly into those eyes, those gorgeous storm-grey eyes that started everything. The rubber band that's been sitting in my chest for all these months stretches almost as tightly as I can bear, my breath refusing to come. He gives me that smile, the close-mouthed, lopsided one that's never failed to make me melt into a useless mess, and that's all it takes. The wonderfully painful longing sitting behind my sternum snaps, and I'm bounding across the room before I know what I'm doing.

"Julian!" It's a name that hasn't left my lips in two months. Talking about him hurt too much, missing him hurt too much, so I had contented myself to sit there with his letters, paper that somehow managed to smell like him, waiting for today. With the name leaving my mouth comes the onslaught of happy tears, dripping silently down my face as I feel his arms close around my waist. And it's all too much, him being here, holding me and murmuring how much he's missed me into my hair, my face buried in the hollow of his neck as I breathe in the intoxicating aroma of pine and old spice that will never, ever remind me of anything else but Julian. "I missed you, too."

My name still sounds wonderfully musical when he says it, the syllables forming their way into something much more beautiful than I could ever manage. Julian pulls back a little, finally getting a good look at me. The nerves kick in now, heart thrumming as all the fears about not looking good bubble up inside me. "You look absolutely gorgeous."

When he kisses me, I swear the world explodes. It's been more than two months. More than two months since he tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, leaned down, and gently pressed his lips to mine outside the doors of this very building. I was crying (big surprise, it seems I'm always crying nowadays), and he'd brushed away the wetness on my cheeks and smiled sadly. "You'd better come back to me."

[/i][/color]

Now it's entirely different. We're both happy and together and I'm healthy and nothing's ever going to tear us apart like that again. There's something incredibly reassuring about kissing Julian, the way he still tastes like dark chocolate and coffee, the way his hair still feels incredibly soft between my fingers, that makes me feel like there's still something solid in the world, something for me to hold on to. It's over far too soon, and he's picking up my bags and ushering me from the room.

It takes me a while to remember my way around the hospital, my fingers playing absently with the silk ribbon that holds my box of letters shut. How long has it been since I've stood in this front lobby? A million years, it feels like. It almost feels like I'm breaking the rules when I step out of the front door, even though my release papers were all signed today and I'm free to go. The sun's warm and wonderful against my skin, and I can't suppress the joyful laugh that bubbles over my lips when I get my first whiff of air in ages that doesn't smell like antiseptic. You can smell Spring in the air today, feel a promise in the warmth of the sunshine that winter's almost over. I gaze over at the tree-covered hills that roll away from the square, knowing that Julian's house is somewhere in that direction.

The realization hits me that I'm going to have to drag my bags all the way to Julian's, or more accurately Julian is going to have to drag them. I look back at him, an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning look. "Any brilliant ideas as to how we're going to haul all my shit to your place without killing ourselves?" [/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

I snort, and cock an eyebrow at her. “Us?” I say smiling, “Don’t you mean me?” I lift up the bags I’m holding and shake them for emphasis. “But don’t worry, I already thought of that. I’m pretty smart y’know? Maybe you’d know that if you didn’t just want me for my bod.” I wink at her, and walk around the corner of the building and into the alleyway were I tied my black mare and a fat dapple gray pony. I smile imperiously Aria. “I did say that I hoped you could ride a horse…”

I walk over the pony and start tying her bags onto his saddle. “This guy is Spencer. He is Natalia’s. She let me borrow him for the small price of promising to let her ride Marilyn.” I nodded toward the mare. “He will be the one carrying your bags, and we will be riding her.” When I’m done, I take the shoebox from her, and place it securely between the two bags.

“Okay, up you go!” I say brightly. I help her onto the horse and climb up behind her. “Now just relax.” I whisper in her ear, and wrap an arm around her waist, before griping the reins and nudging Marilyn, and Spencer who was tied to her, into motion.

The ride to my house is just under an hour on horseback. Most of it is spent in a comfortable silence. We kept each other updated in our letters so there was really no need to catch up on the past two months. I am just content to have the feel of Aria leaning back against me.

I spend some time briefly worried about how Aria is going to react to seeing Scott Manor... My father’s father built it, and he was by no means modest. It has three stories, a wraparound porch, too many windows and fireplaces to count, and the front of the house has an over abundance of columns. Not to mention the house sits in a huge painstakingly maintained lawn that just screams ‘stay off the grass!’ “Okay,” I say when my house is just about to appear. “I just want to warn you that my house is obnoxious.” And that’s when the trees clear ahead of us and the Manor comes into view.

