The clicking of high heels announced Aries' arrival with a flourish, the soft pop of his bubble gum appearing before his lips with an indignance. The white of his hair crowned him in a beatiful mass of braids that held a ponytail that fell to the back of his knees. His sparkling silver-blue eyes dragged the colors away from the very paintings that surrounded him. He stopped to look at one in particular of a girl, and his lips coiled at the sides up into a small smile. Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence.. you dog...
He stepped away and into the main room, the leather of his tight black pants as they brushed against his thighs making a sound that had become familiar over the years. Across his chest was a tight, studded vest, and his neck was adorned with a small choker with a white diamond in the center. Resting on the bridge of his nose, a pair of sunglasses, which he reached up to retrieve. He slid them into the bag at his side as he smiled, and the light that flooded through the windows this morning was bright as it had ever been, almost ignoring that there had been a war here... at all.
"Knock, knock, Lawrence!" His soft voice rose to echo around the room, deeper than a womans but higher than a mans, making it as androgynous as the rest of him, "If you've another in your bed then I should like to meet her and have my fill of her hair for my voodoo dolls!" His laughter was lighthearted, but to someone who didn't know him, Aries sounded dead serious in his threatening joke.
Edited by: Aries at: 7/6/07 10:09 pm
There was a horrible scooting noise as Lawrence moved an easel around in the storage room, then immerged, his chest covered with what seemed to be a smeared on painting of the desert, though it was hard to make out. Black jeans sat low on his hips, held up by a strange belt with an almost feminine copper buckle. Aside from that, he was bare, bare-chested, bare-footed and covered with paint. The rest of the gallery was quiet, as Lawrence padded out, his legs long and slim. The artist was finely muscled, the wiry type of strength that suggested rather than lifting heavy things, he was kept fit by swimming or something other physical exercise in that field. Slightly irritated, his cheeks were flushed, and he looked all the part of the brooding, angry artist, though he tried to be amiable.
“It seems that my canvases now have a mind of their own and after I’m finished painting them, they throw themselves at me like cast off lovers.”
The Italian’s accent was thick despite his years here, growing stronger whenever he was angry or distressed. Easily irritated by things that didn’t go according to plan, Lawrence could be a handful when he had an off day and despite the casual air he put on, this was definitely an off day. His mind was swimming with self-hatred and the sheer need to keep it all together. The appearance of the white haired man, however, perked him up considerably. He hadn’t seen Aries in far too long, he supposed his business and generally moodiness had kept him away. The artist attempted a smile at him, a long, slow grin as he pushed his hair back from his face. Unfortunately, Lawrence’s hand was still full of paint and he only succeeded at making the right half of his face and forehead a brilliant blaze of violent red and violet.
Re: Knock Knock, Lawrence.
Aries whirled around to face the voice, a smile on his lips so very bright that it might have knocked the very sun out of the sky and claimed itself the new world light source, and then he saw him, and his smile faded a bit. The paints that covered Lawrence were cute, but it was the look in Lawrence's eyes that drew the unicorn's happy moment to a standstill. Aries had never dealt well with unhappiness. He cried like a babe, got angry rarely, and oftentimes dealt with other people's sadness the same way he did his own--eat ice cream and whine--which he would probably proceed to do again as this time had proven him no more mature than any other. The click of his heels proceeded him as he closed the distance between them, reaching his perfectly manicured fingers into those pretty swaying locks of 'Rence's, all to lean to the side and plant a healthy kiss of greeting on the not-so-painted half of Lawrence's face.
"You look like positive Hell, Grimmel, and moody as ever." Aries eyes did another once over and searched the whole place for a sign of brown hair and chocolate eyes that would announce his wife, for whom Aries held a particular dislike, but found nothing. Curiosity piqued, but Aries forced it down into his gut, for he had no doubt that it was partially the source of his mood and that Lawrence would tell all if he wanted to, as he always did. Aries had no intent to push anything out of him simply for the gluttony to know the answer.
