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Post by Bear on Jul 26, 2010 1:00:14 GMT -5
The young, experienced bird hesitated along the border of Bronx, his weary blue eyes searching the streets and buildings before him as if looking for the answers of a very complicated question. He turned uncertainly to look behind from where he came, not sure whether to cross the line or stay where he was, in the same downward slope, in the same confusion, hurt, and depression. But it was time he faced his problems, or one of them at least. He was tired of moving backwards. He had to push on. He couldn't go on forever wondering, wondering what would have happened if he had just explained his problems to Tootsie, what he was going through. If he hadn't broken her heart and walked away. His eyes clouded with pain beneath his gray hat as he recalled the words he had spoken that day three months ago. "It's not you, it's me."
How was she supposed to believe such a thing? It was so typically said during break ups that it almost seemed to be a fake excuse to cover up everything underneath. That hadn't assured her of anything, it probably just made her feel worse. If only he had looked past his own troubles, to realize that he was making probably the worst mistake of his life...but he hadn't. He had broken her heart, made weak promises, and then walked away at her request. And now he felt like he didn't even know her anymore...he didn't even know himself. He couldn't stand it anymore. All the guilt, all the pain. Somehow he had to make things better. Somehow he wanted so badly to find the last few missing pieces he had stolen from Tootsie's heart and put them back together. Maybe she had recovered the pieces herself though. Maybe she had rid him from her heart altogether. Maybe she didn't even care about his promise anymore, she probably didn't want him to come back.
But he couldn't wait around, wondering forever whether she had moved on or still wanted him. He wouldn't be able to blame her if she didn't. He didn't expect her to wait around for him to find his way back. Maybe he couldn't have Tootsie any more, but if only they could still hold onto the relationship, the chemistry and friendship that had started everything in the first place. That would be better than nothing at all. Than the emptiness he often felt. He still cared for her, for her well being and safety. He just had to let her know. Had to see her face again, no matter how still and lifeless it might could be.
He made his way to the Bronx Lodging House that had become almost as familiar as his own over the days he had seen Tootsie. His head was lowered, his hands in his trouser pockets as he watched the shadows slide over the sidewalks as the sun was starting to lower itself behind the buildings. He didn't pay mind to the people who walked around or past him. As he walked his troubled mind was moving from thought to thought. It felt like the weeks since he last saw Delight were months and the months since he last spoke to Tootsie were ages. He thought of what he would find at the Bronx lodging house and he prayed it would be Tootsie, not a broken girl hiding behind a faceless mask. He wanted to see the life sparkling in her brown eyes again, the laughter and excitement that used to bubble from her lips. He wanted to hear her voice say his name. He just wanted to see her, even if it would be for the last time.
He was trying to tell himself he wasn't just there for Tootsie, or to put his heart at ease. Spot would want to know how the borough was coping, how they fared against the tragic fire at Irving Hall, how they were holding up, how many they had lost. Then even if things went poorly he could say it hadn't been a waste of time. Approaching the front door, he stared at the window from where he stood. The curtain hung lifeless and there was no movement. Reaching out for the door knob, he pushed the door gently open and hesitantly stepped in.
The front part of the building seemed empty and silent, not a soul in sight. He sighed softly and surveyed his surroundings before stepping quietly further into the lodge, wondering if he had come too early, if nobody would be here. but he pressed on anyways, cautiously though down the hallway, seeing the living room door open. He walked over and stood in the doorway, looking into the room until his sight landed on a lone figure, facing away from him. He stared at her back for a moment, eyebrows furrowed and began to step back from the room when his heart sped up with realization. He opened the door wider and moved into the room, his blue eyes widening with anxiety and uncertainty. He opened his mouth to speak and at first all he could coax out was a whisper, until finally he found himself. Taking off his hat, he kept his gaze steadily on her back, until he finally was able to speak. Tootsie?
 CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS without you - my darkest days WORD COUNT 911
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Post by Tootsie on Jul 26, 2010 8:52:02 GMT -5
Tootsie's hands ran through her hair. It was so short. So, so, so short. What was she supposed to do with it? She hadn't even seen it in a reflection, she had convinced herself not to look in a mirror lately. Though it felt overly cliche to say, it was less of a she didn't want to ask anyone to hand her one, and more of a, she was scared of what she would see, it would had the potential to be scary. Very scary. Terrifying maybe. Was this how she had always? She ran her fingers against her face. Though it hurt like hell the beense days, she couldn't help but do it, in alternative to actually seeing her face.. From the top of her scalp line to the chin of her head, the burn had appeared. Starting at the right edge of her right eye, and spreading back just before the ear. She had also often looked at her leg, which required her to turn sideways so that her legs were hanging off the bed, so she could observe it. It was red, swelling, and though she tried to stick her foot to the ground it would hop back up with a searing streak of pain.
Things were different now, she thought to herself. Would she still be such a flirt, even though she felt more shy than ever with her face like this. She hated the fact that her hair had burned. She hated it almost as much as the fact that her skin had been burned. If it was still longer as it had been before, it could hide her face. Which seemed to be something that she would pay money to do. Her hands pulled at her hair, urging it to move past her face's burn. Of course, it didn't budge from it position right below her ears, where it liked to be, apparently, but she couldn't help but keep pulling on her hair. She wondered if this had made her more vain. This whole blemish. And to think that she had been so focused on flaunting her features and her face in the past. She wondered if they made something for covering up burns. She wondered if it was expensive.
Her body was turned toward the window in the room. She wondered if she could go back outside soon. Supposedly, her burn was to heal in three weeks, which was a fortune in her mind. All the papers she could sell in three weeks, and all the papers that Queenie was selling for her. She couldn't help but feel extremely guilty about everything and thankful for everything. Queenie really didn't have to do that for her, but she volunteered herself to help her. It was because of Queenie that she wasn't living on the streets like a bum, and she was grateful to her for it. She was grateful to the newsies who were from Queens, who had patched her up in the first place. And had put up with her sobbing. Which she admitted was rather loud. And she was grateful that she was alive. But besides being so grateful and guilty, she felt a more prominent feeling. Most of all she felt nervous. Very nervous
Nervous about what things would be like. No matter how much she had changed mentally, that she didn't exactly need a boyfriend, Tootsie's acknowledged the fact that if she could not flirt with someone, anyone who found her attractive, she might not be Tootsie anymore. And what would she be if not Tootsie But their were other things to worry about. What if her burns never healed? That'd be awful. Terrible. What if there was no one left who was willing to pay her rent while she had to heal them and she had to leave the lodge? What would happen then?
And despite everything that had already happened, besides the burns, she still was thinking about Bear. Bear. And she hated to say it, but she wished she was over him so bad. Just over him the same way that she was over him. She was so tired of being so sad over him, but she still loved him. His quietness. His sleepiness. His calm personality. How she regretted the days when she had yelled at him for not being there. But she almost regretted it all. The days where he had brought her flowers, or candy. If she didn't have that, maybe she wouldn't miss what she had so much.
But it was to late for that. If she was going to stop loving him, she would have done it long ago. It wasn't going to happen. And even though she didn't feel the absolute despair that she had originally, she couldn't help but cry again. Maybe it was the fact that she had thought about him again, which she had successfully stopped doing until now. Maybe it was the combination of the whole mess of things that happened lately, with the injuries of all her fellow Bronxies, and the death of Gunner, along with her relationship (or lack of the formerly mentioned) with Bear, she just broke. Her guard, her false sense of calmness that she had lulled herself into.
Her tears stung as the rolled of her cheek and that just made her cry more and more, but she was just ready to curl up into the familiar position of lying on her back on the bed and trying to fall asleep when she heard the door creak open a little, and she sniffed just before she heard someone call her name. She turned around, and was automatically shushed with shocked, a bit of fear, and a devouring nervousness.
