Status: Just a little cute something that'll be written when inspiration or boredom occurs.
Breaking Suburbia
Chapter Seventeen
The sun rose that day like any other day since the beginning of time. It was quite a sight, the hues that blended so perfectly together. The purples, the turquoise, the tangerine values, the innocent pink swirled in an affectionate blazing sunrise that didn’t move Maggie anymore than a typical sunrise did. But, by God, it was still beautiful.
She watched the dew as it rolled down her window, the fog of the morning dwindling around the cliffs in the far distance she could observe from the second story. Along the rocky hills was some vineyard supposedly; she’d never been. Carefully, she sipped the naturally acidic tea with cautious ease, forgetting to savor the beverage completely. As she realized the draftiness that tickled her bare arms, she also noticed that the summer was slipping away. This beautiful summer that opened her heart up to so many new textures, the experiences that starkly breathed vitality into the anxious bones of her fleeting youth. Maggie felt empowered by the summer, but already sensed the clouds following her for when the delicacy ended. Staring at the guitar calendar that Chester insisted she keep up, it was merely three weeks until Chester embarked to university once again.
With a simple sigh, Maggie continued to flip through the pages of her notebook, looking at all of the names she’d received from the internet missing persons lists and the plot lines she’d written under the vague descriptions of the affected individuals. These things that once intrigued her failed to fuel her curiosity any longer, she even tried to skim a brief story. Nothing came out of it.
So Maggie tossed the leather bound notebook into the trashcan, not caring about the time or the effort she had crafted into the pages. With a new life, she’d moved beyond the terrors and entertainment of the unknown. Unlike those who were lost, she was found. Whether growing up is a good thing or a bad thing, Maggie couldn’t care less as she slovenly paced around the house.
She knew this paradise, though it was honestly far from it, wouldn’t last forever. Whatever it was that made her so normal, it was going to be gone when Chester left. It sort of made her gloomy, but she reminded herself that she might as well relish the time that they had. Three weeks was better than never knowing the boy at all.
Maggie loved the idea of love, the idea of a new start with someone, anyone. She didn’t who Chester really was, but she knew that he was a decent person that she could respect and tolerate. You can learn to love just about anyone; you just can’t get close to them.
His hand playfully touched the back of her neck, hitting her in the spot that made her convulse in childish giggles. It was a divine dance between the two and Maggie swore it was heaven. To touch and be touched, to have that reminder that yes, she was still alive and tangible; everything about this instant they shared on Maggie’s bed was just so faultless.
“No, E minor seven is not a barre chord.” He encircled her wrist, moving the girl’s quavering arms up the neck of the guitar. He seemed to notice, but insisted on brushing against that spot on her neck again before he rested the palms of his hands on her hunched shoulders. “Relax.” He quietly urged, the whisper of his order circling in her ear. Gently, he guided her to lean back onto his chest. Naturally, Maggie did the exact opposite as she became more rigid and terse, her fingers anxiously cutting into the guitar strings.
She shoved the guitar from her arms, pulling her knees in towards her chest. Chester twisted his limbs around her midsection. “You’re so cold.” He breathed into her ear. “I’m holding winter.” He chuckled.
Maggie rolled her eyes as she made a conscious effort to calm her nerves. Chester’s warmth felt so odd against her icy skin, yet again another reminder of how they were so different from each other. “Do you know that whenever you talk that it’s hard not to fall half in love with you?” Maggie spoke in a daze, an uncomfortable daze of euphoria that coated her reason.
“I’ve never been told that, but it sure does help my ego.” Chester smiled. That’s what enveloped Maggie—the fact that someone so warm and ambitious could sit there and hold an icicle in their arms and enjoy the moment.
With a deep breath, the haze that had laid itself over Maggie intensified. The phrase jumped around her tongue. Reason told her no, but the passion begged of her to strip that final layer of emotional armor off. “You don’t have to feel the same way.” Maggie began anxiously. Her head was spinning. Consequently, she pressed her cheek onto the flat pane of his chest for support. “But, I actually love you.” Maggie exhaled in a whirlwind of severe emotions she hadn't felt before.
Chester blinked. One blink was all it took to make the tears forming in Maggie’s eyes fell silently. For the first time in a long time, she was utterly vulnerable. All of those intricately crafted walls and the burdens of steel armor were relieved from the girl’s delicate shoulders. “I love you too Maggie, I really do.”
