Silveя Liиiиg [Sunny]

[semper]

It’s starting to get to be too much for me to handle. Klaus hasn’t been the same ever since he returned, but that’s expected. No one can go thought that and be the same.

He slashed down his own friends in order to come back to us, but something’s missing in his eyes. The warm light that was once there is now gone, his smile’s lost its easiness, and it’s almost like he’s dead on the inside.

[/color] Part of him is still trapped on those sandy shores, unable to wash off in the salty water all the blood of his friends. I know it bogs him down – it takes so much more now to make him happy, and when he is it usually doesn’t last long. I can’t find that boy I loved anymore.[/color] That brown-haired boy is still the same kid I read stories to, stayed up until he fell asleep, held his hand at his first reaping – but he’s not Klaus. He’s not my Klaus.

But when was he ever mine to begin with?[/color]

He doesn’t know and he doesn’t understand. He never will.[/color] Klaus doesn’t need me anymore; he’s so much stronger now, so much bolder, so much more independent. There’s no room for me in his new lifestyle and that hurts me. I haven’t told him to what extent I love him.[/color] He knows I love him but he’s oblivious to how much I lust over him. How can I tell him?[/color] I can’t, I won’t. Everything I’ve ever done with him will be tainted with something I won’t ever be able to recover from. How can you redeem yourself in polluted memories? You can’t.[/color]

It’s a fairly chilly evening so I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket, ducking my head lower into the collar to block out the cold breeze. Ever since I built up a good heat tolerance in the steel factory, I’ve never been much of a person to bear the cold. It’s only the beginning of fall and already I’m just about frozen solid, pulling the jacket tighter around my body as I round the corner to a damp alley.

Where is this guy?[/color] I stop halfway down the alley, my green eyes scanning the nasty, dingy area. People I’d talked to had told me that this boy was trustworthy and never shortchanged anyone. I don’t care too much about being shortchanged. I just want to feel better.[/color] My feet shift and turn around, scraping my shoes against the grimy ground as I wait.



((I’m really bad at starter posts but yayayayayaayy xD ))

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[cass]

tiberius haze.

And now it's left me blind,
The stars, the moon,
They have all been blown out,
You left me in the dark,
No dawn, no day,

Brown eyes peer into the depths of the darkened alleyway; they flicker across the cold exterior of the brick walls that lined the hiding place. Darkness seemed to gather at the edges, slowly pulling itself across the pathway, until it was grey. Cracks littered the walls in a series of twists and turns, they dug deep into the wall. Nooks and crannies filled with drugs of all sorts, hidden, deep into the crevices, where no one could touch them. And the only person that could reach them and retrieve them was the person that knew the secret of how they had gotten there. No one knew that secret except for Tiberius Haze.

[/i][/color] His eyes peer suspiciously as a shadowy figure stalks up to him. He was tall broad shouldered and carried himself with an air of weakness. It made Tiberius curl his lip ever so slightly in contempt, his left eyebrow raised slightly upwards in his trademark show of complete and utter carelessness. He wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t scared, this was his business and anyone who wanted his stuff had to fear him. They had only to make one wrong move and he would not hesitate to end their life.

What was one more death? He had killed so many already.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets; his worn jacket being pulled tightly as his hands sunk in extending the material until it was straight, giving him a rather odd look. The hood of the dark blue, faded jacket was pulled high over his dark blonde hair. He had neglected to brush it this morning, and so it was all ruffled and knotted; bed hair. The pants he wore were black and were made of a materiel that would rub together and produce a rather annoying sound as he walked, but it helped to warn people that he was not afraid, that being seen and heard did not make him cringe and flinch. His customer walked rather loudly, the sound echoed off of the alleyway, it running against the blocked in space until it finally escaped into the open air of the dark sky above them. The way he stood there, poised, gaze flickering over the alleyway as if he had not yet seen Tiberius. Tiberius couldn’t hid the ghost of a grin that flickered across his face.

It would be the same as always, the guy would give him his money; he would get what he wanted. There would be no need for knifes, graves and death. He didn’t believe he would have any trouble with the sombre figure that stood in the alleyway, a little away from him. But as always he kept a knife by his belt, ready to use it and really quite capable of using it. He had practiced with it a lot. Tiberius had no wish of dying, following his mother (Her death had left him scared, he still woke some nights screaming her name)into a world where you could not breathe and had to stay under the ground. He enjoyed feeling alive, the air in his hair, the chill of the cold as it bite into his skin, the heat of the sun as his skin burned under its rays. He loved it; he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it.[/i][/color] With a small sigh he strode forward, making his presence known in his first steps. He was no quite about the way he walked. An air of confidence and danger seemed to follow him; he was a man you knew you should not mess with.

”Mr Goravich. How kind of you to visit me.”

He lingered on the man’s name. He knew everything about Hopper Goravich. Hopper did not know one little thing about him.[/blockquote]


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[semper]

People really don’t over exaggerate it when they say drug deals are made in nasty back alleys. This place is nowhere near pleasant – the walls look like they’re about to come crumbling down, the stench of mold and mildew, garbage rotting in corners. Before we moved into the victor’s village our house wasn’t too much to get excited over since it was in near shambles, but that doesn’t mean I’ve turned my nose up at anything that’s “below” me now. It’s just… nasty. I figure that’s why dealers request meeting in gross alleys so you can avoid any sort of small talk and have less of a chance being seen in the transaction.

I don’t care too much about being caught, though. What are they going to do to me? Whip me then send me home? I don’t even know if using drugs would be something to be punished for by a whipping.

I pull my jacket tighter around me, hoping it’ll bring me more warmth. Though the wind has been blocked off, there’s still the chill in the air – or it’s just my huge intolerance of cold weather showing. Being in this alley only makes the weather seem colder and gloomier than it really is. Not pleasant at all.

[/color]

That’s when I hear the footsteps: loud and quick. My attention turns to the maker of the sound and, quite honestly, I’m a bit startled. A hooded figure with unruly hair poking out from underneath, and he even has some tattoo-like markings on his face. Reminds me of the one I have on my side that I recently got due to a “drunken adventure.”[/color] I start to wonder if he has anymore but the rest of his body is hidden underneath clothing. He’s got that stereotypical sketchy look that I find most dealers have, but the tattoos just add to it.

”Mr. Goravich. How kind of you to visit me.”

I discretely flinch at that name. In the steel factory I was just called “Goravich,” and now that Klaus is a victor, he’s become “Mr. Goravich.” Not me.[/color] That’s not my name and it won’t ever be. My jaw tightens ever so slightly as I look at him.