We move up a gravel driveway, and we just reach the front of the house when a servant materializes and grabs Marilyn’s rein from me. I jump down and then turn and help Aria down. More servants appear to untie Aria’s luggage and take them up to my room, while another leads the horse to a stable around back.

“Well, if all went according to plan, my sisters are keeping Adrian and my mother occupied so we can get up to my room without being noticed before dinner.” I smile and offer her my hand.

[Deleted]

I've never ridden a horse before. It's a little scary being so high off the ground on the back of such a powerful animal, but it's nice to feel the almost-springtime air and Julian's arms around me for a long time. The woods are starting to come back to life a little bit, here and there I can see little shoots of green in the branches, spot a little rabbit or squirrel scattering dead leaves as it bounds toward its destination. The sight of the animals makes me vaguely wonder about Flint and Flicker, even though I know that my fox pup and mockingjay have been well cared-for in my absence. Still, I want to see them when I get home.

"Okay, I just want to warn you that my house is obnoxious."

[/i][/color]

The smooth baritone of Julian's voice interrupts my musing just as we turn the corner to trot up the driveway to the biggest house I've ever seen. My jaw drops, literally drops, and it takes all the willpower I've got not to fall out of the saddle in shock. Julian lives here? Hell, there are people in the Capitol who don't live half as well. It's a house that I imagine a royal family living in, which I guess is accurate considering the Scotts are the closest thing you get to royalty in District Seven. And there are people everywhere, none of whom are Julian's family. Do they seriously keep this many employees around just to take care of them? I'd go crazy if I was holed up in some ivory tower and wasn't allowed to do anything for myself. Maybe that's why Julian goes and whittles in the woods all the time. At least out there, he's responsible for himself.

I let him help me down from the horse's back, and I vaguely notice how clean everything is around here. Every damn blade of grass seems to be trimmed to a uniform length, all the same shade of perpetual green. I can't imagine kids ever playing on this grass, can't imagine games of tag or red rover even though I know there were seven children in this house at some point in time. Even though it's beautiful beyond anything I could've imagined, there's a weird, impersonal feeling about this place that makes me long for the warmth of my much smaller log home that sits in a tiny clearing of pines, the grass in the yard grown wild and worn to bare patches in spots from campfires and the place where my feet skidded to stop my momentum of my tire swing when I was a little girl.

“Well, if all went according to plan, my sisters are keeping Adrian and my mother occupied so we can get up to my room without being noticed before dinner.”

Our feet are crunching up the gravel drive by this point, fingers intertwined and steps in sync as the huge white manor looms ever-closer. I quirk an eyebrow, smirking at Julian sarcastically. "Your room? And what are we going to be doing in there? I didn't think you'd missed me that much. What happened to me being nothing like... what was it you called her, 'Whorebear?'"

I can't help but laugh at the look on his face, but the mirth drains from me when the front door swings open. How can one place be so... rich? Everything in the entrance hall (I guess that's what it's called, in my house you open the door and you're standing in the kitchen) is made out of some sort of precious material, marble floors, crystal doorknobs, expensive redwood banisters. An awed whisper of "Wow," escapes me and echoes around the whole place as my fingers reach out to gently touch the smooth wooden finish of a handrail attached to a sweeping staircase. How long would I have to work just to afford a single twig from this banister? Weeks? A month? My eyes flick up to the ceiling, where the light slants in from huge skylights set periodically in the roof to allow a warm yellowish glow to filter down to the white marble of the floor. "Umm... Should I take off my shoes?"

It's a stupid question since it's mostly a practice observed by District hicks like my family. You go to someone else's house, you take off your shoes. Don't want to dirty their floors. But hell, if I leave a speck of dust anywhere, five people will probably swoop in behind me to clean it up. It's amazing how this house is so huge, there's no one in sight except for Julian, and yet I still feel like I'm in a fishbowl. How does he ever get any privacy here? Maybe he doesn't.