"Your paintings are beautiful as always, though, even if they do seem to want to make babies upon you." He pressed the pad of his index finger to his lower lip with a soft pout as he observed Lawrence's stomach with an obvious look of critique, "I think this area over here could have used a little more blue tints, don't you?" He pointed to the left, lower plane of Grimmel's stomach, right to the side of his belly-button. A playful look crossed his eyes again and he hoped to turn the lights up on the mood but held no ideas of grandeur about the success he would garner.
Lawrence was a man of few words as he moved random things around, adjusting some of the paintings hung on the walls, as if any of it would make a difference in the end of all things. Thoughts banged around in his head, guilt, hate, fear, unrequited love, all of them. It didn’t matter if he’d screwed up from time to time, shouldn’t his well-meaning ways have said a lot more for him than the few mistakes he did make. He almost always owned up to them, apologizing profusely for his ill-tempered words before anything happened. He’d apologized to her, kind of at least, and yet, she’d still fled. Now, guilt and responsibility, more than the fabled love drug, caused him to trip over his words and paint like there would never be another tomorrow. The tender-hearted artist hated the fact that he’d taken advantage of a mere girl only a little less than the voice in his head that declared that she’d asked for it. That voice, that bit of darkness in his soul was what he truly hated.
“I fucked up, Aries. This girl, the one in the paintings. She came here and I thought that I could help more than I could hurt but I was completely and totally wrong. I.. She.. We.. We had sex, I guess I devirginized her in a way. I got mad, told her that it was a mistake and left. When I came back, she was just.. Gone.”
The artist wasn’t necessarily thinking about what he was saying, the words poured out of him like a dam bursting, his voice a little too raw, a little too violent. It wasn’t just the situation with Chance that was eating him from the inside out, but the knowledge that his love was never enough for anyone. No matter how hard he loved, no matter how much he gave, at the first mistake he made, they’d run. At the first moment he had to go away, they’d sleep with the enemy. Men weren’t supposed to feel like this, no, they were meant to roll with the blows and forget that anything had ever happened. They were supposed to adapt and yet, he didn’t have the ability to forgive and forget. He couldn’t do that for anyone, not only himself.
“I was stupid to think that love would walk through my door so easily. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”
Re: Knock Knock, Lawrence.
Aries fought with his internal dismay and the dismay he read on Rence's face. The unicorn listened, but the irritation in his mind was grand in the worst way. Another girl? Why always another girl? Taking advantage of him every time.. The irritation welled up over Aries and grasped at his throat like an angry lover. He didn't analyze it--didn't want to know how much of it had to do with jealousy and how much of it just had to do with the fact that he hated seeing Lawrence so down about everything. It always ended like this.. and it didn't help that Aries himself had seen her.. out in the woods.. Chloe had followed some other boy out there--and Aries had known he was one of the enemy. He was .. always so angry.
"Why do you do that?" A shadow had fallen over the face of the boy. The silence filled the room like a dark, ominous cloud, "why do you allow women to do that to you? They come in here, use you, and you feel the need to.. to apologize to them afterwards. After that whore of a wife of yours, you'd think you'd have learned. Not a single one of them deserve your apology or your guilt! Damnit, why don't you see it?"
Tears spilled from his cheeks--and Aries wasn't truly aware of them. He really just didn't know they were there. The anger and the jealousy just spilled over, rippling through his muscles as he gripped tightly the leather of his pants in his fingers to keep him from swinging himself about in a raging, mindless tantrum.
Re: Knock Knock, Lawrence.
“That doesn’t mean I loved her any less. No matter what anyone says about her, about the things she did, for a moment she was mine and I loved her with all that I am. You can’t hate someone who you’ve held so tightly to your body that it felt as if you might merge into one being. You can’t despise someone for their mistakes because the Lord knows if someone hated me for mine, I’d be a doomed creature. I love unconditionally and if that’s a mistake, I don’t care. At least I have something inside that I consider worthwhile.”
