In His Light (Andy Biersack)

Chapter Six(Reasoning)

Chapter Six  

Okay, so after this one I'll be updating as soon as I can. I already had these written thats why they're up. So the ending is a bit...errr-random and graphic, I guess. But for some reason I felt it fit and hey, why not?

(Reasoning)

"Murey, darling why don't you show the class the first couple of steps to the lake performance." Mrs. Claire announced.
I effortlessly took center stage and spun, leaping to the right and then twirling into a downward glide on my slipper's tip. The back of my hands gracefully traced my cheeks up, unfolding in a circular motion.
The music was calm and settling, relaxing my spirit fully into the dance. I'd been dancing since I was eight, and never once had I missed a practice or lesson from my private instructor. Some people said I had what it takes to become a professional, others said there wasn't any talent behind it-just my mother blowing money on one of my dreams.
I turned, dragging my toe along the soft knotted wood, the beat becoming a bit darker. My hands lifted from my sides and up again, lifting me as I jumped into a full spin. I collapsed onto the floor, bending backwards onto my legs and twisting my abdomen in a painful motion.
"See how her expression is subtle enough to show the beauty of the dance, but reveals the emotion of it as well."Mrs. Claire whispered to the class.
I sunk onto my knees, crawling towards the large audience center, my head falling by my chest. The music lifted in a second, clicking with my moment of popping onto my toes again.
I sputtered sideways on my tips, my hands tracing up my neck and to my face. The music ended just as I threw my body down onto the ground again, falling in the make believe agony.
They all clapped, Mrs. Claire continuing to brag on my short performance and others from the past. I slowly got up with the pull of her hand, noticing his dark figure in the back behind the class. My throat clenched.
"Are you alright? Oh my! You look pale, sit down. Sit down."
A student set down a chair and I took it, never once taking my eyes off of him. What was he doing here?! How did he even know I was in ballet? His arms were covered in ink now.
His hair was falling to the side, his expression blank and terrifying. He resembled a lead singer to one of those punk/heavy metal bands, his pants black and tight, while he wore some leather vest with a high collar.
I was finding trouble in breathing, but when didn't I when he was around. I pried my gaze away from him and tried to focus on the younger girl moving along with the steps I'd just performed.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Mrs. Claire asked, her tone worried.
I nodded, knowing I probably looked like I was going to pass out, which really I felt like I was.
"You can go home, Murey. I don't want you dancing with a cold or the flu. Much too dangerous."
She gave me a small hug and let me go. I quickly ran into the changing room, Andy following behind.
"What are you doing here?" I panicked.
He leaned against the cream lockers, a crooked smile playing his lips. I slowly unlaced my ballet slippers, already wincing at the dozens of blisters and cuts that filled the surface of my feet.
"Your mom likes me."
I looked up at him in complete shock. He'd met my mother? When? What did he tell her? And how could she like him?!
"She told me you'd be here." He continued, eyeing my gross feet.
I wrapped them up in some gauze and then slipped on a pair of my Toms.
"I had no idea you were that flexible." He winked.
I felt my stomach flop in disgust. Could he go even a second without being suggestive? I still couldn't get over the fact that he was here.
"She said I was 'charming' and asked if I finished college."
"Uh huh?" I replied, clearly uninterested.
"I always finish."
I met his narrowing gaze of obvious seduction. I wouldn't even allow myself to think of us in that way. He was pretty rough when we just kissed..I couldn't even imagine-stop Murey.
I gulped and put my things back into my dance bag. I wasn't even going to let myself look at him now. Gosh, if he wasn't already scary enough, he had to go and get a ton of tattoos and dress even more..punkish? Was that the word? Maybe it was goth, but he wasn't really wearing makeup or those chains. Just a lot of bandanas, and...just scary stuff okay.
"You're checking me out."
I shot back, realizing I had completely zoned out while looking at him.
"I was thinking." I replied.
"Don't act like you don't like it." He winked. " And Ballet, really? I honestly thought you couldn't be anymore girly."
I rolled my eyes. He was pushing it. And that was coming from me, the girl who rather be walked on like a doormat, than actually speak up for once.
