Vignette

1

He notices her one day. It had been just a regular day, classes and writing. But as he looked up from his textbook, there she was. All raven curls and golden eyes. She's different to the girls she was with. One was donned in delicate reds and girlish pinks, her long skirt almost puffy. The other in lilac, olive skinned and supermodel good looks. A third in green and blue, far too much jewlery and sophisticated hair for a simple day of lessons. The last appeared to be the youngest, blonde hair in braids, casually dressed, like her. But she seemed to be the most beautiful, effortless, almost. A simple black t shirt and destroyed Jean's, spiked boots and unstyled hair. A faux leather jacket lay on the back of her seat, destroyed and loose, flimsy and unkempt, full of spikes and studs, pins and badges. A stunning beauty mixed with a rugged handsomeness that enthralled him, and he willingly fell into a spell she didn't even know she'd cast.

Her friends left the moment the bell rung. But she lingered, languidly placing books and cases into an equally rugged and raggedy denim backpack, complete with rips and studs, badges and stitches. The walked to a beat of her own, carefree and languid. He watched her, the beauty accentuated by her nature, a gentleness that was almost therapeutic.

He reached for her, grasping a porcelain arm that was so soft. She didn't deny him, slowly looking up at him through her lashes. He breathed in slowly, looking deep into the golden-green depths of her eyes. She shyly smiled at him as he stuttered his own introduction. Her voice melodic and soft as she stated her own name in turn. His fingers slipped down from her bicep to her fingers. She didn't deny him.

They talk for a few weeks, her time slowly transitioning from her old friends to her new friend. He was such a mystery to her, she the same to him. Mysterious and enchanting, intoxicating and seducing. He knew he had to know her more, not just her favourite Netflix series or her preference to Indian and Chinese foods than Chinese or Tiwanese. She the same. There was something so different about him. She had to delve deeper into this new figure who was thrust into her life. She didn't want to let him go. So when he asked her on a date, she didn't deny him.

They went to a movie theatre. Far from a cheesy comedy or a laughable romance, the action blared across the large rectangle. They watched the fast cars and the explosions with rapt attention, sharing from the same popcorn basket and testing the difference between the blue iced drinks to the red. He claims hers tastes better, but keeps to himself the fact that he enjoys the indirect kiss as they sipped from the same straws. And when the movie was over, he took a hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. She didn't deny him.

They ate pizza together. They laughed about the movie they had seen and joked about the antics of their comrades. Her voice was gentle and sweet as his provided a rougher count beat. The lights had long been dimmed. The cheese covered base kept coming and coming, different concoctions of vegetables coating each one. The beer and wine flowed freely, thanks to a nod from him to the owner. She didn't deny him.

They walked hand in hand upon the riverside as they made their way home. They licked their ice cream cones as they talked about nothing and everything as the stars blanketed the sky above them. They stopped at a park, his jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders as he pushed her own the swings and caught her upon the slide. She giggled, helping him wrap his hands around the fire man's pole and the money bars, both giggling in delight at the reclaimed childhood. He stroked the grass out of her raven locks. She didn't deny him.

They shared their first kiss underneath the zipline. She didn't deny him.

Within the month, the two are inseparable. Her friends wine at her, claiming to never see her any more, but she took no notice of their words. Not the way they claim to not understand the way he dresses, the music he listens to and the books he reads. She clapped back, claiming to have him understand her without judgement better than they ever did. She refused to listen to their protests that they were trying to protect her, nothing more. Their words were shrugged off as she turned her back on them and walked straight to her love, taking his hand and kissing his lips, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her. She didn't deny him.

They explain to them their darkest secrets and moments. He shares with her the fact his father cheats on his mother notoriously, even a few dozen bastards, as well as his several siblings. He shares how his mother knows but pretends otherwise for the little ones, enjoying her lifestyle too much to say something to her husband. He shares his mothers pain and her hatred of his father's mistress, one of his father's favourite son's mother.

She shares with him the emotional neglect her mother harms her with. Her sadness of having grown up without her real father, whom had died when she was a newborn. She shares of the abuse her household is subjected to, a drunken mother and multiple step fathers, almost a dozen half siblings and a severe lack of stability in her life, mothering the youngest children as their own drinks herself to death whilst her latest boyfriend plays punching bag with her children and orphaned step children.

He holds her whilst she cries and promises to make it all better. But in this world, they are powerless. But they are no longer alone.

He shares with her the scars in his psyche and on his body. She rolls her sleeves up to match his. They see the demons in their eyes and they are not afraid.

At night, they kiss each others scars and wipe away the blood. They hid from the demons in each others arms. From the monsters both inside their heads and outside their minds. They kissed the bruises on each others flesh and in each others minds. Their wounds closed at dawn, the scars no longer ugly and mangled and untamed. They made love from dusk to dawn, falling asleep in each others arms, their limbs wrapping around each other like branches winding together. This was their refuge, their respite and their relief.

Because they are the proof the broken things can still be beautiful.

~~

Hey everybody!

Your favourite girl is back! I had an amazing birthday on the 26th, and the rest of my girls week was just as fun. I had an amazing time and a nice respite, but it's good to be back!

Anyway, this little piece was a random thing that I wrote whilst we were travelling to where we were going on my birthday. As we all know, I'm obsessed with Reign and Frary, so I couldn't resist publishing it for all of you! How did you like it? Comments please! I missed them on my little break!

Updates for Tampered Beauty will start again real soon, and another for Rebirth will be up a day or so after this little oneshot was published, and after I finish up Rebirth, I've got a super wierd companion piece to it that's kinda stupid, but I really wanna get some feedback on it. After that, Bitter Reality and Way Down We Go will be centre stage! So, I hope you all enjoy them!

Really obsessed with modern frary oneshots at the moment, so you may get a couple more of these before long!

That's about it for now, so I hope to see you all in the future!

Love you all,

C

:)