My question about shoes forgotten, I allow Julian to pull me through the house, up staircases and down winding hallways filled with plush carpet and old paintings that are probably worth more than everything my family owns put together. I can hear the sounds of the Scott family behind some of the closed doors we pass, the drone of a television behind one, a little girl's laughter behind another, a distinctive almost-Julian baritone with the extra poison in it marking it as Adrian's voice that makes me hold my breath and hurry down the hall, another voice that somewhat reminds me of Felicity's that I shake off (after all, why would that thing be here?). Finally, after it seems we've been walking forever, Julian screeches to a halt in front of a door that's identical to all the others, turns the crystal knob and pushes it open.

His room is very like him. The colors are all dark, muted, from the deep red carpet to the deep grey of the covers on the huge bed that looks so damn comfortable compared to mine that I wonder how he managed to sleep at all at my house. It's surprisingly neat for a guy's room (hell, it's cleaner than my room, but I'm really messy), but then again, I keep forgetting there are people here who are probably paid to pick up his messes. Still, the place manages to look lived-in. There are little touches of Julian around the place, a peacoat thrown carelessly over the back of a desk chair, a small pile of books on the nightstand, various completed whittling projects stuffed into nooks and crannies, and drawings, drawings everywhere, charcoal half sketches of birds and children with dark flowing hair and someone that vaguely looks like she could be me if I were much, much prettier. This is the first place I've been in this house that feels like home, or maybe that's just because everything in here smells like pine and old spice so I can't help but feel comfortable.

I flop down on the edge of the bed (how in the name of heaven do they make mattresses this comfortable?), resting my tired legs that have been worn out after all the stair-climbing I've done in the past few minutes. The grin on my face is something I can't control, because there's just things about Julian, like that fact that there's an open compostiton notebook littered with handwritten music notes splayed open on his bedside table, that make it impossible for me to not smile. "So, what now? Presents? Bet you thought I forgot."[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

It’d be a lie to say that I was not self conscious about my room. I don’t know what a typical teenage boy’s room looked like, but it certainly didn’t look like mine. My room is cluttered with my art work. I have various whittlings—most of them are trees with brittle branches because I’m fond of irony—crammed in random places around my room. I have paintings, charcoal drawings, sketches, and blank canvases scattered about, stacked on every flat surface, and leaning against every vertical surface. My walls are layered with hundreds of abstract and unfinished graphite and charcoal drawings of birds that flew by my window, or my siblings that ran in; all half captured in a moment of time. The one that sat most prevalent among them was a charcoal drawing of the contours of Aria’s face, which I have to admit is the source of my embarrassment.


No one has been in my room outside of the servants and my family, and who cares what they think? But I care about what Aria thinks, and I have no clue how she’ll take my love for art. My entire room is dedicated to drawing, painting, and whittling. It kind of looks like I’m some creepy hermit that just sits in his room all day…Which is what I do. I have my entire work station shoved in a corner, covered an assortment of paints, pencils, paint brushes, jars, rags, blocks of wood, knives of all lengths and width, as well as many mediums of art. My carpet is paint splattered, and my walls have colorful smudges from charcoal, pastels and conte.

I look at Aria scoping out my room, and breathe a sign of relief when she just plops on my bed and asks for presents. I give her an amused smile, and cross my arms. “Look at you, going straight for the bed.” I saunter over to her and gently push her back, half climbing on the bed on top of her. I smile wickedly and place a hand on the side of her face. “Aren’t you content with me?” I pout, and then snicker. I lean forward and kiss Aria softly. “How about now?” Another light kiss. “And now?” I was trying really hard not to smile. Who knew that teasing your girlfriend was so much fun? I lean forward one last time, and this time really kiss her. When I finally pull away, we are both breathless. I give her a mischievous grin, and jump off of her.

I walk over to the little army of whittled figures that takes up one of my bookshelves. I consider them for a second, before spotting the one I want. I pluck it from the middle of the group. I keep it carefully hidden, as I move around the other figures to cover up the empty space. I turn towards Aria, and hide the figure behind my back. “Close your eyes!” I command and wait until she does so. I close the distance between us and grab one of her hands and place the whittled figure in it. It’s the same one I was working on while I was Aria’s house. It was of Czar, with his stupid tongue poking out between his droopy lips, his ears half perked, and his head tilted, in the classic Czar look of dumbness.

“Okay, open them.” I say gleefully, watching her face to see her reaction. “It’s the same on I was working on, at your house.” Then I remember that I have another present to give her. I turn around and throw open my closet door that practically hidden under layer of drawings. I disappear inside, and pick up a box and return to Aria, sitting beside her on the bed.

