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Post by jonathon on May 19, 2010 23:17:29 GMT -8
Jonathan laid there, caressing his shoulders as he listened to the fool sputter random idiotic facts. He didn't care, he really didn't. But he laid there, massaging his shoulders and sliding his hand down to his stomach. He got on his knees, kissing his chest. But as he looked into his eyes, he started to glare.
As soon as he was in a perfect position, he pounced. His hands wrapped around the boy's throat and he began to choke him. He was on top of him, his legs straddling Chance's body. This was how he killed his wife, and well, he thought he could get away with it again. He'd stick the boy back in his bed and go back to bed. He'd let Matt find him, and they would all know that he meant business.A slow grin came over his face as he thought about it.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 20, 2010 0:56:10 GMT -8
Chance was trying so hard to put himself somewhere else. He was trying to ignore every touch and every kiss. If he could do that, then none of this would bother him, right? He whimpered quietly to himself, trying to avoid real contact the whole time. When he did make it, however, he felt something purely foreboding before it even happened. It was like his stomach had dropped and he had that feeling like something bad was about to take place. It was so strange, but so consciously there right before the man got on top of him. Before he could say a word, hands were latched around his throat and he felt his air supply becoming restricted. He gasped, choking and reaching up to grab onto his arms. His nails dug in instantly, aware that that wasn't going to save him, but it wasn't what he was trying to do either. He didn't know that he would make it out of that. He wasn't a very strong guy. Chance was actually pretty thin and never really worked out anyway. So sinking his nails in was a way to defend himself if he didn't make it. They'd know it was him. He'd get the skin cells deep in and.. And he'd be dead. Sputtering, he squirmed beneath him.
"Please!" He coughed out, begging. There were tears already on his cheeks again, and he was trying to fight even if he knew it was futile. Chance didn't want to die. He was young and had so much potential. He knew that, but more than that, he just wasn't ready to go. "—Don't, please." He choked, barely able to make the words out. He was running out of air and didn't know what type of move could get him to stop. All he knew was that dying wasn't on his list of things he wanted to do.
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Post by jonathon on May 20, 2010 1:13:11 GMT -8
Jonathan pressed down harder, until he heard a thump. He looked up, relaxing his grip. The dark outside was beginning to lessen, which meant it was early morning. Some kid had thrown a paper at the house. He shook his head and looked down. "Then again, you might be able to keep the little brats in line," he said, referring to his siblings.
Jonathan kissed him once more and stroked his hair. "This is going to be our little secret, isn't it?" he asked as he licked his left nipple. He kissed his way up to his ear before nibbling on it. "Roll over," he whispered.It was time to have some fun, he decided.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 20, 2010 1:34:54 GMT -8
Oxygen filled his lungs as soon as the pressure was released. His lungs kicked into action and he choked by trying to take too much in. It added to the choking already caused by the crying that just worsened when he let go. Crying, he looked up at him and nodded, actually nodded at what he said. Because, he didn't want to die. He wanted to do anything not to die. The nod wasn't what was surprising though, it was the comment that came along with it, "—thank you." He didn't kill him, and he psychologically he should have been able to know what was mentally happening with him, but he couldn't keep track. It was the first time he kissed him that he didn't pull away or make a face and he nodded yet again. "A secret, yeah." He conceded, wiping at his eyes again. He shivered at his touches, but it worsened at his request. Oh, he knew what would come of that. Knew it immediately and felt his every muscle tense. "Over?" He looked even more nervous, but slowly flipped his body around so that his stomach was against the bed. Then, abruptly his arms folded right under his head, burying his face in them.
He still wanted to wake up from the terrifying dream. He wanted to sit upright in his bed and be safe as he ever had been. But no matter how many times he tried to will himself, he never exited it. He stayed in that dream, terrified of what was going to happen next. It wasn't even a dream. Chance knew that, even if he tried to pretend that it was.
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Post by jonathon on May 20, 2010 10:34:37 GMT -8
------......A WHILE LATER------
Jonathan laid beside Chance, his arm around him. He kissed his neck once more with a smirk.He had enjoyed himself thoroughly, even if Chance hadn't. But that was all that mattered anyways. It never mattered to him one tiny bit what the other person felt like. Jonathan's number one priority was Jonathan.
He could feel the first rays of sunshine coming in through the window above the bed. It warmed his skin and he siged deeply. He knew, though, that he couldn't relax for long. The kids would be getting up for school soon. And naively, each one of them thought that they were the only one. That was just fine with Jonathan; if they didn't know, they had nothing to tell.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on May 29, 2010 10:30:00 GMT -8
Nothing had happened fast for Chance. It was a blur of humiliation and pain, defined by crying, gritted teeth and palms that were now sore and red from his own nails digging in because he had clenched his fists so tightly. Tension, he realized was the worst course of action, but it was unavoidable. It hurt worse, but how he was supposed to relax went far beyond his vast comprehension. When it was all finished he let out a shuddering breath and buried his face back into the mattress again. He was running out of tears, to be honest, feeling too tired to really keep it up. When he finally quieted, not bothering to retract from his arm, he glanced over. His eyes, by now, were rimmed with red, but the wheels behind them hadn't stopped churning. In his eyes, Jonathan had made a huge mistake. Chance might not be strong and he might not be as socially adept as the rest of the world, but he was smart. He could scheme ways to make his life hell without even leading him back to him. Not to mention, the boy had connections. They were ones he never wanted to use, ones that he thought he feared more than anyone else, but Jonathan changed that. He became the bigger monster and the one that Chance felt needed to be taught a lesson. As submissive as he felt right then, it was incredible how his thoughts wandered. He could make his life slowly fall apart around him and in such subtle ways that he wouldn't catch on and couldn't, even if he wanted to. Chance was physically helpless, but it counted for very little when no one was touching him. And of course, he knew the truth behind him. He knew that he wasn't alone, he knew who and what Jonathan was. He didn't say it, of course, but he knew.