”Please, just call me Hopper.” My voice sounds much weaker than I had intended it to be. Mr. Goravich is that boy[/color] that’s changed so much and has stirred up all the feelings like silt swirling around in water. I don’t know if his return was harder for me or him.[/color] All these realizations have reared their ugly heads since he’s come back and they scare me. I’ve tried a lot of methods to cover up and shove down these “grotesque” feelings (well, everyone seems to think that incest is horribly wrong on some ungodly level[/color]) and so far I’ve come to really like the effect the drugs take on me. My hand reaches into my pocket and scoops up the coins I have, but I'm not handing them over until he shows the item I want. ”Do you have the stuff?”

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[cass]

tiberius haze.

And now it's left me blind,
The stars, the moon,
They have all been blown out,
You left me in the dark,
No dawn, no day,

It was always this way, slinking through the shadows of the dark alleyways. The place where the air seemed void of warmth and those who were not use to the chill that clung to the air, shivered. Tiberius did not. The feel of the cold against his skin was welcoming, it told him that he was alive, the shadows that prowled at the edges were creepy, but as long as he could see them on the ground he knew he was alive. As he spoke a fine mist flew from his lips, like a cloud it rose higher and higher into the sky until it disappeared altogether. He watched for a few seconds, his eyes trailing the clouds that were present in the sky. It was an awfully dark day, but it did nothing to destroy the somewhat gleeful mood that Tiberius was in. His hands subconsciously dug deeper into his pockets, the jacket pulling tighter as he tried to keep the warmth in his body. The cold did not bother him as much as it did to most others, he loved the air when it stung as you breathed in, when your hands went so cold that the only way to get them back was to rub them so hard that it burned.

His eyes flicker to the tattoos. They were awfully hard not to notice as many of them were openly on his face. The stuck out, the permanent stains a reminder of every bad thing that had happened to him. Tattoos covered everywhere on his body and it was another reason why he liked to wear long clothing, it stopped people from staring and prying (Prying into Tiberius’s past was not good for you, those who attempted it never got the chance to speak, before they found themselves dead), asking and speaking the questions he did not want to hear. Tiberius knew how to read a person; he knew how a person worked, what could drive them to kill, what could make them fall to the ground begging. He knew how humans worked and he knew the words that would allow him to diminish a person to no more than tears. It was easy to destroy a soul. It took little to no effort on his behalf.

He saw the flinch, the tightening of the jaw and he knew he had hurt the man. He had said something that had upset him. Again the ghost of a cruel grin flickered across his face, brief and hesitant. Tiberius Haze knew what made Hopper Goravich tick and know he had just found the means to hurt him, to annoy him and frustrate him, oh the whims of human emotions, they let on too much, and they gave too much away. Then he speaks. The words are tainted with a desperate weakness that only the deaf could miss, it just reinforced Tiberius’s views that this man was somewhat weak. And that the drugs he would give him were there for an escape. He often sold drugs to the depressed, those who wanted to escape the world, the people desperate enough to attempt to kill themselves, but fail because their will power is not strong enough.

They were his best customers.

He nodded his head, a swift, small movement that Hopper might not have even seen. He heard the rustle in his pocket, the dull clink of metal on metal, his eyes narrowed into thin slits as Hopper Goravich spoke once more. This time the grin that tugged at his lips spread into a sinister smile that he did not remove. “Ahh, but of course, Hopper.” He said politely, he made it a thing. He would never be rude to paying customers, they had his money and it would be so simple for them to walk away if they didn’t like what they saw, or heard for that matter. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag, filled with a small amount of drugs. He put the bag back in his pockets, his eyes warning Hopper, speaking a message of which he would not say. Money first, you have seen them.

”You know how business goes, do you not? I assume you have done this before, and if you have not I can explain it to you.”

[semper]

The first time I ever took a hit was quite something. In the locked confines of my room – behind locked doors, drawn curtains, cracked windows – I took my first suck of tainted smoke. It was amazing.

All those fears, anxieties, and worries all seemed to vanish with the rising tendrils of toxins. I didn’t care who was mad at me, who thought I was a sick human being, who thought I was destroying myself, who just flat-out hated me; all I knew was that I felt good.

[/color] Invincible. Bulletproof. Calm and stable.[/color] It was the first time in what seemed like forever that I felt things were okay and at ease. Before, when I was still at the factory, I had gone so far as trying alcohol to chase away the stress I was feeling, but that never worked. Why I hadn’t thought about these seductively sweet drugs before is beyond me. I was stupid back then and some would argue that I’m even stupider now, but who cares about them?[/color]

I quickly find that there’s something about this man in front of me that puts me off. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes – the way most dealers eye their customers like a predator eyeing prey[/color] – or the fact that he somehow knows that he’s pretty much got my whole life in his hand right now. These people aren’t stupid; they know the personalities of those who come crawling to them, begging for a packet that’ll put them at ease with the world. That’s what he sees me as right now.[/color] In my time of struggle I’ve come crawling to him, begging this stranger to help me out. The smile that draws across his face is normally one that I’d shy away from, but as his hand pulls out something from his pocket, I only want to run right for him.

The packet. My lifeline.[/color] The key to my escape, and the only thing standing between me and freedom is this man. My hand is still holding the coins in my pocket, though I’m hesitant to hand them over once the man’s put my sweet cure back into the safety of his pocket. What if he takes my money and runs?[/color] Not only will I be down quite a bit of money but I’ll be trapped within my sucky reality. My eyes lift their gaze back up to the man’s face, watching him carefully. If he tries anything funny and shortchange me then I’ll do my best to catch it, but I’m so drawn in by the lure of the packet that I really don’t think I’d catch anything he tries to slip past me. The gesture of putting the packet back lets me know that he wants the money first, but I’m skeptical. I’ve heard good things about this man – this Tiberius Haze[/color] – but other than his name and selling record, I know nothing of him. I don’t know who his superiors are, I don’t know where he gets the drugs to sell, I don’t know if he secretly laces them with anything extra to ensure people keep coming back to him though I’m sure that playing on people’s desperations is enticing enough to make people keep coming back.[/color] However, since I haven’t heard anything bad about this man – and he hasn’t attacked me yet for the money – I decide that I should take the polite route.

”I’m familiar with the process, Mr. Haze.” My hand keeps the coins safely in my pocket, though I’m tempted to pull them out. ”However, since I’m not familiar with your specific procedure, would you mind explaining it?” I don’t want to upset him – the last thing I need is for him to round up a gang of his buddies to come vandalize our house because I undercut him somehow without me even knowing it. It’s obvious, though, that I’m desperate.[/color] I need what he has in his pocket and there’s no doubt in my mind that he realizes this, but whether or not he’s decided to use that desire against me is a mystery. Slowly I pull out the handful of coins from my pocket, my eyes keeping their gaze zeroed in on Mr. Haze. I’m not going to let him undercut me like he probably thinks I’ll do to him. I just want my sweet escape.[/color] Then I’ll be gone, out of his care.