She looked at the figure in the door, sure as ever that it was him. Which probably did nothing for her emotional condition. But she wasn't gonna keep of crying. No she wasn't, she would pull it together. She sniffed again, and stared at him, not sure what in the world he should and was feeling. And then she remembered her burn, and she placed her head a little lower so she could still see him but her hair was over he face, in an effort to conceal her burn. And maybe to conceal a few tears.
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Post by Bear on Jul 26, 2010 13:15:15 GMT -5
After Bear said her name, he dropped his gaze to the floor, twisting his hat gently in his hands, not wanting to see her reaction to him being there, because he knew it wasn't going to be joy. He heard a sniff and his chest ached a little. She was crying? He remembered the way she used to cry, whenever he was late for a date or forgot something important to her, the way he would apologize and then take her back into his arms and wipe away her tears. These tears weren't the same, these tears were from a deeper pain, and Bear knew he wasn't going to be the one to comfort her this time. But he yearned to anyway, anything to take her pain away if it was possible for him. He took a few steps forward closer to her, his regret and remorse showing through until he paused and slowly raised his gaze to look at Tootsie.
Her head was lowered, as if she was hiding from him, as if she didn't want him here, to see her in pain. His heart was sinking again. He shouldn't have come, he could have easily found another bird to check up on Bronx. He was just making things worse, being selfish, trying to make himself feel better. He knew that wasn't going to happen because the pain he felt just seemed heavier. There was no way they could ever regain what they had lost and it was his fault. He shook his head, his eyes on the carpet as he took a step back towards the door. I shouldn't have come, right? It's just... He took a deep breath. It's been so long....well, I just wanted to apologize, even though nothing I say is probably going to help. It's not worth anything but I just wanted to do...something. I realize it's just another mistake. I'm sorry. I'll just go, that's probably what you want.
Bear felt like he was speaking to her through a barred wall. He waited for a moment for her response and then gave up, moving to rid himself of her presence but he paused at the doorway, his back turned to her, his fingers wrapped around the doorknob and he just couldn't do it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold in the pain and then finally opened them, his body relaxing, rid of it's brief stiffness and tension. He turned around and strode over, diminishing the distance that had been placed between them. He couldn't leave with things the way they were, he had to at least make her see how sorry he was, how miserable with the regret, remorse, and guilt he was feeling, that he still cared and he couldn't bear to see her like this.
He was standing right in front of her now as she still wouldn't look at him, his body radiating his pain and emotions and feelings. He said her name again, Tootsie. And then, looking down at her, he put his finger gently under her chin, slowly lifting her face to look at his, just trying to let her see. He started to whisper, Tootsie, pleas-- His voice broke off and he froze as he gazed down upon her face, frozen in shock. Her face, her beautiful face. Mangled, broken, ruined. He was speechless. How could this have happened to her? How could she deal with this? Tootsie lived for her beauty...and now. Not only had he removed himself from her, not only her heart ripped apart, but her face...her fair skin, destroyed. He was trembling, his eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the burn, a fire burning it's way into his heart. Why did the flames always come and hurt the ones he loved? What if she had died? What would he had done? It had almost killed him as a child to see his family and his apartment burning to the ground, how could he stand it if he lost Tootsie to the fire too, without ever getting to apologize, to tell her how sorry he was. The thought itself was damaging to the seventeen year old.
How could he had not known about this? How could he had not been there for her? How could he have been selfish enough to stay away when she needed somebody to love her the most. He already felt he knew what had happened. The Irving Hall Fire. He had slipped out of the building at the first flames, not scorched, unscathed. He had ran away from the past, from his terror of fire and she had been left to suffer. The anger that consumed him suddenly was almost over powering. Not only at himself, but at whoever had started the fire, whoever didn't realize what they were doing, how they were hurting innocent people, the terror and sadness the fire brought, or that the one who had started it might not even care. He shook with rage and for a moment, it almost looked like he might hit her across the face. But at last, it faded away and he tore his gaze away, stepping backwards and shaking his head, feeling as broken as her face.
CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS without you - my darkest days WORD COUNT 897
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Post by Tootsie on Jul 26, 2010 14:09:52 GMT -5
Tootsie was in shock. What was he doing there? What was he doing there? Her eyes closed tight for a moment. 'It was his fault.' something in the back of her mind told her. 'he led up to this' Tootsie shook her head to herself. No. That wasn't true. It wasn't. She bit her lip, tears still welling in her eyes, they refuse to cease. He kept his distance, and Tootsie didn't know whether she longed for him to come closer and move away. She loved him. She wanted to jump and throw her arms around him and kiss him and have them pretend that it never happened. And he would kiss her back and no one would care. And then they'd have each other and that was all that would matter. Just the two of them in the entire world, they would be the only people there, just them two.
But that was not going to happen. Nothing was going to make that happen. Even if he was going to apologize, and even if she accepted his apology, things would not be the same between them ever again. Never, ever, again.
He moved closer to her, and she moved her head down further, she wasn't going to let him see her face. No, he wouldn't. She couldn't let him see it. What would that do? Make it even worse between them. He'd look at her in disgust and so then he'd run from her forever. Because that was how long she'd have those burns. Forever. So he couldn't. She turned away. And she listened to him start to turn away himself.
"I shouldn't have come, right? It's just... It's been so long....well, I just wanted to apologize, even though nothing I say is probably going to help. It's not worth anything but I just wanted to do...something. I realize it's just another mistake. I'm sorry. I'll just go, that's probably what you want."
She shrank away. What did he want her to say. She didn't know why he was hear. He was running away. He was running away just like he had before. Just going to leave her here. Leave her when she wanted him back more than ever. In an desperate way, she wished he had never come. Then she would be crying by herself, over her burns and her life. He had gotten the centimeter of hope she had left up. And then he had thrown it to the ground. Destroyed it.
She waited for him to leave. He was torturing her by waiting. Did he want her to cry out? Beg him not to go? She couldn't get over there even if she had known what she wanted to do. So she sat there, watching him stand and try to make his decision, do what he wanted to do. And she was ready for him to leave her. Maybe his visit was good after all. Maybe he was giving her the answer. Maybe she should just give up, healed physically, and then go back to selling. Flirt with other guys. Don't think about it. Maybe she should. She saw in him something that she had only seen once before. His body at that level of tension, and stress. She had seen it before when he was leaving her. And now he was leaving again. She seemed to hold her breath, waiting for the final blow.
And then he turned around. He started walking towards her, and she held her head down even further. He wasn't going to see. 'he can't see it. he can't see it' She bit her lip in nervousness and tension. She wanted the normality, the happiness that she had with him at one time, but now that was long gone. Or so it seemed.
He said her name again, but she was silenced by how close he was. He was right there. He was right there again. Right there just like he had been before. But then he touched her face. "Bear, stop!" She said. Not only did she have to hide it, but it hurt a bit too. She tried to move her face away, but he lifted it. Silence followed.
Tootsie looked at him straight for the first time since he had come. And his face. His expression. His eyes. His blue eyes. They stared at it with great disgust and what felt like hatred. The same eyes that had once looked at her with love. She turned away, she didn't want to see anymore. He was disgusted with her. He hated her. He would never love her. No one could ever loved her. The tears that started ruining down her face again were not fought. This time she just let them go free.
"That bad huh," she said through tears, her voice choked. "I haven't looked at it yet, but they told me it was barely noticeable." She gasped between her tears. "Queens newsies aren't very good liars."
She looked at him straight again, and saw his body begin to shake. With his hand still out, it almost looked like he would hit her. 'He wouldn't dare. Would he?' Was his resentment for her so great that he would hit her. Cause her even more pain. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see him with her like this. Right now she didn't want to see him at all.
But she heard his backwards stepping footsteps, and even opened her eyes lightly. "You can go now," she whispered. "I know you were going to just before, but you can go. If you need to." She looked up at him. What was it on his face? Fear? Horror? Anger? Disgust?
