Love Letters

[Deleted]

I can feel my apprehension growing the closer we get to the dining room. Julian's house seems to grow more and more ostentatious with each hallway that Adrian leads us down, finally culminating in the dining room, which is nothing short of obnoxious. I go from mild distaste to utter horror in a matter of seconds. What a setup! The two empty chairs sit on either side of a dark-haired woman who can only be Julian's mother. One of them is next to Adrian and the other... Oh my God. Oh. My. God. You have got to be shitting me. What the fuck is that thing doing here!?

Felicity gives me a sickeningly sweet smile with a truckload of poison behind it, and it's all I can do not to groan in complete despair. With dinner set up the way it is, there is going to be definite bloodshed happening. I gnaw on the inside of my lip nervously, wondering how I'm ever going to survive this, especially in my emotionally-delicate state, sensitivity flayed raw from months of intensive psychological therapy. I squeeze Julian's hand in a death grip, swallowing hard to try to get rid of the lump of dread forming in my throat.

“Throughout this entire terrible experience, just remember that I love you.”

My head snaps toward him, eyes wide. Did he really just say that? He did. And now, despite everything, how afraid and upset and livid pissed I am, there's a warm glow surrounding me that makes all of this seem a little more bearable. I am loved. Julian Scott, who I had suspected of being completely emotionless the first time I met him, has verbally confirmed that he is in love with me. I attempt to smile back, my grin a little shaky but still there. "That helps. Love you, too."

It's weird how he can act so chivalrous while he looks so entirely agitated. He's never done anything like pull out chairs for me or use sappy terms of endearment before (I swear if anything with the suffix "-bear" appears at any time, I am out of this relationship. Done.), but the sudden shift in behavior is made even more odd by the fact that he looks like he's about ready to kill something. I watch somewhat confusedly as he rounds the table and leaves my field of vision to be concealed by a gigantic centerpiece, back to biting at the inside of my cheek now that he's not here to lend me his strength. I can feel icy glares from Julian's mother and Felicity pierce me from two separate angles, judging me as I self-consciously spread my napkin over the colorful skirt of my dress. I'm not worried about a breach of etiquette, since I was smart enough to do a little research while I was in the hospital. The massive variety of silverware next to my plate doesn't intimidate me the way it would if I had walked in uninformed.

I mean, it's obvious that this whole thing has been arranged to scare me off. Overt displays of affluence, sitting me next to Felicity, the animosity in the air that's so thick you could cut it with a knife. Unfortunately for the two women on either side of me, I'm made of stronger stuff than they give me credit for. If soldiering my way through an uncomfortable dinner is all I have to do, I've got this in the bag. No pain, no gain, right?

“Well, Julian, aren’t you going to introduce us to your little…er, large friend?”

And there's the not-so-subtle jab that she thinks will reduce me into a blubbering puddle of tears because I just got out of treatment for bulimia. I fight the urge to roll my eyes, knowing that I have to at least seem pleasant and polite to make it out of this dinner alive. Really, is that all she's got? I happen to know that my BMI is perfectly balanced and my current weight is the ideal size of a girl of my age, height, and body type.

Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that, lard-ass.

I don't to a very good job hiding my sharp intake of breath, because I can literally feel Felicity smirking triumphantly next to me. The voice of me self-image had been quiet almost all day, and now was the time it picked to speak up? Wasn't that just perfect timing. I turn my focus inward, trying to make my still-piss-poor self-esteem put a sock in it, but it's too late. The seeds of doubt have already been planted, and I'm going to have to deal with the little hissing insults every time I take a bite until Julian can find some way to make me feel beautiful again.

It's amazing how pleasantly this woman can insult people. Fine, if that's how she wants to play it. My mother always told me to kill them with kindness anyway. I smile sweetly at her mention of Julian and Felicity's arranged marriage, the picture of demure innocence. "Oh, yes, I've been told. Frankly I can't believe Julian would go for someone like me when he already had Felicity. After all, she's so pretty, and sweet, and..." I can't stop the sarcastic smirk from appearing on my face when I glance at the blonde next to me and then over to Adrian, making a very obvious connection. I wonder if Julian's mother knows what these two have been up to together in their guest house lately. "Pure. Guess that just goes to show that love is blind, right, sweetheart?"

I do my best to crane my neck around the flower arrangement to get a good look at Julian, but I'm only able to catch one stormy eye and a tuft of dark hair. Still doing my best to look like the poster-child for sweet, well-mannered almost-daughter-in-laws, I sit back in my chair. I pick up my salad fork and go to take a bite of what looks to be a really delicious grilled chicken ceasar creation, but the voice breaks through my consciousness again.

Think of all the calories in that dressing. Do you really want your ass to be any bigger than it already is? God, you won't fit through doorframes anymore. I mean, go ahead, eat to your little piggy heart's content, just make sure you take care of it afterwards. C'mon, what do those "medical professionals" know, anyway? It's way easier than dieting.

I fight the urge to rip my hair out and instead content myself to make the voice shut up by taking my first bite of something that isn't a protein-based weight-gain complex in months. But the hissing insults of my consciousness are weighing on me so heavily, making me worry so much, that the salad doesn't even taste good. Really? My first bit of real food in forever, and I can't even enjoy it, on top of the fact that I'm sandwiched between a homewrecking whore and a woman who obviously hates my guts, across the table from my boyfriend's psychopathic brother, and a few chairs down from a sweet little girl with a horrible sickness that I can't identify. Fuck my life.

[Eastern Orange]

“Apparently.” Adrian snorts next to me, and I fight the urge to pick up my butter knife and stab him in the jugular. Felicity twitters like a dumb bird, and tosses her hair. My mother smirks at Adrian’s jab, and looks proud of him. “Yes Dearest.” I say haughtily. “If only love was deaf as well as blind, Felicity and I might have stood a chance.” Felicity abruptly stops her cackling and glares at me furiously. My mother’s smirk turns disapproving.

She puts her attention back on Aria, seemingly determined to break her. “Julian used to be quite taken with Felicity. He just loves petite girls. He used to say how it made him feel like such a man to be protecting such a sweet pretty thing like her. I wonder how he can feel that way with you.”

A vein in my head throbs, and I see red. This is similar to the anger I felt in Aria’s kitchen when Felicity visited. I grind my teeth and I want to look at Aria. I just want to look at her. I can’t see her. Is she okay? Does she believe that? I have to see her. I have to. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t see anything, only my anger. It’s beating me in the head.

And the world goes silent.

It’s like time has slowed and I can’t hear anything but the rush of blood in my head. I stand up slowly, calmly. I breathe in deeply, filling my lungs until they fell like they are going to burst. My head feels light. I release my breath slowly as I place my hands around the centerpiece in front of my plate. I pick it up every so gently. My breath is still hissing through my lips. I stand still and empty my lungs. I take another deep breath, and the arm that holds the vase goes behind my head. I exhale sharply, and at the same time a swing my arm forward, heaving the vase. It flies in an arch, and shatters against the wall. Water splatters everywhere and the flowers rain down.