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[cass]

tiberius haze.

And now it's left me blind,
The stars, the moon,
They have all been blown out,
You left me in the dark,
No dawn, no day,

The sun had sunk so low that a few rays reached desperately into the alleyway. They grasped the walls, highlighting the cracks, the crevices and the general shabbiness. The alleyway wasn’t in good condition, it was broken and damaged, the walls almost looked as though with a small push, or too strong of a breeze would send them caving in. Tiberius resisted the urge to reach out a hand and feel the cold, rough stone against his skin. The alleyway was his home, he had everything here and after having dragged himself into the rags to riches deal he valued the place so much more. He needed the move he was going to earn today. He owed Mr. Nox the money and if he didn’t pay up today some of his life loan would slip from his fingers and he would plunder ever closer to zero and his death. He knew Mr. Nox would not hesitate to kill him, he had, like everyone else hard the other boys screams as he had been murdered. The boy hadn’t paid up so he had suffered the consequences. Tiberius felt no sympathy for the dead boy, everyone knew the deal, they had signed the contract and it was up to them to keep themselves alive.

The rays of the falling sun danced in front of him,but the shadows of the alleyway kept him safe in the darkness, they didn’t touch him. His brown eyes stared at the sun, feeling the warmth of it bit through the coldness that had descended over the alleyway. It was welcomed. The sky was a symphony of colours, reds bled across the sky, changing swiftly to yellow and orange, pink and purple. It touched the tops of the buildings and long shadows were cast across the ground. It looked sinister;

[/i][/color] the shadows looked creepy and demented as if they were hiding dark creatures that lurked there waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims.

He felt a small flicker of surprise as the boy said his name. But it quickly turned to weariness. He made sure to keep it from his face, hiding it behind expressionless eyes. Not many people knew him by his real name; he preferred to keep it secret and unknown. Names held power and if someone knew it then they could use it against you. He eyed Hopper Goravich. To know his name would mean that he had talked to someone that Tiberius knew, he had come to him from someone that Tiberius knew well. That means he either trusted that person or hated that person immensely. It was probably the latter, going with his luck. He found himself grinning in spite of himself, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he took in the boy, once more. He was quite frankly nothing to be impressed by and the fact that he had come as low as to buy drugs off of Tiberius meant that he was desperate.

Desperate people were dangerous.

Tiberius would never ever even if his life depended on it take drugs. He despised those who had to go so low as to take hallucinogens and other things to keep their lives in shape. He never openly showed his hate for these people, after all they were paying customers and he needed the money to live. But for no amount of money would he ever bring himself to level of having to fill his body with powder, leaves or cigarettes to satisfy his life, to calm himself down or to make his pathetic existence worthwhile. He hated the idea of poisoning his own body because he hated life, if he hated life he would do something to make it better, kill a person, make a person beg for mercy, get some flowers, go for a stroll, anything really, just no drugs. It did, however, make him curious as to why the brother of a victor would have to stoop to such a low level. He had all the money he wanted, he had his brother back from the games, he had everything that most people didn’t have and yet he wasn’t happy. He shrugged. It wasn’t his business to pry into people’s lives, he just gave them what they wanted.

”Please, call me Tiberius.” He replied, a crooked grin flashing onto his lips, before fading away to a small smirk. “My rules are simple, you place the money in my hand, I give you what you want. You try to double-cross me I slip a knife between your ribs. You get what you want I get what I want.” He tried to make it not sound like a threat, but in all honesty saying you will kill someone if they don’t play fair; there wasn’t a nice way of saying it.

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[semper]

My jaw tightens. I know this man isn’t trying to waste time or lollygag, but my need for what he has in his possession has an iron clasp on me. All these transactions seem to last much longer than they should or maybe I’m just impatient. I just want to forget.

The key to my escape is in this man’s hand, but as he basically threatens me with a stabbing my fingers curl harder around the coins. Of course I’m not going to do a switchback on him; no, I need the pills far too badly.

[/color] Where does he have the knife, though? In his sleeve? Shoe? Pocket? Somewhere within easy reach, no doubt. He’ll have no need for that, though.

”Fair enough, Tiberius.” If I were in his position I know for certain I wouldn’t sell to anyone that tried to upstage me, and depending on if this guys really has as good of substances as I’m told he has, I already know I’ll be coming back for more. It’s amazing how quickly my pitiful existence has come to rely so heavily on this stuff.[/color] The hand with the coins slowly starts to shake – whether from anxiousness or withdrawal I don’t know, I haven’t had a hit in a few days – rattling the copper circles around in a little jingle of sorts. I just want him to hand over the pills already but I know he won’t move until he gets what he wants first. That’s how they all think and work: me first, then the customer.[/color]

I pull out the coins and extend a trembling hand to Tiberius, trying to keep as steady as I can. I doubt he trusts me though with the way his grey eyes are looking at me. I’m probably the easiest customer ever. Being so desperate makes me easy to sponge money off of.[/color] He doesn’t hesitate to take the money from me (as if I’d really just snatch it back up from him[/color]) and my eyes quickly find the packet of pills in his hand. Just one of them can ease my pain some, but a few of them – or even a handful – could really put me at ease. With my trembling hand I take the packet out of his hand as calmly as I can, quickly drawing it close to my chest like it’s actually something precious to me.

”Is it just because we’re brothers?”

Jamar is the only one that knows my darkest secret. Jamarion Goravich, of all people – the bully, the abuser, the one that puts others down just for the fun of it.[/color] At first he was utterly disgusted by it but now I almost think he may genuinely be trying to help me. I just haven’t been listening to him very much.

”Yes Hop, it is. It really, really is. People don’t just fall in love with their brothers, it’s not normal. So yes, that’s why.”

I know Jamar knew those words hurt but they’re the complete and utter truth.[/color] People don’t fall in love with siblings, it’s not the way nature works. I’ve come to accept that I’m a freak[/color] but I still try to hide it, still try to douse those feelings toward him so I stop hurting. That’s what the drugs are for.

”So am I screwed up then? In the head?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an expert.”

“I wouldn't be this fucking upset if I wasn't in love with him.”

“I know. You really need to move on, though.”

“I can’t. I won’t. I’m not going to.”