I pulled my bag over my shoulder and walked out, his rail body right beside me the entire time. I swear, I barely came up to his upper arm. Freaking giant.
I searched the parking lot for my mom's car. She hadn't let me drive since the day my car had broke down.
"Your parents wanted me to take you home." He smirked.
Wait-parents? He met my dad?! What the heck? I felt my legs rattling, as I walked behind him to his car. Had they seen his tattoos? Piercings? We're they blind to the obvious faults and his horrific personality?
I slid into the car and set my bag onto my lap. I could feel my sores leaking through my shoes. I still hadn't broken these slippers in. But, at least my injuries had started to feel numb.
"You scared?" He asked, his tone devious like usual.
"No." I lied bluntly.
"Yeah you are." He chuckled.
"No. I'm not."
"Don't like my tattoos?" He teased.
"I don't like you." I spit.
"Aren't we just a little grumpy."
I rolled my eyes and slouched back into my seat. I was trapped in the car with death in human form. And believe me, I wasn't ready to die yet. He turned the corner from my street and kept right.
"My house is back there."
"Yeah it is, isn't it."
He passed his tongue over his lip ring and looked over at my body drowning in nervousness. We pulled up to a suburban looked home, white fence and tall brick structure...almost like mine, but less huge.
He got out, immediately fishing out a cigarette to light. I stayed in the car, refusing to cooperate. I don't know what came over me. For once I didn't care he looked viscous and terrifying, I somehow managed to stand my ground.
"Come on." He laughed between the small space of his lips holding his cigarette in place.
I shook my head, gripping onto my bag in fear. Stay calm, Murey...he'll have to give up eventually right?
"Murey. Come on."
"I'm fine right here." I replied, swallowing down my trembling voice.
"No, come on."
I didn't respond. I just sat there frozen in my buried fear. He wouldn't hit a girl right? No, what was I thinking? This was Andy, he may be somewhat of a monster...but he wouldn't hit me. He knows how unfair that fight would be.
"Murey."
"Andy."
He bit onto his cigarette and opened the car door.
"Fuck this."
He grabbed me and hauled me over his shoulder, my legs dangling by his stomach. I pounded onto his back, only getting him to laugh at how defenseless I was.
"Put me down!" I screamed, remembering how deathly afraid I was of heights.
I swear my head was aching from how high up I was. How could you live this way?
He walked into the backyard, setting me down onto the plush grass. I winced with the pressure on my sore feet. I could hear laughter and talking from behind me and turned, only to have my jaw hit the ground.
"Sweetheart! How was dance?" My dad asked, sipping on a glass of ice tea.
"You know, Andy said you were a big reader. Why hadn't you ever told us? We could've bought you some books." My mother chimed in.
I felt nauseous. Maybe I had told you before and you just never payed enough attention to pick up on the obvious?
"My mother wanted to meet you." He whispered into my ear.
I felt my body shake with his deep voice trickling against the small hairs on my neck. I'm going to die.
A frail woman descended the porch from the left, her hair an ebise of ebony styled in a pixie cut. I watched her closely, examining the sunken features of her face and the shadowing near her eyes. She was sick.
She walked up to me with a warm smile, shaking my soul with the cool rigid blue of her eyes. She was just a female version of Andy it seemed.
"Hey hun. I'm Ricky."
I shook her hand, being pulled into a hug. I couldn't believe this was happening. Why would he have our parents meet? So they wouldn't sue when they found me dead in his bedroom or anywhere else he's been?
"You're gorgeous, not like Andy hasn't told me though." She smiled.
I turned to the side to see Andy holding the back of his neck and squinting his eyes. She'd embarrassed him obviously, and of course he wouldn't show it.
"You two have fun." She added, making her way to the table my parents were seated at.
I nodded, grateful I hadn't had to step into the conversation too much. Like I said, socializing wasn't my thing.
"Come on." Andy spoke into my ear again.
He took my hand and led me up the porch. I should've just jumped into their discussion...because now I was going into the house with Andy. And that was more dangerous than being in a cage with a freaking lion.
I followed him into his room, my eyes gawking at how clean and normal it was. He sat onto his bed, motioning for me to join him. I shook my head, too afraid to be anywhere near him in his room...alone.
"Murey. I'm not going to try anything."
I slowly crept over onto his black duvet, my feet slicing in pain. He moved his fingers back in the way that said "give me" to my feet. I shook my head. He wasn't going to touch me.