I look into the box; all that can be seen are ratty old towels. I tilt it so that she can see into it. I grin like I’m presenting her with a bar of gold. I wait a minute before reaching in and moving around the towels. The fattest gray kitten comes tumbling out of a blue towel. It sits there confused for a second, then yawns and tries to burrow back under the towels.

“I saved him from Adrian… My sisters found a litter of kittens in our backyard, and Adrian poisoned them.” I reach in and scratch the kitten’s head. “But not him. I was able to stop him before he killed this one.”

[Deleted]

“Look at you, going straight for the bed.”

[/b][/color]

I roll my eyes dramatically, reaching down to remove the miles-too-high heels that my mother sent me to wear with this outfit. They're absolutely killing my feet, and I don't really care about seeming low-class in front of Julian, so off they go, flying off somewhere into the artwork-covered abyss. "In your dreams, Scott. Just because I'm fresh out of two months of solitary confinement doesn't mean I'm that desperate."

I'm getting ready to laugh and then he's kissing me again, lightly and playfully at first but granting me the seriousness that I want when I scowl at him. How the hell did I go for two months without this?That horribly wonderful tightness is back in the center of my chest again, stretching more and more every second, and there's nothing to interrupt us now. I'm only able to think on very simple terms when his lips are on mine like this, little thoughts, fragmented musings that run in a distant stream of consciousness. How does his hair get so soft? I think it's softer than mine. I wonder if he drinks a lot of coffee or if he just naturally tastes that way. This is much easier now that my hip bones aren't stabbing the hell out of him. Maybe there are benefits to being fat. Is this one of my presents? I can deal with that. This is a good present. A damn great present actually. Oh, hell, I don't know what he just did but he needs to do that again.

I have to say that this mattress is certainly more comfortable than my kitchen floor, which is the last location where we ended up like this. Plus there's the fact that Julian's nose isn't broken anymore and he doesn't have two huge black eyes and a bruised face, we're not stranded in the middle of a snowstorm, and there's no Felicity to come bang on the door and ruin the moment. So, wait, why in the name of all that is good and wonderful is he getting up?!

I sit up, hair tousled, lips tingling, and face petulantly confused as a little whine of "But... But we..." leaves my mouth. He tells me to close my eyes and I grudgingly comply, arms dangling loosely at my side. When my eyes open again, I stare in wonder at the immaculately carved wooden figure, fingers tracing the tiny fissures that mark individual strands of fur along the dog's whittled torso. I'm amazed that someone with such large hands can create something so tiny and delicate, and I find myself grinning like an idiot because Julian will never cease to surprise me. "This is amazing! Thanks!"

He lets me give him a quick kiss before he's up and across the room, emerging from the closet with a rather large box. I peer inside, curious, but see only a wadded up mess of old dish towels. I'm not sure I understand why Julian would give me towels as a present, maybe it's some sort of joke. I quirk an eyebrow as he rummages around within the box, but everything else in the world is drowned out when the pudgy little kitten comes tumbling out of the expanse of fabric. It's a plump ball of grey fluff the exact same color as Julian's eyes, with a tiny pink nose and ice-blue orbs that gaze confusedly up at us before it turns around and attempts to go back under the towel from whence it came. A joyful squeal escapes from me, and I clasp my hands together excitedly. I've always loved cats.

“I saved him from Adrian… My sisters found a litter of kittens in our backyard, and Adrian poisoned them. But not him. I was able to stop him before he killed this one.”[/b][/color] Julian's voice is more affectionate than I'm used to as he pets the little cat, and I'm reminded why I like him so much. Yeah, he's a real pain in the ass sometimes, but he's got this wonderful gentle side of him that I'm probably the only human being to see. I love all the contradictions this boy embodies, how he can be fighting with me one second and kissing me the next, how the same hands can reduce my poor kitchen to splinters and wipe away my tears, the same mouth can utter biting sarcasm or the first statement of "You're beautiful" that was ever directed towards me. Julian is an adventure in and of himself, and I realize just how much I've missed that adventure over these past months.