I turn away from Tiberius, my fingers tearing hungrily at the flimsy plastic bag. A jagged opening appears and I pour out a good portion of them onto my palm. Such little things.[/color] I bring my hand to my mouth and swallow the handful as best I can without water or anything; just the feeling of the pills going down my throat is enough to calm me, even though they won’t take any sort of effect for a while. I just want it to chase away those stinging words, that pain that gnaws at my chest.

My empty hand curls into a fist as I wait for the shaking to subside. What do I look like to Tiberius? I’ve only just gotten the bag and already I’ve taken half of the contents.[/color] I’m pathetic, weak, and vulnerable. His view of me can’t be much better than any onlooker of my meaningless little life. I’m embarrassed by myself, even; it takes me a moment to realize that Tiberius is still standing there, and when I do then I shrink back in on myself, trying to almost hide from him. My hand clutches the remaining pills protectively against my chest.

”Thanks for, um… the packet.” I tell him quietly, unable to properly look him in those grey eyes.

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[cass]

And now it's left me blind,
The stars, the moon,
They have all been blown out,
You left me in the dark,
No dawn, no day,

He could so easily remember the first day he had meet Shadow. They were both in the drug dealing business; they sold and made the purest drugs in the whole of district three. Shadow was the leader, he had been the one to come up with the ideas he always did. But ever since they had both gone into the Rag’s and Riches business they had slowly slipped apart. The two of them rarely talked anymore, they rarely spoke and rarely did business together anymore. It didn’t take much for Tiberius to say he loved Shadow. He did. He loved that boy so much. They had done so much together, they had been friends for so many years and Shadow had even saved Tiberius’ life once. And than there was the other boy. That stupid little sniveling boy has ruined it all. Shadow stopped talking to him and the fond affection he had given him turned onto the other boy. He stopped playing with Tiberius’ in little ways that would make him stop and think was Shadow gay? And he started acting that way to the other boy –the boy that Tiberius’ had conveniently forgotten, his name never seemed to come to mind, that was because he was insignificant.

Shadow began to ignore him and in his pain Tiberius’ had started picking and teasing the other child, bullying him, he hated him for stealing the boy that he had cared so much for. Then Tiberius just walked away from him. He moved off with his own business making his own drugs and selling his own stuff to customers. He built up a good reputation, but he knew he would never get one as good as he had with Shadow, the two of them had been brilliant together and there is no way that you can level out brilliance. But he tried and he tried everyday to make it better. Tiberius, like Shadow never took drugs, they both despised those who had to turn to fake pills and depressants to satisfy needs, to calm their minds or make life better. They were desperate people who made him feel sick. They seemed to have no bounds, nothing stopping them from stooping low just to get their next dose. It was as if their lives depended on drugs, as if they could do nothing until they held them in their grasp.

He had seen too many times. The look of hunger and greed that would flicker in their eyes.The dry desperation that tightened their jaws, the shaking in the hands, the fast jerky movements, they were pathetic really. And yet he felt no wrong in selling them what they wanted. He kept all of this to himself, these people paid him for their weaknesses, although he would never exploit them he knew what would break them, they handed him secrets every time they asked for his drugs. He never felt sorry for the people that came to him, it was their fault, it was their choice to do this, no one ever made up their minds and no matter how many people begged them to try it, and it was their choice. They had no one to blame, but themselves for what they did.

Tiberius knew that as soon as he had handed the bag over to Hopper that the boy was lost. Their was a sickening feeling that filled him as the boy snatched it from him. It was as if there was nothing, but the pills in the bag that kept him alive. He watched the way his hands shook, unsteady and weak, and he watched as Hopper walked only a few steps before he tore the bag open, a desperate hunger to his actions, a want and a need that all of them had. He poured half of the packet straight into his mouth, just like that, it was gone. Tiberius raised an eyebrow, his eyes widening a fraction, that was not good. These drugs were not meant to be taken so quickly, you were meant to have two or three at a time, not half the packet. These things could kill you so easily, just one wrong amount, one pill too many and you could die.

He hesitated watching and waiting, hoping that Hopper wouldn’t suddenly collapse and maybe have a seizure or something crazy. These were Tiberius’ own pills, he had made them from raw materials, he knew who they worked, but he had never seen it happen. He bit his lip guiltily, he had forgotten to tell Hopper, It has slipped his mind, but he had forgotten to tell the his customer the risks, the precautions. He had been too caught up with the money. It weighed heavily in his pocket. He hugged the jacket tighter around himself, before reluctantly walking over to where Hopper stood, he never did this, he never talked more than he had to, to the people that too his drugs. It wasn’t that he hated them it was that he hated what they did to themselves. He sighed.

”Hopper? Are you alright, man? Because seriously dude, you should not have taken that many of the pills. Bad shit can happen, real bad stuff.”

[semper]

Sweet, sweet escape.

The pills nearly stuck to the back of his dry throat as he swallowed them, resulting in a quick yet satisfying cough. Hopper made a quiet grunt to make sure all the little spheres were down so that their toxins could fill him. Impatience, however, beat out the sweet nectar; his hands continued to tremble even with the looming promise of dulled senses and a hollowed-out mind, his heart was racing, and his fingers curled tighter around the small plastic bag. They said it’d work faster on an empty stomach so why is it not happening yet?

[/color] He diverted his eyes from Tiberius and chose to examine the walls, as filthy as they were. Molds of all different shades clung to the rough exterior of the walls; little streams of water droplets trickling down through the cracks; old graffiti that was fading; and even a few random glass shards stuck in the wall.

But nothing was moving or shifting uncomfortably in his vision – everything was motionless and appeared rock-solid. The seconds ticked by and Hopper was beginning to grow anxious. Did Tiberius throw a switchback on me? Addicts are easy to fool but are a hellion if screwed around with.[/color] His green eyes cast their gaze down at trembling hands as he lowered them back down to his sides, still clutching the bag as if his life depended on it. Should I take more? No, I’ve already had half the bag. I need to save the rest.[/color] Heartache was an ongoing pain and to use up all of the serenity-giving pills on the first night was a very dumb mistake. He quickly shoved the remaining pills into his pocket, the hand making quite a jerky movement when letting go of the packet – a reluctance to let go, really.

Hopper’s head snapped up when he heard Tiberius’s voice so much closer than it had been before. The man had come up to him, concern coloring his voice and adding emphasis to each of his words.

”…. you should not have taken that many of the pills. Bad shit can happen, real bad stuff.”