"Murey. Now." He growled.
I flipped up my legs, resting my feet in his lap. He gently removed my shoes and gauzes, staring at my feet with concentration. He moved off the bed and into his bathroom, coming back with a handful of medical things.
"This will hurt. But only for a while." He warned, cradling my right foot in his hand.
He pricked at my blisters and then coated them in some cream. I jerked in pain with each poke, trying with all my might to pull my foot away. But, of course that was no use with Andy.
"She just got back from rehab and I'm letting her stay with me." He mumbled, another clean pin pressed between his lips.
"Is she doing okay?"
"Uh, I want to say yes, but that'd be a lie."
I nodded, feeling my body sink with guilt. I couldn't get over how I constantly whined about my parents in front of him, and he was going through this.
"It started after my Dad died. She just fell into all these heavy drugs. I lived with my grandparents for a while, until she got somewhat on her feet. Then she just fell back into it when I graduated."
He pricked another blister and then poured peroxide onto one of my busted cuts.
"Fuck. Why would you dance if your feet turn out this way?"
"Same reason why you fight. I love it."
"No, my reasons are different. I can at least take the pain. You're crying."
I felt my cheeks, noticing how wet they were.
"Well why do you do it then?"
"Why do you dance?" He replied.
"I asked you first."
"Like I give a shit. Why do you dance?" "I, uh...it makes me feel calm. For some reason it melts away all my anxiety and I feel at home." I swallowed.
"Why do you have anxiety?"
"Always have I guess. Nothing ever seems to feel right."
He nodded and wrapped my feet up in a new gauze, his arms intriguing me with the movement of his punctured ink. His right arm was covered in smaller black and white crosses, sayings, and weird swirly things. While his left, was completely wrapped in a black catholic design, red seeping out of the dullness.
"When did your dad..uh."
"When I was twelve"
"I'm so sorry."
"Never apologize for something you can't control, Murey."
I nodded, once again feeling like an uneducated five year old. He placed my feet back onto the ground and pulled out a cigarette.
"You shouldnt smoke."
"I shouldn't do a lot of things." He smirked.
"Why did you meet my parents..and when?" I asked, trying to breathe through the thinning air.
"I went to pick you up, and your dad was out talking to one of your gardeners." He walked over and dug the end of his cigarette into an ash tray. "He came over and checked out my car and then your mom came out. At first she busted my ass about how strange or whatever the fuck I looked like. Then I played the nice card on her and they both...well still sort of hate me, but I believe they fell in love."
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, fell in love. I'm sure.
"Then they wanted to meet my mom, so I drove them over here. Your mom hit on me by the way."
I gaped at him. She mustve been a bit hungover from her dinner last night then. She always drank too much champaign.
"What did she-"
"She asked if it was big." He shrugged.
"I-oh my gosh. I can't believe-"
"Which, it is."
I couldn't think. My face was burning. Had he actually told my mother that? My freaking mother!? I got off his bed and made my way over towards the door.
"You're thinking about it." He teased.
I shook my head, my body suddenly smoldering under these lights. He walked over and ran his hand down my chest and stomach, breathing heavy in the crook of my neck.
His shoe stomped out his cigarette and I could hear him undoing his belt.
"Andy, no. I can't." I freaked, my breathing rushed.
He laughed and spun me around, dropping his jeans to reveal his black and red dotted boxers. I shut my eyes. This wasn't going to happen. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his thigh, his skin warm and soft.
"Stop shaking."
He stopped just when I knew I was going to touch...well you know, digging my hand into a long scar running through the inside of his leg.
"We were talking about the time I accidentally sliced my leg with a sword...Devin and I were messing around. She wanted to know how big the cut was."
I jumped back, my eyes still forcibly shut. My body was trembling and I was praying that'd I just catch my breath and return to normal. He yanked my hand back and kept it there, sliding it up and through his boxers farther.
I could hear his breathing steady into a heavy moan and he closed the space between us. His body was shuttering in a way I'd never seen.
"Don't pull away." He commanded.
I bit my lip, feeling tears sneak through my closed eyes. He moved my hair from my neck, taking my other hand and pressing it firmly on the space of his heart. It was beating uncontrollably.
"Andy-"
"Stop being afraid. I'm not going to hurt you."