"Oh, he's adorable!" I croon, picking the kitten up and cradling him against me. The little fluff-ball immediately snuggles down in my arms and starts purring like there's no tomorrow, rough sandpaper tongue darting out to lick at the bare skin of my wrist. I'm not surprised that he likes me. I've always had a way with animals, even wild ones. The only living creatures I can't tolerate are spiders (and Felicity), seeing as I have scars on my hand and my heart that were delivered by each of them respectively. I grin ecstatically up at Julian while I scratch the kitten behind the ears, making him purr so much that I can feel his fat little body actually vibrating in my arms. "I think I'll name him Felix. He looks like a Felix to me. Unless you were hoping for Little Julian or something."

I laugh softly as I set Felix down on Julian's pillow, where he immediately curls up into a round ball of stormy fur and seems to fall asleep, purrs transforming to snores. "He's perfect. Thank you so much," I say to Julian, unable to stop smiling because he just knows me too well and the fact that he didn't go out and get me diamonds or some other useless thing is perfect. No, instead of buying me something like any other rich kid would do for his girlfriend, he made something with his own hands, took the time to rescue little Felix from the jaws of evil itself. Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky.

"I've got one simple little request though. Just one more present I think I deserve." My affectionate smile warps its way back into a smirk as I grab the collar of his shirt and drag his lips back to mine. "Get your ass back over here and pick up where we left off." [/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

“My, my, my.” I say, hovering just out of reach of her lips. “Looks like solitary confinement made you just desperate enough.” I chuckle at the look she gives me, but I lean in and kiss her.

We were just getting into it, when I hear an intake of breath behind me and a squealed “ewwwwww!” I jerk away from Aria in surprise. Would we forever be doomed to be interrupted just as things were getting steamy? I turn and look at the girl giggling nervously in my doorway. “Hi.” Natalia says shyly and comes further in, with Czar on her heels. “I saw Marilyn in the stable. I wanted to come meet…” She trails off and her eyes travel to Aria sitting next to me, still ruffled looking from kissing, and she blushes. I grin at her and open my arms, with out hesitation to walks into them.

Out of all my siblings, Natalia looks the most like me, excluding Adrian of course. She has snow white skin, marred by splotches of blue. She is made to look even paler by her short bob of dark hair. Her eyes are the same gray-blue as mine but hers are underscored with dark bruises that never seem to fade, no matter how much sleep she gets. She looks as delicate as a pixie, and is as breakable as glass. She tripped a few months ago and broke her arm. It takes all my willpower not to squeeze her tightly and never let go.

“Did she like the cat?” She whispers into my ear. I laugh and gently push her back so that she wasn’t hiding. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” I put an arm around Aria. “Natalia, this is my girlfriend, Aria.” I look at Aria, and put my other arm around Natalia. “Aria, this is my favorite little sister, Natalia.” Natalia giggles again, and gives a little wave. “Jaybird was miserable with out you.” She snickers. I groan at the nickname, embarrassed by the story behind it. She likes to use it to mess with me. “He moped in his room for days on end. The maid had to bring his food to him.” I playfully swat at her. “She is exaggerating. That’s what I always do.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, grabbing one of Aria’s hands with both of hers; they were so small in comparison, and probably ice cold like they normally were. She was getting more and more comfortable with Aria. “Don’t let him fool you with that badass act of his.” She says the cuss word quickly and quietly, like she would get in trouble. “He actually really cares about you. He does the same thing with Czar.” She turns and looks at the black dog sitting a few feet away watching us. “He yells at Czar all the time, but then he lets him sleep in his bed—” She would have continued but I placed a hand over her mouth. My cheeks are slightly red from embarrassment, and I’m trying to look at her angrily, but failing miserably.

She licks my hand, and I pull away laughing. “Jaybird is in looooooooooooove.” She sings, wiggles out of my hold, and goes to hide on the other side of Aria.

[Deleted]

I’m taken aback by how sickly the little girl in the doorway appears. She’s definitely a Scott, with her dark hair, pale skin, and definitive stormy eyes, but she just looks so… delicate. She’s almost as skinny as I used to be, hovering on the verge of emaciated, with dark bluish-purple splotches marring the visible portions of her skin. She looks like she hasn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in months because of the heavy dark circles under her eyes, but through all of this she still manages to be a very pretty girl. What is it with this family and effortlessly good looks? I’d guess this particular one of Julian’s siblings is about ten or eleven given her small stature and wide-eyed innocence. He and Adrian are the middle children, so that means there are… three younger ones? Or is it four?