The green-eyed boy knew that all too well. He had seen horrible things in the world of an addict: huddled over in a corner injecting sweet nectar into the arm, scarfing down pills as a starving dog would do to a slab of raw meat, handfuls of what he first believed to be cigarettes just bundled up together on either side of the person. I’m becoming one of them.[/color] Hopper had yet to venture into the depths of putting a needle in his arm but he wasn’t that desperate. Needles didn’t bother him but he preferred greatly to just swallow pills or smoke – painless and easy with very nice results.

Thoughts had passed through his mind also of overdosing, which would require the same actions he had just executed. To Hopper, the pain outweighed any good thing that had happened to him up until that point. Klaus was becoming much more distant than he ever had been, leaving Hopper in the dark to wallow in worst-case assumptions and self-loathing. Does he know? All those secrets I’ve kept hidden for far too long – are they obvious to him? Is everything we’ve ever done together tainted with something I can’t redeem myself for?[/color] A flash of panic coursed through him and he felt his face pale just slightly; his eyes turned away from Tiberius once more but his thoughts shifted toward the tattooed man.

Am I alright? What a stupid question.[/color] He sucked in a small breath and tried to gather himself up enough to answer, though the sudden intake of air made him remarkably dizzy. No, everything’s wrong, Tiberius. Everything’s wrong with me, that’s why I’m here leeching drugs off of you.[/color] Hopper stumbled back a step. ”I’m fine.” He said, giving a swift nod despite how long it took for him to get his balance back. ”Thank you, Tiberius.”

Hopper turned to leave, moving slowly so as to not throw himself off balance, and began walking. At first he kept a straight course but things in his vision were quickly changing. The alleyway before him sudden lurched, tilting up at such an odd angle; the boy’s foot snagged on the ground and he toppled forward, a few glass bottles and metal pails scattering out of the way at the moment of impact. His head knocked against the cold concrete and he was motionless, dead to the world and flying too high on the sweet, sweet escape.[/color]

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

[cass]

Your eyes they tie me down so hard
I'll never learn to put up a guard
So keep my love, my candle bright
Learn me hard, oh learn me right
This ain't no sham

I am what I am
Though I may speak some tongue of old
Or even spit out some holy word
I have no strength from which to speak
When you sit me down, and see I'm weak

He watched. His eyes never left the old boys face; the tanned skin had that sickly yellow tinge that so often came with those that were heavily dependent on drugs. His eyes were round and bloodshot; the veins of the white in his eyes were prominent and made him look as though sleep was the last thing on his mind. Oh and the eyes, there was that desperate hunger, and that horrid lingering look as if for a moment you had forgotten where you were and there was no one in the world apart from you and those pills. He saw it all the time, the crazed look of a person who was lost, but it never made Tiberius sad, it never made even a flicker of guilt burn in his chest, because he was always too busy, counting the coins in his hands, avoiding them, wanting them to leave. Because he knew that if they stood there he would see them, he would be affected by things that he didn’t want to be scarred by. Tiberius Haze did not want to care for these people, but looking at Hopper it was all he felt. A need to help the boy that took the pills that he despised so much.There was a certain dream like tone to his words, as he thanked Tiberius, and the way he walked and the way he held himself carried the air of a person who knew not what they were doing. Heavy bags sat beneath the ridge of his eyes, and it did not help to ease the worried eyes that gazed at Hopper, the young boy was sick and the drugs that he had taken would only make it worse.

He had taken too many, half the packet gone within seconds. That amount of pills was meant to last a person three even four days, it was not good. His body, even though it was covered in thick layer of clothing was thin and uncared for. He looked as if he wouldn’t put up a fight if you were to stick his head in water and drown him. He was looking more and more like a person who wanted to die.These were all the signs of a person who no longer cared, a boy that did not want to live. Hopper Goravich was losing the fight to stay alive and he was digesting disgusting pills to keep himself going, even though they were slowly eating away on the boy that he was. They were destroying him. They hollowed a person out like cancer, eating away at you until every day you were in pain, and the very thing that was killing you was your only respite.

Tiberius rarely lingered on what his pills did. He rarely took notice of the people he gave drugs to. He got what he wanted they got what they wanted. But in the many years since he had been doing this he had never seen one of them straight out take half of the packet. He was sure some of them had done it, but never right in front of him. It made him worry, and a twisted knot of apprehension seemed stuck in his chest, where no amount of prying and plucking could remove it. He had killed people, he had hurt people, but never once had he seen a person die in front of him from his own drugs, people just didn’t do that and yet the boy in front of him tottered away on legs that were as safe as straws, carrying a body that was poisoned and seemed to sway with each step he took. And maybe today was the day; maybe he would see a boy die right in front of him. The knot tightened and he scolded himself for thinking such a thing. Hopper wouldn’t die, Tiberius was there, and if something happened he would help him.

There was also that persistent nagging feeling that told him, which warned him that if Hopper died or if Hopper was hurt in any way he would be in so much shit. He was supplying the older brother of a victor with drugs. A victor that could easily get him killed with a few words. No way was it a good idea to let Hopper go home, no way was it a good idea to let this boy leave his eye sight looking like he was going to fall and never get up. Tiberius did not want to wrath of a victor coming down on him.

Then Hopper was falling, he staggered a few steps forwards, before walking seemed impossible and his legs and his feet twisted as he tried to move again. And the ground raced forth to meet him; it would hit him with such an impact that he could possibly break open his head. But Tiberius darted forwards, the few steps that it took him seemed like ages, Hopper kept on falling, he didn’t even try to stop himself. He could be dead; he could be just falling because his heart has stopped beating, because of his drugs, because of what Tiberius had given him.

[/i][/color] The thought made him flinch, but he managed to wrap a strong steady arm around Hoppers waist before the cold hard stone hit him. The boy was heavy, and Tiberius staggered back a stop as the full weight hit him, he kept a tight grip on the lifeless form of Hopper Goravich. Carefully he placed him onto the cool stone; he shrugged off his jacket and laid it against Hopper’s head, like a pillow. His bare arms didn’t feel the cold and the thin singlet he wore was tight around his muscles, which strained with the effort of putting Hopper down gently.

“Hopper, can you hear me? ‘cos dude, I need you to say something, or like open your eyes.” He swallowed nervously, feeling a little stupid at his inability to do anything. If Hopper had an overdoes he would need to make him vomit, bring up the drugs, get them out of his system before his heart stopped beating, before he was dead. ”I told you not to take so many pills.” He scowls, but it was tinged with worry and an anxious feeling in his chest made him ache and he couldn’t help, but think that maybe he was dead. He just hoped he wasn’t.[/blockquote][/justify][/size]

We will run and scream
You will dance with me
They'll fulfill our dreams and we'll be free
And we will be who we are
And they'll heal our scars

ooc -- [ sorry about this reply and the wait on it A lot of ramblinggg ]

Sadness will be far away
So as we walked through fields of green
Was the fairest sun I'd ever seen
And I was broke, I was on my knees
And you said yes as I said please

[semper]

He felt no pain; just an odd lightness as if he were floating. The darkness welled up all around, swallowing Hopper’s conscience and twisting it. Out of that darkenss in his head arose monsters – monsters far worse than any of his physical pain.