Well. That felt good. I turn and take my seat again. Adrian is biting back maniacal laughter, but everyone else is staring at me wide-eyed, a few of my siblings are trying not to look too pleased. “Aria.” I pause. “My mother is full of shit.” I say flatly. I look at my mom and raise an eyebrow. She is always telling me that I shouldn’t bottle up my rage. How is that for anger management mother? My mom is shocked, but angry beyond all belief. I know that I’m going to pay for this somehow. I just hope that Aria doesn’t take the hit for me.

“Mother. I’ll have you know that Aria can make me feel very much like a man.” I say bluntly, smiling slyly at Aria. I toss in a wink, just for the shock factor. It works. My mother sputters, at a loss for words.

Victory.

[Deleted]

I give Adrian a glare in response to his smart-ass retort. Douche. It's a little harder to brush off Felicity's annoying laughter, but Julian shuts her up with a well-placed jab of his own. I smile serenely, taking another bite of my salad. Hell, if this is all they've got, bring it on. Other than the constant hissing voice in the back of my mind that compounds with every bite I take, I'm feeling pretty invincible. Insults are nothing. I can deal with insults any day. It's what my own mind says that's really scary.

“Julian used to be quite taken with Felicity. He just loves petite girls. He used to say how it made him feel like such a man to be protecting such a sweet pretty thing like her. I wonder how he can feel that way with you.”

Okay, the thinly-veiled fat jokes are getting a little old, even if they're not really hurting my feelings. Maybe it's time a call her bluff, let her know that I know exactly what she's trying to do. "Is that so?" I ask in a conversational tone, meeting the cold eyes of my adversary unflinchingly. "Well, maybe that's why Julian was attracted to me in the first place, seeing as I was quite a bit more petite than Felicity when we first met. Maybe being bulimic gave me a more attractive figure, but I find being curvy quite preferable to being dead, and I'm sure that Julian would rather have a full-figured girlfriend than a deceased one."

No sooner after I've finished my rebuttal, the vase that had previously been in front of me makes very loud contact with the wall. Right on cue, there's Julian with his anger issues. With a sigh, I close my eyes and press my palm over my face, wishing I could just wake up in my hospital bed and have this whole hellish nightmare be over. But when I finally open my eyes and realize that I'm (unfortunately) not just dreaming, Julian's sitting across from me, looking oddly calm for someone who just chucked a priceless face at the wall. Even more oddly, a few of the older kids are holding back amused grins, and I see a dark-haired Scott brother that looks to be a few years older than Julian and I actually give a fist-pump under the table. I decide to go ahead and like him even though I don't know his name yet. I pick up my crystal glass and take a large sip of water just to give myself something to do while I watch this whole affair play out.

“Mother. I’ll have you know that Aria can make me feel very much like a man,”

[/i][/b] Julian says loudly enough for everyone in the dining room to hear, tossing a wink and a smirk my way. Oh God. Someone kill me, please.

My face turns beet red faster than I ever would have thought possible, and it's all I can do to stop myself from doing a spit take and showering everyone in a five-foot radius with water. He didn't just say that. He did not just fucking say that. But he did, and now all I can process is that all of the Scott kids who are old enough to understand the implication are staring at us, the girls looking at me with sympathy for my embarrassment, and the boys staring at Julian with something like admiration. The same older brother that gave the victorious fist-pump quietly elbows another, lighter haired boy next to him and half whispers "I told you that's what they were doing back here so early. Twenty bucks. Pay up."

I want to curl up and die, but I have to do my best to keep moving through this like nothing's happened. I swallow my water with a heavy gulp, and it sits in my stomach like a rock. First Julian pulls this shit with Adrian at my house a few months ago, and now here he is making implications in front of his entire family. If I actually got as much action as people seem to think I do, I'd be a real flooze. Still, the ray of sunshine penetrating the cloud of embarrassment hanging over me is the high-pitched gasp from Felicity, jealousy radiating off of her in almost-visible waves. I smile triumphantly, thinking that maybe this isn't so bad. Julian's mother has been rendered speechless, so why not use this line of conversation to mess with Felicity a little bit? Payback is so sweet.

"Julian!" I gasp, sounding for all the world like a shocked, scandalized society lady as I reach across the table and playfully smack him on the arm. "That's not appropriate dinner table conversation at all." I sit back in my chair with a knowing smile and a wink that matches his. "Save it for later."

The reaction is beautiful. All color drains from Julian's mother's face, Felicity looks like she's having some type of rage-and-jealousy-induced aneurysm, Adrian's head snaps over to look at his twin in disbelief, and fist-pump brother, along with a few other Scott boys collapse into silent fits of laughter. Natalia's look of innocent confusion is enough to make me chuckle myself, looking back to Julian and smiling victoriously.

Together, we're taking our opponents by storm. I guess we're what they call a dream team. [/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

I give a snort of laughter and manage to cover it with a coughing fit. “Yes later.” I choke out, my eyes watering from my coughing fit and mirth. My mother fixes me with an icy stare and raises one side of her mouth into a snarl. “Julian, keep your bitch on a leash. There are children here.” She can’t make herself sound cordial anymore. Alec and Ander look at each other mischievously, but they stand up. They know this is going to get ugly. “Come on guys. Mommy and Julian have to air out their dirty laundry, and you guys should not witness that.” Ander says ushering the kids from the room. “But I’m not done!” My youngest sister protests as they vanish from the room.

Only my mother, Felicity, Adrian, Aria, and I remain. Bloody hell.

“Right.” Adrian says, and looks at Aria. “We hate you. Julian was supposed to marry Felicity.” He doesn’t even have the decency to sound angry, he sounds bored. Without a word and a blank expression on my face, I flip his plate of food onto his lap. Want to play nonchalant, Adrian? That’s how it is done. He jumps in surprise, and shoots me a dirty look. “I really liked these pants.” I growls, and scoops up a handful of mash potatoes and throws it at my face. It hits me with a splat. I wipe it off with one hand, and I was about to retaliate, when mother cut me off with a “Now, now boys”.

My lip curls into a sneer. “Too bad Felicity was too busy riding you all hours of the night to marry me.” I simper. Felicity emits a sound of disbelief and anger somewhere along the lines of “graahh.” My mother stares, blinks once slowly, then again. She shakes her head. Adrian is not affected at all, he smiles wickedly. “Maybe you can marry her.” I shrug.

