|
|
Post by charlotte on Mar 1, 2012 18:40:45 GMT -5
Charlotte let him help her up considering she was too small to climb out on her own. She held the towel close, moving towards Devon. She looked up at him, looking small buried in the towel. She started to dry off, ringing her hair out into the towel. She pulled on the shirt the other boy had offered her. She looked down as it touched the floor. She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to get the tangles out. She walked back over to Devon, running her fingers through her long hair. She tried to climb up into his arms, but couldn't. She started crying, holding her arms up to him.
"Devon.. hold me.." She pouted, sticking out her bottom lip.
|
|
|
|
Post by devon splyce parker on Mar 1, 2012 18:49:53 GMT -5
Devon reached for a brush curiously, head tilting some as he brushed her hair out for her. When she started crying he picked her up, thinking of Chrystian's words. 'Don't you remember Devon? You killed her.' He whimpered faintly. "I didn't mean to..." He whispered, heading for his bedroom. He was afraid to stay the night here again, but it was too late to go back to the apartment. Hoping Dylan didn't come home, he set her on the bed and turned off the light before returning. Pulling off his dirty jeans, he slid beneath the blankets, pulling them over her too.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlotte on Mar 1, 2012 18:56:04 GMT -5
She curled up against him, burying herself under his arm. She wrapped her arms around him, missing her doll. She closed her eyes, her fingers tracing over the tattoos on his chest. She could barely see them, didn't understand what they were. But they were pretty colors. She hummed the old lullaby, snuggling close to him, pulling her knees into the baggy shirt.
"Go nigh-night. Sleepy tight." She sang to him, reaching up to pat his hair gently. "'N don't let the bed buggies bite. They gots big teeth." She opened her arms wide, then wrapped them around him again. "They goes 'om nom nom' on you when you're sleeping."
|
|
|
|
Post by devon splyce parker on Mar 1, 2012 19:06:58 GMT -5
Devon smiled faintly at her antics. "No bedbugs here.." He mumbled, yawning and closing his eyes. Just Dylan, right?
Soon he was drifting. Some time in the night the door opened, and he stirred, tensing as he stared at Dylan's tense figure. He fell utterly still, glad Dylan didn't seem to be in the most attentive mood, missing the fact that he was in bed. When the door closed again, he relaxed, sleeping easily the rest of the night.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlotte on Mar 1, 2012 19:16:31 GMT -5
Charlotte woke up the next morning, and spotted someone in the other bed. No one ever said the child wasn't curious. She climbed out of the bed, and into Dylan's. She looked at his tattoos, confused by the repeated three letters she didn't know. She had never learned how to read. She climbed over him, sitting at his head to play with his hair. She ran her fingers through it, wondering if he was her daddy. "Are you my daddy?" She asked, bending down only to notice he was still asleep. She scowled, crawling back over him to get out of the bed. She walked over to Devon's and climbed in. She patted him gently, trying to get him up.
"Devon. Meany head didn't give me back my dolly." She complained, crawling back into his arms. "Devon, can you be my daddy now?"
|
|
|
|
Post by sean michael cutler on Mar 1, 2012 19:21:09 GMT -5
Devon yawned faintly, hearing Dylan move about. He rolled over uneasily as Charlotte patted him. ""Your..daddy?" He mumbled. He watched Dylan shift his weight, and when their eyes met he tensed.
Agitation grew in Dylan's, hands clenching, but to Devon's relief-and surprise-he didn't go after him. "Now you're bringing fucking kids home?" His brother sneered. Devon bit his lip. He wanted to leave if Dylan didn't soon. He didn't want to be here.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlotte on Mar 1, 2012 19:30:08 GMT -5
Charlotte nodded. "Yeah." She looked over at the other man, wrapping her arms around Devon. "Shut up. You're mean." She told Dylan, eyeing him defiantly. She didn't like him, or his tattoos she couldn't read. Her dark eyes never wavered from his, and she pulled one of Devon's arms around her.
"He's MINE." She yelled, narrowing her eyes. She laid back against Devon, looking over at him. "Can I have my dress and dolly back now?" She asked him, having no intentions of hunting down the other boy to go get them back. She didn't want to leave her Devon with the other boy.
|
|
|
|
Post by devon splyce parker on Mar 1, 2012 19:37:21 GMT -5
Dylan growled faintly, getting up. He paused by the bed, striking Devon across the face before leaving. Devon whimpered faintly, but it was better than how he was usually treated. He watched him go, waiting for the front door to close. When it did he got up, rubbing at his cheek, and fixed his pajama pants, gazing at his wrapped arms, the gauze strained with lines of dried blood.
He took her hand. "What's your name?" He asked quietly, stopping in the hall and opening the dryer so she could get her things.
|
|
|
|
Post by charlotte on Mar 1, 2012 19:47:11 GMT -5
"DON'T HIT MY DEVON!" She screamed at him, watching him with a glare as he left. She grabbed his finger, following him to the dryer. She took her doll and dress in her spare arm, squeezing his finger harder.
"Charlotte." She told him, looking up at him. Her hair had dried and curled into ringlets down her back. She let go of his finger long enough to change back into her dress, then she grabbed his finger again. She pointed to the fading tag on the back of her doll. Someone had read it to her, but she only remembered her first name.
"You're not gonna be my daddy?" She asked, tugging on his finger.
|
|
|
|
Post by devon splyce parker on Mar 1, 2012 23:14:43 GMT -5
"You don't have one?" He tilted his head, stomach growling faintly. Walking towards the kitchen, he found Chrystian cooking bacon and smiled, licking at his lips. He led her to the couch in the living room. "Chrys, can I?"
He pointed at the television. "Of course Devon, you don't gotta ask when Dylan's gone..."
He reached for the remote, turning it on.
|
|