At first it was a voice. Soft words with a timid masculine voice wafted around the emptiness. ”Hopper? Say something, Hop.” He knew the voice all too well; it was the one that colored so many spoken stories with such a deep passion that it almost made him wonder why the owner of the voice was born into this reality as opposed to the ones between the worn book covers. Out from the endless darkness came Klaus’s face, though unlike the concerned tone of his voice, his eyes told a different story. That pair of brown eyes Hopper had grown to love so much was filled with disgust; his nose turned upward and his face scrunched up as if he had suddenly come across a bad odor.

Then Klaus’s face turned away. Hopper longed to reach out but his limbs were uselessly hanging by his sides like lead weights. He watched, though, as the head of unkempt brown hair continued to shrink, eventually fading back into the emptiness.

Another voice suddenly cut through like a knife; angry, venomous, stinging words flung themselves at Hopper by someone who now knew him all too well.

”You’re a freak, Hopper! An unnatural freak! I don’t see why you even bother trying to dull all these feelings of lust because you’ll never be rid of them. You’ll always be a freak!”

Hopper shrank away from the words and glaring blue eyes, his body stirring on the pavement. His movements were very small and jerky, mostly due to him still being trapped within the confines of his mine. Hopper’s eyes moved rapidly behind the lids as he stirred, occasionally flickering open. All he could see was the shadowy silhouette of someone hovering above him but it was enough to suddenly terrify him. His jaw began worked and a hoarse, quiet, broken plea escaped him.

”Please don’t hurt me, Jamar… oh ripred please don’t hurt me…”

The silhouette vanished from his vision as his eyes closed again. Hopper’s body slowly became still as he was dragged back into his mind, harsh voices spitting insults and accusations at him.

”Incest freak!”
“Go back to Six’s asylum!”
“Don’t come near my kid!”

“Say something, Hopper.”

But he could not.





((ugly post because just ew D: </3 ))

[/justify][/color]

[cass]

Your eyes they tie me down so hard
I'll never learn to put up a guard
So keep my love, my candle bright
Learn me hard, oh learn me right
This ain't no sham

He couldn’t remember a time in which he had ever found himself in a situation as precarious and dangerous as now. He had faced many situations in which he had had to fight for his life, without a weapon or with a weapon. He was every day facing his death with what he did, being captured and executed, but now. Now was different, he had never been faced with a boy in front of him that was unconscious, a boy that he didn’t want to kill, a boy that he had no need to get money or debts from. And more importantly the older brother of the victor and victors have too much influence. Bitterly he replayed the idea of talking to them about their dead brother because of him, telling them that his drugs had killed their brother, the victor’s brother. No. That would make him end up worse than dead; Klaus would probably have him pay greatly for it. He glanced anxiously down at Hopper; words forming on his lips, wanting to just blurt them out and speak them hit him, shake him and wake him up.

But of course Hopper did nothing, he just continued lying there being unconscious, not moving, as still as death. Tiberius shook his head and prodded Hopper with a finger, he poked him in the chest, hoping that maybe it would wake him up. He needed to get Hopper over to his house somewhere where he could figure out a way to get the drugs out of his system. He looked up the alleyway and almost laughed without humour. Oh how funny this would look to anyone who saw, to men in an alleyway one of them lying on the ground whilst the other one was bending over him. And if anyone knew Tiberius they would assume he was killing the boy, it did not look very good.

His house was just around the corner at the top of the alleyway where it was sheltered by darkness. He made sure he had the house on the corner where even when the sun was at its highest it would still be dark. The dark was helpful, no one could see things and it meant that Tiberius could take things inside and outside of his house easily. He could see the front step from his position and he judged it to be no mare then fifty meters. That would have been easy if Hopper was someone who was a bit lighter and not a fully grown male that looked as if he worked out a bit. Because even in his sickened condition the muscle were evident, of course Tiberius noticed these things, he noticed things about men all the time, they were the people he was in to and Hopper was no exception. He chastised himself for thinking about such things when the boy could be dead. This was not the situation; he could think about it later, when he knew that Hopper was going to be alright.

Then Hopper’s eyes fluttered open and Tiberius breath got caught in his throat, he was alive. Tiberius opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Hopper spoke. His words were laced with unmistakable fear and pain, worry and desperation and Tiberius could not help, but wonder why Jamarion Goravich would want to hurt Hopper? Tiberius had done a background check on Hopper before he had visited him, it was what he always did and being the brother of a victor provided him with easy accessible information, everyone wanted to know about Klaus Goravich and his family. He knew that Jamar was his brother, but it confused him as to why he would plead to not be hurt. He stared quizzically at Hopper, but just as the last words of his cry escaped his lips his eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became shallow. Tiberius cursed silently and jumped into action; he wrapped his arms around Hopper and hauled him up. He was a dead weight and was fully unconscious again. With more haste then gentleness he threw him over his shoulder, his hands scrambled on his jacket, before he turned and stumbled over to his house.

With a grunt he shoved the door open, revealing a clean exterior of a well-kept house. The door opened up into a small hallway with an arch that lead of immediately to the left. The walls were yellow with age, but clean and the paint although racked ahead not yet reached the stage where it fell to the floor in flakes. The house was rather dark, all the curtains drawn closed, but it smelled fresh and clean, there was no hint of mould or that musty old small. Tiberius hated to live in filth so he prided himself on being able to keep his home clean and fresh. He walked straight through the door on the left and into a small lounge room; there was a couch and very old battered Television. As carefully as he could he dumped Hopper onto the couch, before standing back and staring at him. He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face, what an odd situation.

”Okay, Hopper. Erm I guess I'm going to go and make you throw up, because it will get the pills out and make you feel better." He spoke them awkwardly, he hesitated waiting to see if Hopper would move or say anything, but he didn't. He remained stubbornly unconscious.

I am what I am
Though I may speak some tongue of old
Or even spit out some holy word
I have no strength from which to speak
When you sit me down, and see I'm weak

[semper]

There were only a few things about Jamarion Goravich that really just put Hopper off. What got most people was just his deathly, icy gaze; there is nothing in the world – besides Seph, of course

– that Jamarion would look at with a soft gaze. Everyone at school received a look that warned for you to get out of his way or be shoved, and it was that same set of cold blue eyes that was plaguing Hopper’s dark mind. The lids were arced downward in a permanent scrutinizing glare, simply wearing down on him, that dark baritone voice repeatedly spitting out brutally honest comments. He knew they were all true, but he had avoided the truth for so long that to have someone on the outside say how wrong and taboo it was, it was just too much for the boy to bear.