When we were young, Adrian and I actually got along. We were best friends. We pulled all kinds of pranks together, most of them on Felicity. She was an inside joke between us. In fact, we would always play this game called ‘I’d rather…’ late in to the night in the room that we used to share. I don’t know what happened to us…Oh yea. He started fucking Felicity. I suddenly felt nostalgic, and something in my face most have tipped Adrian off, because he gives me this weird look. I don’t know what happened to us. Oh yea. He started fucking Felicity.

Adrian frowns and looks away from me, guessing what I’m thinking. We used to have silent conversations like this all the time. He looks back at me, and I can almost see remorse in his eyes. “I’d rather fuck a razor than marry Felicity.” Suddenly I’m beaming at him. “Oh yea? I’d rather give be pregnant and give birth than marry Felicity.” I counter. He’s fighting back a smile, but finally bursts out laughing.

How is this happening?

“I’d rather eat my large intestine than marry Felicity.” He says triumphantly, crossing his arms. I make a face. “Gross. I’d rather scalp myself than marry Felicity.”

Is this real life?

“I’d rather make out with Marilyn.” I snort. “I’d rather eat her shit.”

I don’t know if I can trust this. I didn’t know how much I missed liking Adrian. This is actually too much to hope for.

“That’s nothing. I’d rather marry Marilyn in a shotgun wedding, pregnant with her babies.” I shake my head. “I win. I said I’d rather be pregnant.” He swears. “Damn, I forgot.” He bursts out laughing, and I join him. We are laughing so hard that we are clutching each other.

Do I dare hope that I have my brother back?

I look at my mom. She is red going on purple she is so mad. I look over at Felicity and she is so confused and hurt, she is practically sobbing. I’m about to feel bad, but then I remember what she did to Aria, and I find that I don’t care if she is hurt.

[Deleted]

“Julian, keep your bitch on a leash. There are children here.”

"Excuse me!?"

[/i][/color] Fat jokes I can handle, but if outright name-calling is what's going down now, it's on. Fist-pump brother, who I now realize looked so familiar because he's a fucking Victor, stands up with the lighter-haired boy and they both shepherd the younger children out of the room. I'm starting to put names with faces as I watch them file out. the youngest, Sophia, then Natalia, then a girl who looks to be slightly older than Julian who must be Helena, the eldest Scott sister. The tall, dark-haired one is Ander, the firstborn that won the Hunger Games, leaving the light-haired one to be Alec, his junior by one year. All of these Scotts in one place are making my head hurt.

Everyone is out of their chairs by this point, and all is chaos, Julian making an effort to get to me, Adrian standing back and looking interestedly at the whole situation, Felicity trying to get out of my way as I spring out of my chair in my livid state, and Julian's mother at the head of the table, surveying the madness she's created. Alec quietly slips out of the room behind the other siblings, leaving Ander, who had been seated on the other side of Felicity, grinning good-naturedly at the carnage around him. I guess stuff like this doesn't phase you after you've survived the deaths of twenty-three other people. For someone who's killed before, he actually seems like a nice enough guy, joking around with his brothers and smiling frequently with that lopsided grin that seems to be an inherited trait of the family. He reaches over with a muscular arm and pats me on the shoulder before he turns to walk out. "Good luck, kid. We're all rooting for you."[/i][/color]

After Ander leaves, shit starts getting freaky. First off, there's a two sentence confrontation between Adrian and I.

“Right, we hate you, Julian was supposed to marry Felicity.”

"Fuck you, Adrian." And just like that, the conversation is over between us.

And then things really get strange, because after a miniature food fight, Adrian and Julian actually start joking with each other. What the fuck? I blink a few times, trying to make sure that I'm actually seeing this. "Felicity, am I dreaming right now?"

"I don't know, let me check," she snarls at me before pinching me really, really fucking hard.

"Ow! Bitch!"

"Fiancée-thieving whore!"

"Spoiled brat!"

"Peasant!"

She gives up on the argument after a few insults, because the Felicity-bashing game that Julian and Adrian are playing with each other is making her slowly dissolve into a puddle of petulant tears. I don't feel the least bit bad for laughing, but the fact that Julian and his brother are clutching each other in throes of laughter is enough to make me stop, because I'm throughly weirded out. Mrs. Scott has apparently been rendered speechless with rage, so nothing is said to me as I walk over to where the twins continue to cackle. I wait for them to stop before I cock an eyebrow at Adrian, hands on my hips. "Um, I was under the impression that you were a sociopathic asshole who hated his brother with a fiery passion. What the fuck just happened?"

I am so confused right now. My head is throbbing, and I really just want to go curl up somewhere and go to sleep. How did it come to this? I was just supposed to sit here for an hour or two of insults and attempts to scare me out of my relationship with Julian, and now I'm witnessing an entirely changed family dynamic. This is too unstable for me, too crazy. Is it so much to ask that my emotional homeostasis not be shot completely to hell my first day out of treatment? Apparently it is.

I round on Julian next, irritation flaring amidst my muddled swirl of emotions. "And you. If you hadn't gone and made another stupid implication about our nonexistent sex life, this whole mess wouldn't have happened!" I throw my hands up and gesture to the cluttered dining room, indicating what "this mess" is. "I was doing fine! You know I love you and I appreciate your support, but I was taking care of myself, Julian! I'm capable of doing that! You don't always have to be the knight in shining armor swooping in to save me from the bad guys. I can fight my own battles."

I am so fed up with everything. Why does nothing in my life ever work? I'm so upset right now, but I can't let the tears pooling in my eyes spill over. I've got to get out of here. Taking a deep breath, I turn around and address Julian's mother. "I am so sorry about all of this. You're right. This isn't my world, and I don't belong here."

I turn tail and leave the room as fast as possible, dashing up the hallway without having any idea where I'm going. Everything is so tumultuous right now. I need something, anything stable. Something normal, an escape that I know will always be there. I need release.

You already know what you have to do.

I nod at the hissing voice in my head, walking down the hallway with purpose and wrenching open doors until I find a bathroom, all marble and ornate fixtures. I gently shut the door behind me, rifling through my purse for a hairband. Already I can feel stability returning, a certainly of routine that I had been longing for. Pulling the golden waves back from my face in a messy ponytail, I sink down in front of the toilet and will myself to get sick. The thing is, nothing happens. It's been so long since I've purged my stomach that the automatic reflex is gone. Cringing at the grossness of it all, I force a finger into the back of my throat, activating my long-dormant gag reflex and officially relapsing not even twenty-four hours after I was released from treatment.

You always knew this would happen, 'Ria. You need this. You're weak.[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

Panic blossoms in my chest as she storms from the room. What does she mean this isn’t her world? Is she going to leave me? I’m up and following her in seconds. I don’t look at Felicity, or Adrian, or mother. I just follow Aria out of the room.