I sit up, trying to tame my now completely wild hair, smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress as the little girl walks up and wraps her arms around Julian. He introduces her to me as Natalia, which strikes me as odd. I was sure Natalia was older, thirteen or fourteen. How could someone this frail be trusted to guard my letters from Adrian and a certain supposedly terrifying mother? I shrug internally and set my confusion aside, smiling at her. ”I love the cat. His name is Felix, you can hold him if you want. He seems to love anyone who’ll pet him. By the way, I wanted to thank you for holding onto those letters for us. I’ll figure out some way to pay you back for it. If you like animals I have a fox pup that would probably adore a new playmate.”

The thought of Natalia playing with Flint makes me grin even wider. With a new cat, I’ll have to find some way to rearrange my pets’ living conditions anyway. Last time I checked, foxes and housecats didn’t get along too well. I know I could never just toss Flint back into the wild, so letting Natalia watch him until Felix gets big enough to take care of himself sounds like a good idea to me. I watch her exchange with Julian interestedly, noting how the rare gentle side of him seems to come out around his little sister. She has an airy soprano voice that always seems to sound tired, and a smile that’s slightly lopsided and incredibly heartwarming like her brother’s. “Jaybird was miserable without you. He moped in his room for days on end. The maid had to bring his food to him.”

I burst out laughing, looking amusedly at the pained expression on Julian’s face. ”First Juliebear, now Jaybird? How can one person have so many embarrassing nicknames?”

Natalia floats over to me and takes my hand in both of hers. I can’t really pay attention to what she’s saying because of the shock of how cold her skin feels against mine. That can’t be healthy. No one’s ever supposed to be that cold. She’s obviously a sickly little kid, but she just seems so weak and frail that a delicate disposition can’t be the only thing wrong with her. I try to wrack my brain to remember entries in the big medical encyclopedia at my house, the one with the dog-eared page marked Bulimia nervosa. Even though Natalia’s horribly skinny, she’s not bulimic, her voice doesn’t have the harsh edge to it that is created by an eroded esophagus. Her pale skin and numerous bruises make me think of hemophilia, that genetic disease where your blood doesn’t clot and a simple bruise or nosebleed could kill you, but that doesn’t make sense. If one Scott kid is a hemophiliac, all of them should be, since it’s an inherited disorder. And even so, hemophilia wouldn’t explain why Natalia so tiny for her age, wouldn’t justify the fatigue in her voice.

Even when she gets into a mock-fight with Julian, I note how exceedingly gentle he is with her. The pressure of the hand pressed over her mouth is so light that it wouldn’t even muffle her speech in the first place. Nevertheless, she laughs and runs behind me, utilizing me as a human shield. Taking advantage of the little girl not being able to see either of our faces, I shoot a questioning look at Julian, cocking an eyebrow curiously at him. It seems there are still mysteries about Julian (and his family) that have yet to be unraveled, and I’m not sure that I want to know some of them. Maybe I’m overreacting and Natalia really just has a sickly nature and bruises easily. But my gut feeling is telling me otherwise, and it’s not arrogance when I say that my hunches are usually right. Still, it bothers me to think that this sweet little girl who kept my letters so dutifully for the past few months might have something seriously wrong with her. I force myself to shake off the thought and smile again, not wanting to ruin today’s happiness with dreary musings.

”So, now I’ve met two of the other Scott siblings,” I say, turning around to look at Natalia and trying to ignore how much the circles under her stormy eyes that are so identical to Julian’s contrast with the pale pallor of the rest of her face. ”I have to say, I like you much better than Adrian.” I glance over her bony shoulder at the clock on Julian’s bedside table, noting with a faint stab of horror that it’s almost five o’clock. Almost time for dinner. I gulp, my smile toning down a few notches. ”So I guess you came up here to get us for dinner, right?”

[Eastern Orange]

I don’t miss the look Aria gives me, but I pretend I do. I don’t meet her eyes, refusing to look away from my little sister. It is understandable that Aria is shocked; I didn’t prepare her for this. I just… I couldn’t figure out how to mention it. ‘Oh, my sister is sick with leukemia. Don’t hug her too hard, or she’ll break.’ Yea, there wasn’t a right way to bring that up. But I should have. Well, a least Aria has the sense not to say anything, or look at Natalia like she is the harbinger of death.