But love is love, right? In any form?

[/color] No one is supposed to get in trouble for being in love – that’s reserved for people who are in love with the same person; they then can sort it out amongst themselves. No one’s ever heard of being in love with your blood brother though.[/color] Jamarion certainly hadn’t taken very well to that discovery; his large fist clocked Hopper square in the side of the face, throwing him back onto the ground and knocking over a table and vase. The vase had shattered – just like the eldest boy’s confidence in his secret. If Jamarion could piece it together, who else could? He isn’t the brightest at anything, really, so if it was that easy for him to figure out…[/color] Who else could have found out? Marina? Lyana? Tacara? Or even Klaus?[/color]

Despite the possibilities, Hopper did not ever want Klaus to find out. He could barely stand Jamarion breathing fire down his back for the “incest,” and if Klaus were to start doing that, everything would come crashing down. The young boy he’d spent so many nights with staying up until he fell asleep, reading him stories even though he always embarrassed himself with stumbling over unknown words (more like every other word[/color]), fabricating stories out of thin air and weaving them into tales of heroes of long lost cities and countries, and even just joking around by the fire as they were wrapped tightly together in a blanket. Everything I’ve ever done with him will be ruined with something I can’t fix.[/color] There was no doubt in Hopper’s mind that he would be looked at much differently, also. He knew that he wouldn’t be seen as the protective older brother anymore – instead he would be thought of poorly, and everything he ever did with any of them would be questioned and deemed suspicious of some ulterior motive. He never meant to bring any harm to anyone with the discovery of his secret, but now that it was out in the open he had no means of stopping it.

Green eyes slowly opened, and through a hazy gaze the dark looming figure was seen again. A subtle fear began growing and gnawing in his belly, causing his aching body to shift and stir. Hopper tried to turn away from the dark figure but something – a wall, perhaps – was blocking his moves. A low whimper escaped him as muffled and distorted words hit his ears, though he could not understand them. Don’t hurt me, Jamar, I’m so sorry.[/color] He tried once again to move away from the hovering silhouette as the baritone voice filled his head again: ”It’s unnatural, Hopper! You freak!” Sore limbs tried to move faster but to no avail; the back of the couch was nothing but a barrier and kept him from escaping the figure that continued to get closer. More whimpers and jarred, quivering sounds came from the eldest Goravich boy; his head quickly turned away as something was placed into his mouth and something put over both his mouth and nose to prevent him from spitting it out. He was forced to swallow, but as soon as he did he came very much alive.

Hopper’s stomach churned with such intensity that he instantly curled up on his side, clutching at it with one hand and propping himself up on his other elbow. A gaping sensation opened up in the back of his throat and forced him to lean over the side of the couch and heave out what little stomach contents he had, but it didn’t end there. Whatever it was that was put into his mouth continued to make him vomit until he was shaking and dry heaving, unable to bring up anything else.

Pressure had built up behind his head and after spitting out the bitterly gross saliva, he rested it against the couch, trying to control his breathing and prevent anymore upheavals. Still on his side, Hopper pulled his legs up to himself and curled up on the corner of the sofa, oblivious to the change of scenery around him. His eyes were kept shut and the wretched scent of vomit was just tickling at his belly to start churning again.

”What…. what was that…?” He gasped in a trembling voice, asking the shadowy figure he remembered seeing earlier.




[/blockquote]

((I don't even know what happened to this post x.x ))
[/size][/justify][/color]

[cass]

Your eyes they tie me down so hard
I'll never learn to put up a guard
So keep my love, my candle bright
Learn me hard, oh learn me right
This ain't no sham

With another worried glance at the boy that lay on his couch he left the room. His feet were silent on the ground and he couldn’t remember the last time he had spent a whole entire night in this house. He never had need to. Ever since he had joined the rags for riches group he had a house, a place in a mansion where he could do anything he wanted to.But the house he now walked on was closer to his business, it had been previously owned by a man that had, sadly, wronged Tiberius. He had tried to play him, twisting his words and changing the way that he sold his drugs, trying to make them cost less. Tiberius had eventually told him to fuck off and leave him alone. He did not want to business with a person that would not abide by his rules. The words had consequently angered his would have been customer and the man left with the words of a threat hanging in the air between them.

Tiberius was not a man to let idle threats come and hunt him. He would have been fine if the man had of simply left, had he not turned around and voiced his hate, adding on a string of curses and wishes of his violent death, filled with pain and misery. The man had stalked off, believing he had probably scared Tiberius, probably thinking that Tiberius regretted not doing the deal with him. Tiberius however, burned with a black rage at the ignorance of the man. He would not let such actions go unpunished; it was one of the reasons why his customers never treated him that way. He always made repent to those who had done him wrong. The man would suffer, his reputation would live and others would learn from his mistake, and if they didn’t they would end up dead to.

The dining room was large and spacious, it was old, older then most houses in district three and Tiberius assumed that the now deceased man had inherited the house from his parents. The wall had an old form of paper clinging to it, woven with expertly fashioned flowers; it bordered the edges of the room, running along the boarding skirts, giving the room the appearance of femininity. Tiberius hated the pretty little flowers. They were not to his taste, but he had yet to gather the time to remove them and cover it over with fresh paint. Yes, he earned a decent amount of money from his business, but that money went to paying off of his debt for Mr. Nox, and when he wasn’t paying that off the money went to buying new supplies for his business. Sometimes he wondered whether the bargain he had struck with the infamous Nox was worth it.

He strode over to the nearest cupboard and tugged it open in one graceful movement, despite the cupboards old worn look they moved soundlessly on oiled hinges. Tiberius eyed the content with some distaste, his stock was running very low, and the plant he would need to use was rare and very hard to come by. The leaves were dark green and sat to one side of the cupboard, not protected by anything. He reached a hand forwards and grabbed a few, they were crisp and dry, they held a rough texture, but he knew that on the inside their was moisture, they came from a very sturdy plant. The plant thrived in harsh conditions, and the few bits of moisture that gathered in it was not poisonous, but when the liquid was left to sit, and the water and other harmless chemicals dried out it left a sticky substances that was toxic. It did not kill a person, but it would make someone violently throw up, removing all the food from their stomach and a lot of the stomach juices.

It would hurt a lot.