It takes me a second to find her. I should have known. She is slumped over the toilet, puking. Again. Didn’t I just pick her up from the psych ward? After being released. What the fuck. I grip the door handle, and I debate whether to just slam the door and walk away, or to flip the fuck out on her. I go with the latter. I step into the bathroom (obnoxiously big, of course) and shut the door behind me. “You call this protecting yourself?” I hiss, flinging my arm out to the vomit fill toilet. “Really, Aria? Because the last time I checked, you can die from doing this shit.” I clench my fists and I feel such unbelievable disappointment at her. She has no clue how much she has let me down.

I want to walk out now. Just walk out, and wash my hands of her. She wants to die? Fine. I got in the way once, I won't do it again. But I don’t walk out that door. I have a motherfucking goddamn point to prove.

I turn, and punch the tiled wall. Under my fist, the tile splinters with an audible crack. I look at her. “Did you enjoy that? Did you enjoy watching me hurt myself?” I spit at her, nothing but venom in my voice. I don’t even feel the pain. I punch the wall again, and this time I break the skin, leaving a smear of blood on the tile. “Not enough?” I walk calmly over to the mirror, and fling my now broken hand into that too. The mirror shatters with a mournful song, and a hundred pieces fall to the floor. I felt pain that time. Glass shards are embedded in my flesh, and jagged pain shoots up my arm. “Are you happy yet? Did I hurt myself enough for you? But wait, there is no danger of me dying from a broken hand, is there?” I kneel down and pick up a particularly jagged piece of glass. This is the real reason I wanted the mirror broken.

I hold the glass to my wrist. “Would this make you happy? If I started to cut myself, just feel something?” I place the tip on the skin beneath my hand, pushing it down hard. A bead of blood appears and drips down my arm. “No? Not risky enough?” I bring the shard to my neck. “How about now?” I say, my voice dark and twisted and cruel. I bare my teeth, and I make a swift motion, liking I’m cutting my neck open, but the shard is not touching my skin. I toss it away in disgust. It clatters on the floor and skids towards Aria. “What’s wrong? You like to flirt with death don’t you? I mean, you’re obviously a masochist or something, right?”

I slump against the wall, defeated. I bring my broken hand over my eyes. It’s shaking so hard that it is splattering drops of blood everywhere. “I hate you.” I say brokenly. “You are throwing your life away. Wasting such a precious gift, when not everyone is so lucky—” I break off and take a shaky breath. When I speak again, my voice thick with unshed tears. “Natalia isn’t.”

And now my entire body is shaking. Whenever I think of my little sister, slowly dying from an incurable disease, my heart just stops. She doesn’t get a choice. She doesn’t have the option to be careless with her life like Aria has. Natalia will be lucky if she lives to see her next birthday. Aria has not clue what the fuck she is just throwing away.

“Natalia has Leukemia. The doctors give her six months.” I say flatly, my hand still covering my eyes so that Aria doesn’t see the tears threatening to fall. “You have fucking bulimia. Treatable. Treated. You got sent to the hospital, and came back healthy. Natalia got sent to the hospital and came back worse.” One tear escapes. “Do you know why she is not in a hospital now?” Another tear. “There is no hope for her.” A sob. I remove my mangled hand from my eyes, and glower at her. “Get the fuck over yourself or get out of my house.” I walk out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I make it to my room before I really breakdown.

[/blockquote]
[/size][/justify]

[Deleted]

Of course, with the way my luck's been going today, it's only natural that Julian would walk into the bathroom just as I'm reaching up to pull the flush lever. It also goes without saying that he proceeds to throw an absolute fit. I've never seen him this angry before, but I'm fairly certain that it's this level of rage that destroyed my kitchen. Within a minute of furious shouting, he's broken the wall tiles, the mirror, his hand, and my heart. Under normal circumstances, this would escalate into a screaming match that would shake the mansion's high-vaulted ceilings. However, I am numb, so I can only sit here and watch mutely as he screams at me about how I'm throwing my life away. Even though he must be horribly loud, it all seems quiet. I'm removed from the situation, only half-here, listening to everything in that hard-to-process way you hear when you're wearing earmuffs.

“I hate you. You are throwing your life away. Wasting such a precious gift, when not everyone is so lucky."

It's the first cutting remark that actually makes me hurt inside, cutting through my numb, protective fog like the razor-sharp shards of polished glass that litter the floor in a beautifully disfigured mosaic. The pain is roughly comparable to what I felt when Felicity had made me believe that she and Julian were engaged, the old raw hole in my heard rending itself wide open again, ripping me apart at the seams. It actually might be worse. He hates me? This isn't right, this can't be happening. He was holding me and telling me that he loved me less than an hour ago. This is wrong. We're breaking. And it's my fault, all my fault.

It's always my fault.

I can't even cry, no matter how much I want to. The world takes on a muffled, underwater quality, and I can't understand what's going on. Natalia? Leukemia? Dying? What does all of this mean? I'm huddled on the cold marble of the floor and staring wordlessly at the carnage I've created, the splintered mirror, the scarlet streak across the too-white tile. Julian's tears. My mind numbly informs me that this is the first time I've ever seen him cry. Again, my fault, all my fault. I only snap back into reality when he delivers his final ultimatum. "Get the fuck over yourself or get out of my house."

He's quiet when he says it, so quiet that he's almost whispering, voice cracking with tears that he's trying to hold back. I earn a final look of disgust before he turns on his heel and leaves the room silently, the quiet only punctuated by a slamming door. My half-active mind continues to deliver cold, hard facts to me, devoid of emotion because there's already too much pain for me to deal with. Julian hates you. You've screwed up for the last time, and Julian is done with you. Julian just broke up with you. You are alone.

So this is it? It's over, and it was all so quiet. This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

I don't know what makes me get up and follow him. After all, it's pretty obvious to me that we're done. Julian wants nothing more to do with me, but I still force myself to my feet after staring blankly into space for a few minutes. Leaving the bathroom in a shambles, I set off down the hallway even though I have no idea how to find his room. It's only by accident that I spot the first blood splatter in the creme carpet, and so I end up playing a macabre game of Hansel and Gretel, following the scarlet splotches down winding hallways and up several staircases.

"Hey, kiddo. Looking for Julian? I think he's in his room, stormed by looking pissed as hell a few minutes ago,"

[/i][/color] Ander's deep bass timbre makes me jump as he pokes his head out the door of what appears to be some sort of study. "Did things go to shit downstairs? Anyway, his room's at the end of this hallway, then take a right. It's the first door on your left."