At the mention of juliebear, Natalia crackled. “Oh, Juliebear. I see you’ve met Felicity.” She said her name very pompously. “I call him Jaybird because, like, six years ago he climbed a tree so he could put a baby mockingjay back in its nest. He succeeded…” She paused for effect, smiling evilly. “And than fell. He broke both of his arms.” She began to giggle. When she saw my expression, she laughed even harder.

”I have to say, I like you much better than Adrian.”

Uh oh. My eyes widen, and I give a slight shake of my head, warning her. Natalia looks at Aria with confusion and something along the lines of hurt. “What? Adrian is really nice. What happened?” I leap of the bed, and pull Aria up with me. “Well, you came to get us for dinner right?” I say changing the subject, and repeating what Aria had said. Natalia still has that confused expression on her face.

“No, that’d be me.” I spin around to face Adrian leaning against the door frame. “Nice to see you again.” He says to Aria. When Natalia sees Adrian she springs up and runs to hug him around the waist. Adrian smiles down at her, and pats her head. He looks up at me and his smile turns menacing. I clench my fists, and fight the urge to scream at him to not touch her. Natalia doesn’t know Adrian’s true character, she is blissfully unaware of the monster he is. Adrian just loves that. “Come on.” He says, and leads Natalia down the hall.

I take a deep breath and release my tensed muscles. Seeing them together always makes me angry. Natalia adores Adrian, she trusts him wholly. If she ever found out what a crazy motherfucker he was, she’d be crushed. So crushed in fact, she might give up, and no longer have the will to live. Adrian knows that; it empowers him. He could crush her spirit on a whim. I look over at Aria, letting my frustration show. “I’ll explain later.” I grunt and walk out of my room to follow my siblings to the dinning room.

The dinning room is just as overdone as the rest of my house: A chandelier hangs from the vaulted ceiling like a glittering giant, skylights let sunlight stream into the room, black and white marbled floor, marble statues in the niches, golden candelabras on the walls, a table that can seat twenty people, that is ringed in chairs that can only be described as thrones. The table was already piled high with dishes of all sorts. Was that a stuffed pig? My mother was showing off... Fucking bitch. She is probably trying to make Aria feel as uncomfortable as possible by showing how wealthy we are in comparison to her.

My family is seated at the far end of the room, seven of my siblings and my mother at the head of the table. There were two empty seats on either side of her, obviously for me and Aria. I turn and look at her. I grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. They aren’t all terrible like Adrian. Let’s just get through this.” I say quietly, but by the look on her face I know she is not reassured at all. I lean in even closer. “Throughout this entire terrible experience, just remember that I love you.” I say it so quietly that I wonder if she even heard me. I lean back, and smile warmly at her.

I make my way down the long dinning room, clutching Aria’s hand. I don’t look up, but I can feel my mother’s icy glare on us. When I make it to my seat I realize that Felicity is sitting next to one of the empty seats. I freeze and my grip tightens on Aria’s hand. I look at the other seat and see that Adrian is next to the otheron. Fuck. Leave her to seat next to the lunatic, or the whore? The whore most definitely. Aria could take Felicity, no problem. I walk over to the seat next to Felicity and pull out Aria’s chair for her. I’m pissed. Mother did this on purpose. She is trying to scare of Aria. I wait until Aria sits down, and I grab her hand. I look right into my mother’s eyes and lay a soft kiss on her hand. “My dear.” I murmur and go to sit in my seat across from her.

I sit down, and look up to look at Aria, but my vision is blocked by an overly large vase of flowers. I bite my tongue, wanting to lash out. This will all be over soon. I remind myself, and say nothing. “Well, Julian, aren’t you going to introduce us to your little…er, large friend.” I look up sharply, shocked that she had actually said that. She had some balls. Next to me Adrian chuckled. “Aria.” I hiss. “She is my girlfriend” I emphasize ‘girlfriend.’ My mother just purses her lips and looks at Aria and Felicity. “I hear you two met. Has Felicity told you that she was going to marry Julian before you so sweetly bewitched him with those, um, pretty eyes of yours?” She said it pleasantly enough, but she was mocking Aria. I grip the table cloth. I want to look at Aria, but I can’t. Fucking flowers.

I’m in no mood to eat. I look around at my other siblings. They are dutifully eating their food. They have stricken looks on their faces, ashamed at their mother’s behavior. They look at me sheepishly every now and then, but they don’t say anything. They are afraid of what mother would say to them.