For all of that hatred, and all of that lust for vengeance that pulsed through him, Chance didn't show it. He looked down again, finding one of Jonathan's hands within his gaze. His body's reaction was still one of fear, one that didn't want to bring anything else on him. In a strange gesture, he ran his fingertips over the other male's hand, tracing it before his hand fell back to the mattress. "I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes momentarily. He wanted so badly to sleep, and to wake up and have it all have been a nightmare. That's all he wanted at all. He knew it was morning, and couldn't have cared less about it. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be. The one comforting thing was that he could make things happen. He wasn't half as helpless as he looked, at least not mentally. He would show him he wasn't like the rest of them... Well, without actually showing him at all. He didn't need him to be aware that he was doing anything at all. The gratification would come from his problems, not from the blame being on him.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2010 20:20:19 GMT -8
19 hours later.....
Upset and trashed was not a good combination for Grace. She never even went home that night. She had witnessed a murder; gone and run to her mentor; visited the ravine and consumed a ridiculously large amount of alcohol; went to church and offered some vodka to Jesus; and now she was at Jonathan's house. And no, she was not there for Jonathan. The girl didn't even know him. Instead, she was there for Chance. Grace picked up some rocks and threw them at a window. She was drunk and wanted romance. However, the window she threw rocks at did not belong to Chance. Instead, Jordan opened his window.
Grace giggled when he asked her who she was. "You're not Chance!" Jordan gave a misgruntled look and told her to go around and the room with the balcony was Chance's. He didn't even think about the fact that it was one in the morning. Grace staggered around and smiled up at it. It wasn't that hard to get to. Just right up a tree!
As drunk as she was, successfully climbing a tree should not have happened. Yet, somehow, she managed to get up into the balcony, falling on her hands and knees once she moved her legs off of the tree. She stood up and brushed her hands off. Next was the window. She opened it up and slid her right leg inside, and as she ducked her head in, she fell, knocking everything off of a nightstand as she did. Luckily, Chance was the only one in the room. Matt had refused to go home that night and was spending the night with Shayne instead.
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Post by Chance Del Rossi on Jun 19, 2010 23:22:20 GMT -8
Chance hadn't slept. He couldn't sleep. The scientist didn't want to close his eyes. All day, he stayed awake, trying to focus on anything and everything except for what happened the night before. He didn't want to address it. He wanted to repress the memory so deeply that not even his subconscious was affected. But, he knew it was impossible. Years of psychology courses told him it was impossible and that you couldn't just erase memories. Everything was buried. Unless he got a sudden wave of amnesia, but that didn't look like it was happening any time soon. Just because Chance understood how people should try to cope with problems didn't mean he practised any of it himself. He would much rather hide from memories. That night, he stayed awake, trying to focus on reading. Mechanisms of Action of Chemical Biocides. When Chance wanted to relax it wasn't fiction that he delved into. Although, he couldn't help but enjoy science fiction from time to time. But, his comfort books... they were scientific. They were books that most people wouldn't dream of picking up. But, there he was, reading it for fun.
Startled by the sudden sound, he sat up straight, literally gaping at the drunk girl in his room. "Grace!" He hissed in a low whisper, not wanting to rouse any attention elsewhere in the house. He rushed over and tried to help her up. "What're you doing?" He asked, not sounding angry, but instead concerned. It was concerning to see her suddenly falling from his window like that. In all honesty, Chance was positive that if anyone appeared in his window he would be more than shocked. "Are you drunk?" Obviously, she had to be. Not to mention, she smelled strongly of alcohol. He didn't mind the drinking. He wouldn't be one to talk, given that the reason he actually had to live with his dad was because of a night of mistakes from drinking. And maybe alcohol should have made it easier for him to understand why she was there. After all, a sober Grace probably wouldn't have climbed through his window.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 27, 2010 23:14:11 GMT -8
Grace stood up and looked down, eyes widened in horror. "I can replace that!" she yelled, referring to whatever it was that had broken. She looked in his eyes and tears brimmed in her eyes. She held her arms up and took a step back, literally ramming her legs in the nightstand she had tripped over. "I'm fine! My insides are all twisted up and you know what! I spilled VODKA on my pants cause I wanted to share with Jesus, and NOW I'm glad I don't have to work tomorrow cause what would I wear!" her voice was raised as she took a step further. "You're more sexier than Jesus, and you're not stuck on that thing, so what are you doing ALL the way over there, come hereee" she reached forward and grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, kissing him passionately. Her arms went around his neck and when she pulled away, the tears that brimmed her eyes were slowly falling down her cheeks.
"I think that you are the bestest. I love your little random stuff. Tell me something?" she slurred out, looking in his eyes. She didn't even notice that her body was crying involuntarily. Her head tilted, gazing up at him as she waited for him to tell her a random fact. She thought it was so adorable when he did that.
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