"Yeah, I guess you can say things pretty much went to shit. Thanks, Ander," I force myself to speak, the sadness in my voice making me cringe a little. Julian's brother seems to notice it as well, because he brings his massive, muscular frame out into the hallway and pats me on the shoulder again, like he did back in the dining room. "Don't sweat it, kid. We're all on your side, except for Adrian, who you already know is a crazy little prick. But as for the rest of us, it's been a long time since we've seen Julian this happy. If you're what he wants, then we're all fine with it. He really cares about you."[/i][/color]

"Um, thanks." My response is little more than a humiliated whisper as I duck my head and scurry off up the hall. Ander has unknowingly rubbed salt in my emotional wounds in the worst way possible. I make Julian happy? Ha. Sure, that's why he's running around the house with a bloody hand after dumping me like a piece of garbage. I shuffle around the corner, staring blankly at the dark, polished wood of Julian's bedroom door. There's no point in knocking, he won't answer me anyway, so I just gently turn the crystal knob and poke my head in, seeing him slumped on his bed, looking more defeated that I've ever seen him.

I slip quietly into the room, gingerly shutting the door behind me. If Julian notices or gives a shit about my presence, he doesn't show it. Not saying anything, I walk over to the bed and sit down next to him, digging around in my purse for the first aid kit my father forces me to carry around. Gently popping the white plastic lid, I pull out a roll of gauze and some medical tape. His injured hand is horribly cold against mine when I lift it from the bedspread, delicately removing any mirror shards from the lacerations and setting them down on the bedside table where they glitter crimson in the half-light of the setting sun slanting through the window. Still silent, I wrap the bandage tightly around the injury, the horrible irony stabbing at me with a white-hot blade. We've come full circle. Julian and I, two broken individuals who are so emotionally distant from one another that the expanse of space seems unable to be crossed. Here we are again, separate and alone, him with a bleeding hand and me bandaging it up for no apparent reason. I wonder if he hates me as much now as he did on that first day. Probably more.

I gently place a sticky piece of medical tape on the bandage to hold it in place, finally forcing myself to make eye contact with Julian. It's agonizing, looking into those stormy eyes that no longer hold any love for me, only cold surveillance as I slide my first aid kit back into my purse. "You said you wouldn't leave me. Remember? We promised each other. What are we supposed to do now, pretend none of that ever happened? Because I can't do that, Julian, I can't. What I did a few minutes ago... it was stupid. It was a moment of weakness and it won't happen again. I don't want to throw my life away. I want to live, but life isn't worth it if I don't have you. I know that's stupid and corny, but it's true. And I'm so, so sorry. Just please... don't do this."

I can't stop a few tears from leaking out of my eyes, dripping in warm salty drops onto the place where my hand covers his bandaged one. I don't even know why I'm trying, because I'm certain in a few seconds he's going to yell at me to get out of his life, but I had to give it one last shot.

He means to much to me to not at least try.[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

My mind is currently in some dark place where Natalia is dead and Aria is dead. And Natalia is sick. She is sick, and throwing up. And Aria, she is sick and she is throwing up. Natalia is sick from chemo, and Aria is sick from her thoughts. They are both sick, and they are both pale, and they are both skeletal, and they are both dead. Dead.

The door opens and Aria is standing there. Not sick. Not skeletal. Not dead. Not yet anyway.

Aria sits next to me in the bed, and I make no move to indicate that I even notice her presence. She takes my hand in hers and starts cleaning out the debris. I am transported back to a place and time where this shit hadn’t happened yet. When Aria was just that bitch in the woods. That bitch in the woods that bandaged my hand even after I had been a petulant brat. That bitch in the woods that brought me home with her because I would have been stranded in a snow storm. That bitch in the woods that fed me, and clothed me, and put up with me, for a full week. I would be dead, if not for the bitch in the woods.

Maybe now it’s time to return the favor?

I stare mutely at my mangled hand. I really got to get a handle on this anger thing. In hindsight, punching the wall twice wasn’t such a good idea. And the mirror. And pretending to cut my throat open. That may have been a bit much. I’m not sorry I did it, though. I did what I had to, to wake Aria the fuck up from that little world she was living in.

The gore on my hand vanishes behind pristine white bandages. It’s like it never happened. Yes, just sweep it under the rug, rewind the clock. We are just getting back from the psych ward. I still need to give her my presents. I’m thinking to myself that maybe we shouldn’t go down to dinner; I’m thinking we should use the servant’s staircase and escape. This never happened.

But it did. And I can’t over look it. What if she does it again? How many ‘moments of weakness’ will there be?

I pull my hand from her grip and stand up, placing my back to her. “Don’t do what?” I snarl. I have calmed down a bit, now that I’m over the initial shock of finding Aria puking hours after picking her up from the psych ward. But that doesn’t mean I’m not fucking angry with her. “Freak out that you’re killing yourself again?”

I turn around so I face her. “You are so dumb sometimes, Aria. I—” I stop, and shake my head. I start again, my voice just a low growl “You can’t start doing that shit to yourself again, and not expect me to get angry.” I give a frustrated sigh as she looks at me like I’ve crushed her heart. “I never said I’d leave you. You were the one you said you don’t belong here. And then you went and made yourself throw up.” I can’t stop myself from yelling the last sentence. “What about what you said to me? You told me that you’d get better. You said you’d live for me.”

[Deleted]

I’m back in my weird, staring numbness as Julian gets up and continues (although exponentially calmer) with his tirade. But the longer he goes on, especially when he says something about me being stupid, my temper flares against my will. We’re both hurt and angry now, which is never a good combination. Eyes narrowing, I push myself to my feet and walk around Julian so his back is no longer turned to me. “Really? You didn’t say anything? Pardon me for thinking ‘I hate you’ counted as ‘saying something.’”

I growl in frustration, hands tangling themselves in my hair. My irritation with Julian makes the fact that I’m subconsciously mimicking his habits simultaneously comical and infuriating. However, I force myself to take a deep breath, shutting my eyes and rubbing circles on my temples with a few fingers. I know I’ve got to be the calm one in this situation, because Julian sure as hell isn’t going to be. If the two of us try to have a discussion when we’re this angry, all we’re going to end up doing is having an explosive argument that’s only going to serve to make us both even more irritated. Still incensed, I stomp back over to the bed and sit down with a huff, propping my elbows on my knees and cradling my aching head in my hands. It’s been over a month since I’ve had a tension headache like this, and I’d forgotten how disoriented the damn things make me. My heartbeat throbs in my temples, the stabbing pain compounding with every pulse until I can barely even think through the fog of agony.

“I know what I said,” my voice echoes flatly from somewhere far, far away. “I meant what I said. I said I’d live, and I will. I messed up, I apologized, and I said it won’t happen again. What the hell more do you want from me?”