Lawrence’s voice was low, quiet, thoughtful as he spoke. His head hung downward, his locks falling into his eyes and covering his face. His thoughts were numb, minimal as he put everything in his body toward that one speech. The smell of his own soap fluttered through his nostrils, strong and masculine as he had always preferred. His face was flushed only slightly as he clenched his fists, opening them and closing them. The dried paint on his chest began to flake as he attempted to control his breathing, almost making himself pass out as he forgot to take breaths. The artist was absorbed in the pain of loss, of the loss of Chloe, of Chance, of himself somewhere along the line. Perhaps it was better to be alone than to ever feel like this, but being alone meant being empty and he simply could justify torturing himself. He loved people, the curve of a woman, the smile of men as they told dirty jokes. It was a platonic love, though when romance found its way into his system, it rooted deeply in his soul. His eyes ached, suddenly, intensely as he felt a wave of sadness pass through his body that he couldn’t merely push away. A soft groan left his body as tears began to fall from his eyes. They moved over his cheeks like the rains in the desert itself, wetting naturally tanned skin in simple streaks. A sob shook the artist’s body violently, and he turned to face the back wall of the gallery, an abrupt, almost military styled turn.
Re: Knock Knock, Lawrence.
The order hit him like a punch to the gut, but Aries took it with the most grace he could muster... he cried, "Lawrence... I... but... I...." He shook through his sobs, but drew in his breath and closed his eyes in that shaken moment. He pivoted and put his back to Lawrence, and he took a deep, unbroken breath, "It's okay, you know. I'll come back anyway..." He whispered, "And you don't owe me anything. Love you." The click of his heels announced his exit, with the door shutting softly behind him. Outside, Aries nervously raked his fingers through his wavy white hair and stared downward with clouded-over eyes, wide with pain and a bit of insanity. He'd never made Lawrence angry enough to throw him out... and how much better was he than them, anyway? Trying to take advantage of the boy while he was sad.. the same.. I did the same thing.
But I didn't leave with some vampire.. and I didn't actually take advantage, I just told him the truth-- The voice inside his head retorted back to him, and his pain turned to anger again, hissing back at the two women, She did.. and she'll do him like Chloe, too. He'll go up and apologize to her, and she'll throw herself at him, and he'll take her... Aries bit his lower lip, scraping lipgloss off of it with his teeth in the frantic movement as he turned his eyes toward the sky and watched the sun pass beneath the clouds as they trailed above him.
Re: Knock Knock, Lawrence.
The door banged closed in slow motion, the sound of clanging bells and apologies moving in slow motion around Lawrence, his eyes burned with the tears as they hit his cheeks, burning with each drip. The salty droplets moved down his sensual lips, petal soft but bitten between rows of teeth as he tried to hold himself together, tried to tell himself that men never cry like this. “Faggot.” His father’s voice was harsh inside his head, his glowering eyes fresh in his memory, as if he was cursing him at sixteen years old instead of a grown man in this time and place. Each breath was torture as it tore in and out of his lungs, his entire body constricted to try to keep the pain inside. His hand rested on the counter, but soon, he was sliding down against it, his knees hitting the ground first as his forehead rested against cool stone. He tried for a moment not to feel, to block it all off, but it was no good. He’d spent too long trying to be strong and getting nothing in return but people that he hurt turning on him. Now, even Aries had been hurt by him but self-loathing was nothing compared to the hurt. The hurt that had lasted in him forever, the same hurt that had taken his life on that one fateful night. Over what? Over someone who didn’t love him, who couldn’t love him merely because of who he was inside. An angry sob, a half growl left his throat as he banged his head against the counter, not enough to hurt himself, but just enough to feel that he was in fact real.
For some reason, he seemed to be losing himself in the flood of everyone else around him and for now, he just wanted it to stop. He simply wanted everything to stop.
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