Nothing was of importance after those words were uttered. Following the exchange of a hopeful future, Maggie closed her eyes and eventually dosed off into a peaceful, blackening slumber in the warmth wrapped around her. There was no need for the tears that did fall, but they were there anyways. Some things are just there.
She watched the dew as it rolled down her window, the fog of the morning dwindling around the cliffs in the far distance she could observe from the second story. Along the rocky hills was some vineyard supposedly; she’d never been. Carefully, she sipped the naturally acidic tea with cautious ease, forgetting to savor the beverage completely. As she realized the draftiness that tickled her bare arms, she also noticed that the summer was slipping away. This beautiful summer that opened her heart up to so many new textures, the experiences that starkly breathed vitality into the anxious bones of her fleeting youth. Maggie felt empowered by the summer, but already sensed the clouds following her for when the delicacy ended. Staring at the guitar calendar that Chester insisted she keep up, it was merely three weeks until Chester embarked to university once again.
With a simple sigh, Maggie continued to flip through the pages of her notebook, looking at all of the names she’d received from the internet missing persons lists and the plot lines she’d written under the vague descriptions of the affected individuals. These things that once intrigued her failed to fuel her curiosity any longer, she even tried to skim a brief story. Nothing came out of it.
So Maggie tossed the leather bound notebook into the trashcan, not caring about the time or the effort she had crafted into the pages. With a new life, she’d moved beyond the terrors and entertainment of the unknown. Unlike those who were lost, she was found. Whether growing up is a good thing or a bad thing, Maggie couldn’t care less as she slovenly paced around the house.
She knew this paradise, though it was honestly far from it, wouldn’t last forever. Whatever it was that made her so normal, it was going to be gone when Chester left. It sort of made her gloomy, but she reminded herself that she might as well relish the time that they had. Three weeks was better than never knowing the boy at all.
Maggie loved the idea of love, the idea of a new start with someone, anyone. She didn’t who Chester really was, but she knew that he was a decent person that she could respect and tolerate. You can learn to love just about anyone; you just can’t get close to them.
His hand playfully touched the back of her neck, hitting her in the spot that made her convulse in childish giggles. It was a divine dance between the two and Maggie swore it was heaven. To touch and be touched, to have that reminder that yes, she was still alive and tangible; everything about this instant they shared on Maggie’s bed was just so faultless.
“No, E minor seven is not a barre chord.” He encircled her wrist, moving the girl’s quavering arms up the neck of the guitar. He seemed to notice, but insisted on brushing against that spot on her neck again before he rested the palms of his hands on her hunched shoulders. “Relax.” He quietly urged, the whisper of his order circling in her ear. Gently, he guided her to lean back onto his chest. Naturally, Maggie did the exact opposite as she became more rigid and terse, her fingers anxiously cutting into the guitar strings.
She shoved the guitar from her arms, pulling her knees in towards her chest. Chester twisted his limbs around her midsection. “You’re so cold.” He breathed into her ear. “I’m holding winter.” He chuckled.
Maggie rolled her eyes as she made a conscious effort to calm her nerves. Chester’s warmth felt so odd against her icy skin, yet again another reminder of how they were so different from each other. “Do you know that whenever you talk that it’s hard not to fall half in love with you?” Maggie spoke in a daze, an uncomfortable daze of euphoria that coated her reason.
“I’ve never been told that, but it sure does help my ego.” Chester smiled. That’s what enveloped Maggie—the fact that someone so warm and ambitious could sit there and hold an icicle in their arms and enjoy the moment.
With a deep breath, the haze that had laid itself over Maggie intensified. The phrase jumped around her tongue. Reason told her no, but the passion begged of her to strip that final layer of emotional armor off. “You don’t have to feel the same way.” Maggie began anxiously. Her head was spinning. Consequently, she pressed her cheek onto the flat pane of his chest for support. “But, I actually love you.” Maggie exhaled in a whirlwind of severe emotions she hadn't felt before.
Chester blinked. One blink was all it took to make the tears forming in Maggie’s eyes fell silently. For the first time in a long time, she was utterly vulnerable. All of those intricately crafted walls and the burdens of steel armor were relieved from the girl’s delicate shoulders. “I love you too Maggie, I really do.”
Nothing was of importance after those words were uttered. Following the exchange of a hopeful future, Maggie closed her eyes and eventually dosed off into a peaceful, blackening slumber in the warmth wrapped around her. There was no need for the tears that did fall, but they were there anyways. Some things are just there.
♠ ♠ ♠
I'mmmm baackkk!