My eyes are focused dully on the carpet of Julian’s room for a long time, the pain in my head keeping up a dull roar in the background. The headaches used to be worse, much worse, especially right after I got into treatment. The horrible pain came coupled with hideously agonizing muscle cramps and shakes brought on by my body attempting to reject the nutrients being pumped into it through the feeding tube, denied its desire to purge because there was nothing actually in my stomach, only raw protein being pumped into my system. It was in these awful days that I’d told the doctors to not let Julian into the hospital, that he couldn’t see me like that. It would have been too painful for both of us, him watching me fight my own body for survival, and me having to see the hurt in his eyes when he couldn’t do anything to help. It was just better to keep him out of the situation.

I’ve always been like that. Pushing people away for their own protection, wanting to shoulder the weight of the world on my own so I don’t have to watch the ones I love get hurt. But I end up hurting people anyway, that’s always how it happens. I pushed my parents away from my issues, and it only hurt them more when I was forced to confess that I had been secretly throwing up my food for two years. I pushed the few friends I had away when I went into treatment (Dignity and I haven’t talked in weeks), and it only hurt them because they lost me even though I hadn’t actually died. And Julian. I’ve hurt Julian, the last person in the world I’d ever want to feel pain on my account, and the guilt nearly kills me. I haven’t told him what’s been going on in my head. He doesn’t know about the voice, the little hissing embodiment of doubt, and now I’m hurting him because that voice that is not mine is what’s making the words flow from my mouth.

“Who are we kidding, Julian?” I chuckle without humor, gazing up from the floor to look at him through the hazy fog of the pain in my head. “Did we honestly think we could pull off this Cinderella story without a hitch? One of the pampered Scott princes riding off into the sunset with some poor, nameless girl from the District? We’ve been hopelessly naïve.”

I look around the bedroom, realizing my whole house could probably fit inside. I feel so out of place here, so far from my element. Unwanted. How can someone like me possibly fit in here? “This whole thing with the two of us has been destined to fail from the get-go. It was only a matter of time, so why did we even bother?”

I don’t know why I’m saying these things, voicing these doubts that have been circling around as vague shadows in the back of my mind for months. It’s hurtful, brutal honesty, especially delivered in the flat, emotionless monotone that is all I am capable of making my throat produce. Maybe it’s all in my mind, but I think I can see Julian actually flinching with every sentence. He knows I’m right. And as much as I want to stop the deathblow from coming, it flows past my lips in an undeniable deadpan that I will never, ever be able to take back.

“You should have just left with Felicity that day. She’s who you’re supposed to be with, and who are we to deny fate?”

With that, my numbness dissolves, letting the pain finally hit me. The ragged, burning hole in my heart combines with the agony in my head, finally taking me past the point where I can handle it anymore. I lay down on the bed facing away from Julian, curling up into a ball in an effort to lessen the horrible feeling that I’m being ripped apart. For some reason, I still can’t cry. Even worse, I know I’m stuck here. It’s too late for me to walk home, especially through the thick woods in the dark. I’m going to have to stick it out until morning and then leave, do my best to not look back.

For the first time ever, I find myself wishing that I had never met Julian Scott.

[Eastern Orange]

I don’t let myself feel the hurt or the pain that Aria’s words are supposed induce. No, I’m saving those for later; feelings such as those do nothing for me in situations such as this. I need more violent feelings to get me through this fight alive. If I were to let her words really sink in, I would be reduced to little more than a sniveling toddler. So I only focus on the extreme sense of betrayal.

“Pampered prince?” I snarl, totally caught off guard by that description of myself. “Is that what I am to you; some pompous, unconcerned brat? When have I ever come off that way, Aria?” I can’t even comprehend what the fuck she is talking about. “You know nothing about me,” I jab and accusatory finger at her. “If you think that this is all who I am.” I gesture to encompass the grandeur of our surroundings. “Of course this wouldn’t work if that is all you saw when you looked at me.” My face twisted into disgust. “Pampered prince, bah!”

My life has been anything but pampered. I’ve had to walk on eggshells from the moment I was born. ‘Don’t disappoint your father, Julian. Don’t make us look bad, Julian. We have a reputation to uphold, Julian. Julian, why can’t you be like your siblings? Julian, you can’t be an artist, that is not a respectable job. Why are you such a failure, Julian? Julian, you’re wrong. At least I got Adrian, so that pregnancy wasn’t a complete waste.’” I mimic my mothers cold-hearted bitch voice perfectly. Aria has no fucking clue what kind of hell I was raised in, and I believe I have told her that before, which is why that little comment made me so fucking mad. “I am more then just my family’s money.” I say with contempt, my fists clenched so tight that they are white.

There is a moment where I can’t even speak I’m so angry and put of by Aria. I just stand and glower at her, wondering how the hell this fight has even escalated this far. I know right at this second that I’m going to say something I regret. I know it, but I’m not in the mood to stop it.

“Is that how you felt this entire time?” I continue quieter, not from lack of anger, because trust me, I won’t be running low anytime soon, but because this calls for a more darker, more contained anger, and not the explosive anger I have been unleashing on her. “You take one look at both of our backgrounds and say, ‘uuuum, yep. Not gonna work’? If you have some magical ability to see into the future, then you’re right, why did we bother?” I shake my head, my lip curling up in a look of disgust. “But you don’t. You are just making fanciful excuses to make yourself feel better for not trying when things get hard. You just don’t want to admit that you are giving up.”

What is with her? Everything was going fine, until she freaked the fuck out at dinner. I don’t even know what I did. So I shared a moment with my brother? It’s not like we were laughing at her expense, we were making fun of Felicity. And then she made the entire situation worse by fucking throwing up. Is that going to be her solution to everything?

This is all her fault.

“You’re weak, Aria.” I should have stopped with the ‘giving up’ thing, but I find that I can’t. I still had shit to get off my chest. “You have no grace under pressure. You only see two solutions: throw up, or run away.” Okay, I’m getting kind of mean… “Look you’re doing it now! You won’t even face me!” I shake my head in disbelief. “You are pushing me away under the guise of ‘it isn’t our destiny.’ That’s a thinly veiled retreat, if you ask me. Why can’t you just let me love you?” I don’t even know why I’m bothering. If this is how she treats our relationship, then frankly we shouldn't even have one.

Why did I ever trust Aria? Oh, I know, I actually thought she meant it when she confessed that she liked me. Apparently she has been lying to my face this entire time, because she has supposedly known from the get go that this wasn’t going to work. I wish she had let me in on that little tidbit of information before I had become so emotionally invested.

[Deleted]

"I'm weak?! I'm weak? You have no fucking clue!"

[/b] I'm up off the bed and facing off with him in a millisecond, the flush spreading across my cheeks like wildfire. Yes, I am weak, it's what I've been telling myself this whole time, but hearing it from someone other than myself has sparked a fury I didn't think I was capable of. "Who was it that fought tooth and nail for a solid month just to survive?! Who was it that sat there in isolation with a feeding tube jammed down her throat?! Who sat through day after day after fucking day of useless therapy with know-nothing shrinks trying to psychoanalyze her past the point of what she was actually feeling?! Who is it that has to put up with this stupid voice in her head telling her things that she knows aren't true but can't help believing them anyway?! ME! Not you, Julian, me! I am not weak! You'd be a fucking mess too if you had to put up with this shit!"