Shoving the cupboard closed he stalked back into the lounge room where Hopper still lay. With a slight hesitance he moved to the sick boy and knelt down beside him. He muttered and mumbled and Tiberius could tell that if he didn’t act now the drug would over run his system and Hopper would die. It was a very strong drug. Carefully, he reached forwards and grabbed Hopper’s face, his skin was warm to the touch and slightly sticky with sweat, but Tiberius didn’t mind, because the skin felt pleasant against his cold hands, and he found a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With care he placed the lips into a resistant Hopper’s mouth. So the boy could not spit them out he blocked his nose and mouth so that he could not breath. He was forced to choke down the bitter tasting leaves.

Tiberius hopped back and out of the way, wearily eyeing Hopper, and waiting for it to begin. “Shit!” He snapped as he realised he had forgotten the bucket. There was no where for Hopper to throw up into. He began to turn, but Hopper threw back his head and a groan escaped his lips, followed by a foul smelling liquid. “Fuck, god damnit.” He growled as the vomit splashed onto his clean carpet. He glared at the hunched over form. Angered by his own stupidity. The boy threw up every single thing that was in his stomach and after a few minutes all he could do was dry heave and Tiberius found himself wincing, dry heaving was very painful, especially when your body was forcing you to, it would be as though his stomach would be about to come up, excess toxin still in his stomach.

The air was tainted by the foul smell of vomit and Tiberius crinkled his nose in disgust. Before answering the question hopper had thrown him. “It’s… well, I don’t really know what it is. All I know is that it makes you throw up,” he could taste it in his mouth, it made his stomach twist and his eyes water. The disgusting taste of vomit was everywhere. “And it worked, the dry heaves will be there for a few more minutes and then they will pass, but you are going to be really weak for a few hours.” He looked at the mess on the floor and then he glanced again at Hopper a sigh lingering on his lips. The mess Hopper had gotten them both into, all because he had taken too many pills. But a question was formulating in his head and he couldn’t help himself, but ask.

”Why’d you do it? Why did you take that many pills? You knew it would do you bad.”

I am what I am
Though I may speak some tongue of old
Or even spit out some holy word
I have no strength from which to speak
When you sit me down, and see I'm weak

[semper]

The heaves and chokes continued to come even though there’s nothing left in your stomach to bring back up. With each choking gag your torso curls in and you lean over the side of the couch, not particularly caring about the mess you’re making at this point. It’s a stranger’s house and, despite what your morals are telling you, what do you care about some stranger? He pretty much just saved my life. I owe him something.

A faint swear crosses your lips. You don’t want to leave the world with any unpaid debts and you hadn’t had any up until this point, and now you owe this stranger your life but he made a mistake in saving me. I’m not worth it.

[/color] Why would Tiberius go out of his way to save a lowlife addict, anyway? Does he just want you to keep crawling back to him, begging for drugs and handing over all your possessions for them? The thought is cut off by yet another dry heave, one that leaves you gasping for air and your hand cradling your forehead as you lean over.

Tiberius speaks and it’s not particularly what you wanted to hear. I’ll be weak for hours but I don’t want Klaus or Jamar or anyone to know that anything’s wrong with me.[/color] What could you possibly do for those few hours? If you wandered around the district there was no doubt in your mind that at some point you would just collapse from exhaustion. Would it be better for you to just stay here with Tiberius? Would he even be okay with an addict like you staying under his care? Your fingers press against your temples, green eyes hiding behind closed lids. No shit it made me throw up.[/color] A low, quiet groan escapes you at the news about the dry heaving being a companion for a few minutes. Already your head felt like it was going to explode and it makes you cringe; you try to steady your breathing as much as possible to prevent anymore heaves but they keep coming like an unwanted gift.

I’m already weak and lousy, I don’t need something else to make me that even more.[/color] For so long you tried to hide all the weak aspects of you from your siblings (I wouldn’t even care if Dad found out; he wouldn’t give a shit if I left. He’d want me gone anyway if he found out[/color]), but if you returned to the victor’s house looking pale-faced and sick, they would without a doubt ask you what happened and the absolute last thing you wanted to tell them was that you tried to eat half a packet of pills in order to off yourself. No, when I off myself they won’t know it. It’ll be much more subtle than this.[/color] No one would find you next time – especially not some stranger that only wants you alive to drain your money.

Then the inevitable question comes: ”Why’d you do it?”

You rub your temples, refusing to look up at Tiberius. Why else would anyone eat half a fucking packet?[/color] You knew those drugs were strong, that’s why you wanted to get your hands on them. Should I answer him honestly or lie?[/color] Why would Tiberius even care if you told him everything? He’ll just run me off like everyone else will.[/color] There’s nothing sweet or romantic about your story anyway – there’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll just think you’re a completely mental person.

”No one falls in love with their brother, Hopper.”

A hacking cough escapes you, filling your mouth with the disgusting taste of vomit. Well, if I’m going to kill myself soon then someone might as well know why.[/color] You clear your throat and spit the gross saliva out onto the floor that’s already ruined with vomit.

”I don’t want to fucking be here anymore.” You tell him rather harshly, as if the actions he had taken in making you throw up the drug were a mistake. ”Why else would anyone eat half the packet at once?” You dare to look up at him, bloodshot green eyes almost glaring at his tattooed face – scrutinizing and asking why. ”Why’d you bring me here and force me to throw it up? You could’ve just left me. You should have.” A sudden dry heave forces you to drop your gaze and hunch over the side of the sofa, spitting and gasping for air. The pressure continues to build up in your head and all you want to do is just get rid of it; it’s all Tiberius’s fault.[/color] A frustrated mutter sounds from you. ”I know those pills were strong, that’s why I wanted them—“

Another heave. After spitting out the vile liquid, you suck in a quick breath of air and before you can stop yourself, you tell the man the bane of your existence.

”I’m a freak because I’m in love with Klaus Goravich and I don’t want to be there when he finds out.” The words tumble out and you shake your head, still refusing to look up at the marked man. Shame and anger both fill your voice but you continue on, despite what you believe Tiberius is thinking about you. ”Not only that, but when Jamar was drunk—… when he was drunk I took advantage of it and fucked him. I didn’t mean to…. I couldn’t help it. Something’s wrong with me and I don’t know what, but I don’t want to find out. I can’t make these feelings stop and I know they shouldn’t be happening but it feels so right. I feel like it’s normal to love Klaus the way I do but I know it’s not.” Your hand clamps down over both your eyes. He’s judging me – he’s judging Klaus, he’s judging Jamar. The family name’s gone to mud.[/color]

”I don’t know what else to do anymore, Tiberius.”




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