Her own expression changed. She looked tortured. She didn't know what she wanted. "Cause it's not like I can leave. I don't know what my face looks like, but if it looks anything like my leg I guess I'm screwed," she whispered. "I guess if you wanna see that too..." Her words weren't even coming from her mouth anymore, or her brain. She was just talking. Trying to fill that silence. Anything was better than the silence. He could yell at her, scream, tell her how ugly she was anything. Just she wanted to stop this quiet.
"Like my hair?"
Words w/o Bear's quotes: 1034
Words w/ Bear's quotes: 1103
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Post by Bear on Jul 29, 2010 14:09:52 GMT -5
Bear stood there, his eyes squeezed shut as he saw the burns, they were a picture engraved into his mind. It was killing him. Her tears, her broken whisper, her broken face. He was trying to pull it together, to get a hold of his mind and his emotions. A part of him wanted to leave, to say he couldn't handle this and that he had already hurt her enough, never come back, if it would cause this much pain. Maybe that was what they both wanted. But as he lifted his gaze to her tormented one, he knew he couldn't put her through watching him walk away again, he couldn't stand to do that, to leave her.
He listened to her talk, his blue eyes clouding with each word. Her leg was burned too? How much pain did Tootsie have to go through? Why her? Why Tootsie? How much was she supposed to bear? If he could take it all away, if he could take the burns and put them on his own skin he would do it in a heartbeat. But it wouldn't be enough, because she would still have the burns on her heart when he had hurt her with words, from when he had left her. All he could think of was what he would do to erase this pain and have it be so it was never existent in the first place, if he could take back the worst mistake of his life and go back to when there was no pain between them.
Every time he looked at her his gaze went to the burn, and the anger flared up inside. His disgust wasn't at Tootsie but at the burns themselves, for the pain they caused her and what they had taken from her. He wanted to kill whoever it was who had caused them. He was angry at the pain that hurt her, that changed her from the Tootsie he knew to this living corpse of sadness.
"Like my hair?"
The question surprised him a little, but maybe it wasn't just the question but the way she said it, as if she expected him to say he hated it or to call her ugly or something. He lowered his gaze, he didn't know how to answer the hurtful question. It was different, so short, he missed her long dark locks very much, he just missed how she used to be. He took a breath, staring at the floor painfully, Tootsie... he didn't know how to go on, he knew the words he wanted to tell her but he didn't think she would believe them.
CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS without you - my darkest days WORD COUNT 447
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Post by Tootsie on Jul 29, 2010 15:12:18 GMT -5
Tootsie fulled opened her eyes. He wouldn't look at her. He was not going to look her her. He had this look on his face.... It wasn't a face her Bear would make. She just didn't know this look from the Bear she really know. She pushed her hand against her bunk bed. She wanted to stand up to him. She wanted to bad. He had come with confidence at first to speak to her, but know that he saw her burns, he had changed. Something in him. Was it good or bad? She didn't know, but sh ewas sure as hell planning on finding out. She grabbed the head board on the bed and pulled herself up, keeping her injuring leg above the ground so it wouldn't touch and hurt again.
Her eyes tried to look into his. She wanted to see him. Him. Her Bear. Her body was unstable against the board that she was gripped too. "Bear." Her voice was softer than it had been before, and she was trying to stay calm. She was trying not to make accusations. She was trying to be good and honest and sincere.
"What-" She winced, jerking her foot back up, it had been on the ground for a moment too long, adn she interruppted herself with a quick cry of pain.
"Bear I want to know what you were going to say before..." She ended the sentence there for a moment, tryin gto think of how to say what had happened. 'Before you were horrified by my ugly injuries? Before you were disgusted by my face? Before you decided that maybe I wasn't worth it?'
"Before you.... You know." That woul dod the trick.
Her hands were clutching the headboard, but she wantedto reach out for him. Her left hand moved toward him for a moment. She wanted to move his face toward her so that he would look her in the eye, but there was no way that he was going to do that now.
Would this be the way things were for life. Would she be the one that people only looked at when she wasn't aware. Would no one look her in the eye? It seemed as if the situation had reversed, from him trying to ge ther to look at him to the opposite. Everything had changed because of this one thing. Everything had changed for her.
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