I'm all-out screeching at him by this point, furious tears rolling down my cheeks in hot-salty tracks. I've never had a meltdown like this, but damn, it feels good. It's a huge wave of relief to be hurling all my issues on someone else instead of keeping them tightly locked up inside of me, and now I realize exactly why Julian flips out on me all the time. Because it's release, it's release that I can get without throwing up, and it feels positively wonderful.

"And who do you think I did it for?! It sure as hell wasn't for my own benefit, no. I sat through two months of hell, and I did it for you! Because for some ridiculous reason, you wanted me around, so I sat in that fucking hospital and fought for my life, and I did it for you!"

After that outburst, I realize that I'm saying things that contradict each other. There's the voice in my head, the hurtful one, clashing with the feelings of love and trust and admiration I've had for Julian all this time. Do I really think he's a spoiled brat? I used to, just on that first day, but I certainly don't now. And I sure as hell don't think he belongs with Felicity instead of me. Why would I say something like that?

Because she's better for him than you are, 'Ria. You're nothing. You're not good enough for his world.

There it is again! I'm starting to get frightened by what's going on in my own head. I thought bulimia was an easily curable psychological problem, but this, the voice, it's very persistent. And very persuasive. I find myself believing the little hissing words inside my head before I stop myself, clenching my fists to bring me back to reality. There is something weird going on in my mind, and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with bulimia.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Julian. Not like the others." I'm playing off of what the voice is whispering to me, All you'll do is break his heart. He doesn't need you. You're a danger to his emotional stability. You're a fucking psycho, just like his brother. You'll only hurt him. Fighting the urge to clamp my hands over my ears because I know that won't make it stop and I'll only look more insane, all I really want is for him to hold me, but I know that it's not going to happen. "Every time, every fucking time I let someone into my life, I hurt them. They try to have something with me and they only end up getting burned, because I'm fucking toxic. You have no idea how much heartache and misery I'm going to end up putting into your life."

The anger's gone now, replaced by a bottomless sadness that makes me feel like my body is made of lead. I'm like a limp rag doll now, all the fight has gone out of me, and I slump back down to the bed, unable to hold myself up any longer. By this point I'm crying so hard from the last vestiges of my anger and the pain from the chunk of my heart that's been ripped out that my breath is coming in sharp little gasps, tears dripping off of my chin and darkening the brightly-colored fabric of my dress. I'm so tired of hurting people. I'm absolutely fucking sick of screwing over the people in my life who care about me. And I swear, I can't do that to Julian ever again. Because it will literally kill me, I won't be able to live with myself. So no matter how much it hurts me, I have to protect his heart, because mine's been broken for a while.

"I love you. So much that you can't possibly comprehend it. But you deserve so much better. You deserve someone who doesn't have as much crazy and as much baggage as I do. Someone to take care of you, not someone you have to watch like a hawk to make sure she isn't going off the deep end. I don't understand why you stayed with me. I'm no good for you, Julian. I'm no good for anyone. You're only going to get hurt."

I'm so confused. If Julian deserves someone better than me, why does the thought of him leaving me make me so terrified? If being with me will only hurt him, why do I want him to stay? Why am I clinging so desperately to his presence in my life if what's best for him is for me to let him go? Why can't I just end it? Why do I need him so much?

Because you're a selfish, self-absorbed little bitch, 'Ria. You think you're so noble, and you're no better than Felicity when everything's said and done. All you care about is yourself.

I want to cry even harder, because the voice is right. It's always right. I'm a horrible person. I bring a hand up to my head again, shaking it numbly. "God, what am I saying? I keep contradicting myself." Looking up at Julian almost plaintively, I let my hands fall limply back into my lap. "Can you just give me a minute? My head really hurts and I'm not thinking intelligently right now. We won't get anywhere if I'm not making sense like this."

'Ria, you never make sense. That's because you're crazy. I wouldn't be talking to you if you were sane.

What is wrong with me? [/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Eastern Orange]

Okay now this is just getting ridiculous. I feel my temper flare again. I had been calming down for most of her speech, but then she just had to go and say that. Really Aria? Really? Do you want me to stay mad forever? I’m thinking yes. Well guess what? Mission accomplished.

“Aria stop it.” I snap, bearing down on her. “What gives you the right to talk about yourself that way? By what standards are you measuring yourself? Because in my book, you are a fucking gorgeous person inside and out.” I’m thinking this would be better delivered in a cushion of a soft voice and hug, but then she wouldn’t hear it. She would think it was alright to continue this self administered abuse, and it just fucking isn’t. I’m sick of it. “I deserve better?” I repeat harshly. “And, what? I don’t get a say in this? I don’t get to decide who is and who isn’t good for me? Who makes me happy? What if you make me happy, Aria? What if I said anybody but you would absolutely kill me? Would that put in end to this ‘I’m unworthy’ crap? Because, I swear to fucking God, if I hear that again, I’m going to burn this fucking house down, so I’m a penniless pauper, and you are the rich one in the relationship.”

I glare down at her, my face etched in anger. I’m breathing pretty heavily; all this yelling and high level emotion is taking its toll on me. My head is throbbing, and my heart is pounding in my ears. But I refuse to relent until she concedes to the fact that maybe, just maybe, she is a wonderful human being, and she starts treating herself as such.

“I can’t believe you can sit there, and say that you don’t deserve me.” I shake my head. “I don’t know where got the impression that I’m in some dire need for protection. What is it with you? First I’m a pampered prince, and now I need someone to look after me.” That sure is getting old. “And as for ‘baggage,’ are you blind? Are you blind and deaf? I think so. Because apparently you didn’t see my homicidal brother, or my dying sister, or my bitchtastic mother, or my crazy nonfiancée, and you obviously didn’t hear me when I said I had a terrible childhood. Oh, let’s not forget my superiority complex, and my daddy issues. Don’t talk to me about baggage Aria, because the issues I have could fill this house.” I snort, waving away her concern. I don’t know how she could look at me and my family and think that I don’t have any baggage.

“I am a grown fucking man, Aria, and believe it or not, I have been one for awhile. I’ve pretty much had to take care of myself for my entire life, I think I can handle choosing who I love.” I continue, softer than before. I sigh and flop down next to her on the bed. I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “And who I love, is a girl who refuses to see how beautiful she is, or how talented, or how loving, or smart.” I reach up and brush her hair behind her ears, and tilt her tear-stained face toward mine, so I can look her in the eyes. I brush her tears away with my thumb. “You know what hurts me?” I ask softly. “When my girlfriend says she isn't worthy of me. Do you have any idea how much of a jerk I feel like when you say that? You have to stop being so critical of yourself.”

