washed up -- dillion

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out Jason liked the beach as much as the next guy, sure enough, but it certainly wasn’t on the list of places he wanted to wake up. In theory, it sounded like a blast. Like paradise. Waking up to the sound of the waves, to the beating of the sun, blue skies and girls in bikinis and all that. In reality, beaches are sandy. And waking up face-down on a beach means you’re going to have sand everywhere. In the creases of your clothes, clinging to any and all bits of exposed skin, clumping in hair and worst of all, in your mouth. It was the taste of sand that roused him, as a matter of fact. He woke slowly, rolling his tongue around his mouth to the taste of salt, to the feel of grit saturating his gums. He grimaced, and the movement of the facial muscles required to make this expression dragged his raw cheek against the sand it was pressed against. A small groan escaped him – tiny, inaudible. His eyes opened, lashes brushing with delicate precision against the dune he was lying on, and he grunted, then hastily recoiled. If there was one problem he did not need on top of everything else, it was sand in his eyes, for Christ’s sake. Slowly, he forced himself to sit up. The world shifted and lurched alarmingly, the sea and the sky and the sand all rolling together into one confusing blur of colour and shapes. Somewhere nearby, a kid squealed with obnoxious laughter, and the sound was like a sharp implement being driven through his skull. It set his teeth on edge. In the back of his throat he tasted bile and something metallic, like blood, maybe, and he was suddenly very sure he was going to be sick. He sat perfectly still until the urgency of the vomiting reduced itself back to vague nausea. He took a shallow breath of salty air, then carefully raised one hand to his head, confused, somehow hoping to be able to compress the stabbing pain of his headache. He swallowed back sand and bile, then forced himself to calmly take stock of his surroundings. He did a quick sweep of the beach. There was a middle aged couple reading books on some sun loungers, and he could see the tracks in the sand where they’d clearly dragged the loungers away from his unconscious self. There were a whole host of annoying tourist family groups – overweight kids building sand castles and stomping on sea shells. There were a group of girls playing volley ball, but even this ridiculously appealing cliché failed to move him to any more than the slightest level of interest. His brain was not up to processing any of these things in any depth. He checked his pockets next, looking both for clues to how he’d arrived here and the simple reassuring fact that he still had his wallet and phone. His phone – yes, but his wallet was missing in action. In it’s usual place, he found a selection of three or four matchbooks from different bars downtown. Well, that at least answered the question of where he’d been last night. The fresh track marks peppering the crook of his elbow alluded to what he’d been doing. He racked his memory and couldn’t recall a single solid image from the night before. Or the day, even. Or… what day was it, now? Does it matter? He asked himself next, and from there managed to convince himself that it didn’t. It didn’t matter. The how and the when and the what the hell did I do now were questions that could wait, or be successfully ignored forever. What mattered now was pulling himself together and finding some way to get home, so he could sleep this all off without eating sand and listening to tourists. Using a great amount of effort, Jason stood. Swayed, then managed to right himself. He unhooked his sunglasses from the front of his t-shirt and briefly checked his reflection in the dark mirror of the lenses. The face blinking back at him was a puffy, pale, tired version of how he usually looked. There was a crust of dried blood running from one nostril, forming a hard scab just over his lip. He brushed it away as best he could, then slipped the glasses on to hide his bloodshot eyes. Ready to roll, he tried to convince himself now, but a couple of shaky steps across the sand proved otherwise, and very quickly he wound up sitting back down. No. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be going anywhere just yet… ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[DILLION DESI VITELA]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#f8f8f8; border-left: 40px solid #E0B1B1;] [/style][style=background:#827e7e; padding:5px; font-family:sans-serif; font-size:8px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; color:#ffffff;]next time i'll be braver. i'll be my own savior. when the thunder calls for me.   Groaning lightly, Dillion shifted her feet from under her so she was sitting on her bottom. Morning sickness seemed to follow her all through out the day. Making her morning sickness into all day sickness. Wiping her mouth with a few napkins she tossed it into the trash can and gripped onto the side of the bathtub to push herself up. Glancing at the clock the red numbers flashed one pm, her gaze moved towards the mirror before the sink and dropped down to her stomach. She was around four months pregnant and feeling like a hot air balloon. Dillion turned to her side and placed her hands gently on her protruding stomach. She couldn't help but think back to Jason Astor. The man she swore she could change, the man she swore she loved, but she hadn't heard from him after what happened between them happened and she didn't expect to see him anytime soon. Part of that was on her, her fear of his reaction towards her pregnancy. Her fear of him not wanting anything to do with her or the baby after he found out. He needed to know though, and she wouldn't feel comfortable until she told him. Being as crazy as Jason is, she knew it'd be hard to get a hold of him. Heck, most of the time he couldn't even get a hold of himself. Licking her dry lips, Dillion pulled out a white summer dress from her drawer. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, loose clothing seemed to her typical outfit for any day. Pulling the dress down over her head and onto her shoulders. Dillion smoothed out the dress and glanced around her room, grabbing both a blanket and a book. Being that it was her day off and that her roommate, and close friend, was at class Dillion figured a day out at the beach would do her some good. Just to relax and sunbathe without having to worry about dealing with her current loss of a job or her parents removing her from all things family related. The great thing about Dillion's apartment was that it was merely a fifteen minute walk away from the beach. Which for Dillion was the closest she had ever been to a beach in all of her lifetime. When she reached the beach she wasn't too surprised to see it somewhat packed. Children running into the water, parents keeping a close eye. Couples laying on towels and groups of friends playing volley ball. It all felt comfortable to Dillion, something she didn't mind being around. Laying out her beach towel, Dillion slowly bent to the side so that she could sit on the towel, she grabbed her book and flipped to the page she last left on. It hadn't been that long before Dillion felt the presence of another person to the left of her. Glancing to the side of her she instantly turned the other direction, sighing as she realized that the person who had stumbled beside her was Jason. Not exactly how she pictured telling him but she figured she shouldn't miss her chance, not knowing when the next time she'd see him. Taking a deep breath Dillion slid her book into her bag and turned her head back to his sunken figure. "Jason..?" She cleared her throat and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her eyes moved about his body then back to his face. "H-how've you been?" note: sorry it isn't that great. :/ it'll get better ok?   Coded by Juliet of RCR, ATF, SP, & Caution.

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out “Jason…? H-How’ve you been?” It took some time for the words to permeate his brain, for him to remember his name was Jason and that a question prefixed with that might well be addressed to him. He looked up too fast and the world span. His hand was shaking a little when he lifted it to his face to prop up his glasses so he could look in that direction, unimpeded. It was Dillion. With hindsight, he realised he should have recognised the voice. He’d heard it often enough, knew her well enough that he should be able pick it out. But hell, right now he couldn’t even see straight. He had a vague impression of her sitting on a towel a few feet away, the sun on her red hair making it look like she was on fire. He couldn’t get a fix on her face or expression – she was just pale skin, juddering slightly, swirling indistinctly. Like an impressionist painting. He let his glasses fall back over his eyes. “Oh hey, Jailbait.” He replied hoarsely. Each word was like sandpaper in his throat, grating, stinging. He tasted bile again, felt the acrid sting of stomach acid trying to make an exit. It gave his voice a crackling unreal quality, like radio static – or maybe that was just him? His perception of reality was a little off right now, so he supposed he couldn’t be trusted to make observations about things. ”How’s it hanging?” He remembered belatedly that she’d asked him how he was, first. Oh well. He didn’t think there was any good way to answer that question, considering his current circumstances. He didn’t think, somehow, it’d be a good idea to admit to having no idea what day it was or how he’d got here or that he might be about to vomit. On some instinctive urge, he turned his arm inwards, inching it just a little out of her line of view, hiding the track marks. About the only thing he was certain of at this moment was that he’d recently been doing things she wouldn’t approve of. Jason was pretty convinced that his main appeal to women lay in the fact that he was a broken down mess. Women like to think they can change a guy, reshape him into whatever they want. He was sure that’s what Dillion had seen in him – this potential better man who didn’t exist, who never would. But she was young – so young, so fresh that sometimes he’d even felt guilty, as if he were taking advantage of her – and he found the younger a girl was, the more likely she was to believe she’d redeem him through the sheer magnitude of her compassion and that they’d live happily ever after. It was usually the realisation that this wasn’t going to happen which ended things. He thought maybe this was why things had ended with Dillion, that he hadn’t seen her in months – although, he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t really remember. He also had a vague impression of waking up with a woman, and someone else yelling at him about it. Or something. That seemed more foggy though, so it’d probably been before Dillion. He wasn’t sure. It was hard to keep track of the people who meandered in and out of his life, especially when trying to examine them through a haze of opiates and booze. note -- nah, it was good. ^.^ ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[DILLION DESI VITELA]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#f8f8f8; border-left: 40px solid #E0B1B1;] [/style][style=background:#827e7e; padding:5px; font-family:sans-serif; font-size:8px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; color:#ffffff;]next time i'll be braver. i'll be my own savior. when the thunder calls for me.   “Oh hey, Jailbait.” Rolling her eyes playfully, Dillion moved her legs to the side of her, not quite under her and placed her hands on her lap. She leaned towards Jason then brushed some sand gently off of his cheek. "That always drove me insane, you know." Her voice was soft and low as she let out a small laugh. He hadn't changed a bit, he was still a mess. Yet he was still someone she honestly cared about, even though she couldn't help him like the way she thought. Clearing her throat she dropped her hand and sat back to her previous spot. ”How’s it hanging?” Glancing out before her, she shrugged her shoulders before leaning back onto her elbows. "Just relaxing from a day off from work." The last time they had been in each others presence hadn't gone so well. Though she wasn't surprised that he didn't remember. That was one of the reasons they had gotten into a fight and ended it all. His drinking had always been bad, and seemed to only get worse being that she was trying to ease him off it. Chewing lightly on the inside of her lip, Dillion crossed her leg over the other and sat back up, somewhat surprised he had still not seen her baby bump. "I think we should go somewhere and talk." Dillion's eyes moved over towards his face, not too sure if he was up to it. Considering his condition, she wouldn't doubt if he wasn't. "We can go to my apartment, get you all washed up and I can get you some medicine." She cleared her throat as she studied his face. Taking care of him wasn't anything new for her and she didn't mind all that much. She just worried for his health. Dillion knew Jason probably saw her as a naive little girl, with all her hopes and dreams when reality had been so tough on Jason. Jason had never told her anything of his past, but she knew. She knew that those types of reactions could only be caused by immense pain. Pain she wished she could take away from him, but knew she couldn't. Dillion had, and still has, an incredibly soft spot for Jason, whether he's just a friend or anything more. And even though she had been gone for so long, it had only been in fear that the news would've made him upset, that he would've went back harder into the drugs, the alcohol. note: still not good. D: i'm sorry. i'm just like aksfhksdfhds cause tomorrow's the last day of school and finals. i should have much more muse after testing.c:   Coded by Juliet of RCR, ATF, SP, & Caution.

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out She leant forward. Jason didn’t have time to process the movement before her hand was on his face, gentle and soothing and surprisingly kind, brushing dried on sand from his skin. It was gone again before he could fully appreciate it. The gesture startled him, bizarrely intimate as it was, but he didn’t mind it. Kind of liked it, actually. A little human contact was nice, and his cheek felt cool where her hand had been – cool and faintly tingling, fizzing, almost –… Okay, he was still high. That was the only way the sensation made any kind of sense. “That always drove me insane you know.” “I know.” He ducked his head briefly, squinting his eyes almost shut in response to the glare of the sunlight on the sand and the water and Dillion’s hair. Even through the blacked-out lenses, it seemed intense. Painful. Was that just him again? No one else seemed to be having any trouble. He tried to pull himself together, squeezing his eyes so tightly shut that coloured spots burst into life in the blackness, then opening them again. The coloured dots were still there, and when he looked back up at Dillion she seemed to have a large splodge of yellow-tinged green hovering over her face. Weird. She said something else, but he was distracted by the green splodge hovering over. He blinked rapidly until it disappeared, and was fervently glad for the dark glasses that made it highly unlikely she could see what he was doing. “I think we should go somewhere and talk.” He heard that, all right. And something about the tone penetrated his brain, striking deep down through the layers of fuzzy semi-consciousness and hitting a chord. That was a very serious thing to say, and she’d said it gravely, and he was suddenly awash with certainty that she was saying ‘we need to talk’ in the way that girls say ‘we need to talk’ when they want to tell you they’re leaving you, or pregnant, or have an STI. Nothing good would come of this. He was calling that now. “We can go to my apartment, get you all washed up and I can get you some medicine.” Jason considered this. He knew he couldn’t stay on the beach indefinitely. And he knew from experience that Dillion was very good at putting him back together when he was like this – she’d done it a fair few times, she had the patience of a God damn saint. But she had said that they needed to talk, and he was scared about that. But… oh, fuck it, he couldn’t stay here forever and this was the best opportunity for help that was likely to come along. “Yeah.” He murmured. He brushed sand impatiently from his pants, mentally prepping himself for the small task that was ‘getting up when you’re so inebriated you don’t know which way up is’. “Yeah, let’s do that. Go and talk. In your apartment. Yeah.” He got clumsily to his feet, swayed uncertainly, then put a hand to his head just to make sure it was still attached. It was. That was good. note – ohh. good luck with finals! :]]] ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[DILLION DESI VITELA]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#f8f8f8; border-left: 40px solid #E0B1B1;] [/style][style=background:#827e7e; padding:5px; font-family:sans-serif; font-size:8px; text-align:center; text-transform:uppercase; color:#ffffff;]next time i'll be braver. i'll be my own savior. when the thunder calls for me.   