[Deleted]

For some reason, everything shifts a little closer to normalcy when Julian sits beside me and brushes my tousled hair out of my face, wiping away the tears on my cheeks with hands that are exceedingly gentle in comparison to the flinty edge that still lingers in his voice. He’s still upset, and I’m still frantic and confused, but I know now that the worst part of the argument is over. Exhaling shakily, I lean forward and rest my forehead against his, my hand blindly seeking out his uninjured one and twining our fingers together. ”I’m sorry. About everything. I don’t want us to fight.”

I’m so relieved that everything’s wound down and we’re not screaming at each other anymore that nothing else matters. Not that hideous debacle of a dinner, not the fact that Felicity is lurking around this house somewhere, out for my blood, not the destroyed bathroom that Julian and I have left in our wake, and certainly not the fact that there is a muffled ruckus that sounds directly outside Julian’s door, and I can just barely make out the words.

”Told you she’d apologize first! Twenty bucks, fork it over!”

“Alec, you idiot! Shut up! You want them to hear us?”

I can’t help but let out a snort of laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. Alec and Ander, it seems, bet on everything. Getting up from the bed, I turn back to Julian and make a silent shushing gesture, holding a single finger up to my lips. Padding quietly over the plush carpet, I dart out a hand quickly and turn the doorknob, positively cackling with long-overdue mirth as Alec and Ander topple comically to the floor after the door they had been leaning on was removed from under them. The dark-haired Victor and his younger brother grin up at me sheepishly as I stand tapping my foot with my arms crossed in mock irritation. The smile on my face betrays my true emotions though, and the three of us are barely concealing laughter. ”All right, boys, show’s over. Clear out.”

Grumbling halfheartedly, Julian’s brothers sulk off down the hall. Shaking my head, I close the door quietly before crossing back to the bed and adopting my former position of leaning against Julian and weaving my fingers through his. I plant a kiss on his shoulder, giving his hand a squeeze. ”Do you always have this complete lack of privacy?”

All the commotion has woken Felix, who sleepily pokes his fluffy gray head out from between two of Julian’s pillows and toddles his way over to curl up in my lap. Gently patting him with my free hand, I can’t help but smile as my little cat purrs and shuts his eyes contentedly, nuzzling against my hand. It’s good to be loved. He’s curled up on my lap and asleep again within minutes, fat little tummy moving evenly up and down. My eyes dart back to Julian, who still seems sulky and irritated, and I momentarily abandon the plump kitten in my lap in order to focus on him. The still-fading light from the window paints everything in the room with the pinkish hue that comes with late sunset, casting Julian’s sharp features into shadowed relief, stormy eyes fixed on something far-off that he’s keeping locked away from me in the safety of his mind. It’s times like this, when I’ll catch him deep in thought or in a rare moment of gentleness that I’m completely stricken by how gorgeous he manages to be without even trying. How the hell can one person be so effortlessly beautiful in the aftermath of a gigantic fight? I’m red-faced and my hair’s a mess and there are dried streaks of tears criss-crossing my cheeks, and here he is looking like he just stepped out of some Capitol magazine. I heard someone say once that all beauty is subjective, so maybe Julian’s just this fucking gorgeous because he’s mine. For the first time, I think that maybe this is how I look to him, beautiful even when I’m not at my best, just because of the sole fact that I’m his.

It’s the first time I’ve ever even considered myself to be beautiful in someone else’s eyes, much less my own. The voice in the back of my head howls in disgust and tells me how wrong I am, but for once I work up the inner strength to squash it down to the point I can’t hear the hissing tendrils of doubt spiraling through my mind. If Julian thinks I am beautiful, that’s all that matters. I don’t have to answer to anyone else but him and my own conscience. Not his mother, not his family and definitely not stuck-up little snobs like Felicity who will look down on me no matter what I do. The realization hits me like a brick that I’ve been holding myself to the wrong standards for my entire life. I was so worried about fitting in with people who didn’t even matter, when all along everything I ever needed is right here in front of me. If Julian is okay with who I am and I’m okay with who I am, everyone else can fuck off. The fact is so enthralling that I almost laugh with joy at this freedom I’ve never felt before.

”Julian?”

I watch him tentatively for a moment, waiting for him to come back from that far-away place he seems to be in. When he finally rewards me with recognition, I find myself gently reaching up and tilting his face towards mine, giving him a feather-light kiss that solidifies my assurance that everything is going to be fine, I can deal with anything, including the turmoil in my own mind, just as long as I’ve got him with me. Smiling, I run my fingers through his hair before grabbing his hand again. ”I love you, you know that, right? Even though I do stupid, self-destructive stuff and I don’t ever think about the consequences of my actions and, yeah, sometimes I’m a little self-absorbed. But I love you. More than anything. Don’t ever doubt that.”

[Eastern Orange]

"How can I not doubt it when you are saying stupid things like I belong with Felicity." I snort, but there is no bite to it. Even though I am still tremendously angry at her for all the shit she just said and pulled, I really don't want to fight anymore. We can always talk about this again later. Preferably when we are alone, and not in my house filled with children and my evil mother.

I sigh heavily and fall backwards on the bed. I stare up at my faraway ceiling, but I don't really see it. This whole day seems like a dream. Was it really only a couple of hours ago that I picked up Aria? Has it really been two months since I had last seen her? This day was suppose to be a happy reunion. Well. I guess that was a foolish dream. What did I expect? It was a dinner with my mother. The fucking queen of bitches. Not to mention Felicity was here. It was always going to turn out this way. I really shouldn't be surprised. Though, I never would have thought that Aria would relapse so fast. That was a little disappointing. Apparently, Aria isn't as strong of a girl as I thought. Well, she did just get out of a psych ward, so her mind probably wasn't in the best of shape. This was poor planning on my part.

I close my eyes, and my body feels heavy. I feel drained now that my violent emotions are no longer charging me up. I've never felt so...emotional before. This relationship thing is new to me. Hell, this feeling thing is new. I have never really felt anything beyond maybe hunger for the past 17 years. I'm not used to this at all. I don't understand why I felt so strongly when Aria relapsed or when Aria said those things. I felt as if I had been thrown into a wood chipper.

"Aria, I love you too. Please, just believe me when I say that you are the most beautiful person to me. Whenever you feel like you can't stand up against my mother or Felicity, or anyone, just remember I love you, and that's all that matters." I lift my head up and look at her, squeezing the hand that I am still holding. I grin sheepishly. "Wait until you meet my father and older sister."

ooc: OMeffingG. That was a terrible post, but its the best I can do. :/ That's the end of the thread!