Clearing her throat, Dillion positioned herself so that it would be easiest to get her and her baby bump up. The simplest things were a lot more difficult now than they had ever been, and she was only four months pregnant. Dillion grunted as she finally got herself up and steady, glancing over at Jason she smiled somewhat and gently grabbed his arm. There was no doubt he was completely hung over and still high. The least she could do was help him, especially with the brick of news she was going to dump on him in a few minutes. Dillion chewed on the inside of her lip as they walked in silence, never releasing his arm. They both wouldn't last one second, her being as nervous as she was and him being as hung over and washed out as he was. Did Dillion really want to do this? Ryan had been more the willing to help out with the pregnancy, should she even drag Jason into this mess as well? Would he even care? Or had he already been in this type of situation before? Taste of blood snapped Dillion out of her thoughts and she loosened her jaw from the grip it had on the skin in the inside of her mouth. Glancing over at Jason she licked her dry lips and kept her arm locked around his. "We're almost there."   Coded by Juliet of RCR, ATF, SP, & Caution.

[JASON KURT ASTOR]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] i'm all washed out by the side of the road broken bones matilda left a note with a rose saying baby honey child i love you so long but you deserve much better than me so i'm just burning all around all the miles on the road and i'm never going back and i'm never going home i been gone too long i been less right than wrong - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i lost so much blood in the falling out Jason was on the verge of sitting back down when Dillion grabbed his arm. A tremor of reality struck through him, anchored him to the present. Dillion was right there, holding his arm, leading him along like a child. She had something to tell him. He tried to gather his mind up into one place and hold it still, make it be reasonable, but trying to scoop up an erratic consciousness is no easy feat. Every time he felt like he had packed it all into a manageable parcel, it began to trickle away, like sand falling through his fingers, escaping… Sand. Sand everywhere. He was ridiculously sandy. Every step rubbed sand harshly into his skin, dragged his clothes over his limbs like sandpaper, rubbing him raw all over. The discomfort of this and the steadiness of Dillion next to him, holding onto his arm… Real things. Try and focus, try and focus, Jason... The sand. The regular rhythm of steps. Dillion next to him. Her hand wrapped around his arm. The sun shining off her hair – god, that was hypnotic. Strange and beautiful. Looking down on the top of her head was like looking at a planet. Like Mars. He was pretty sure Mars was red. He stared at the sun on her hair, the shifting strands, with undue awe. Eventually his eyes slipped to the rest of her, to the far-off look in her eyes and the grinding motion of her jaw. She was wearing a white dress. White dress. It made him think of brides and christened babies and churches and confirmations. He suppressed a shudder. He looked her over again and… was it his imagination or…? There seemed to be more of her. Had she put on weight? Her centre of gravity seemed lower. An unpleasant idea took root in his brain and began to nag at him: what if she was…? No. No. Not that. It wouldn’t be that. He lifted his free hand to his face, nudging his sunglasses up onto his forehead to clear his view. Just to check. Bright sunlight, painful sunlight, turning her dress glowing white, burning white, boring into his eye sockets… No. He still couldn’t see. Couldn’t tell. He let the glasses fall back into place. Dillion licked her lips. The gesture was anxious. He thought about reptiles. Lizards, lying on flat rocks, licking their scales, running their tongues over their eyes, into their brains… He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he should stop watching the nature channel while high. That might help. Regardless of all the lizards licking their own eyeballs somewhere or other, Dillion was looking at him right now. Saying, her voice very far away: “We’re almost there.” “Good.” Jason said vaguely. The rhythm of their footsteps was starting to make his brain hurt. The sidewalk was warping uncontrollably beneath his feet, swirling like a black hole. It was very hot, and he was very sandy, and Dillion’s hand on his arm was the only thing connecting him to the world. “I’m really sorry, Dill. I think I’m high. I can’t stop thinking about lizards.” He paused, shaking his head, then said again: “I’m sorry. We’re almost there?” ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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