Love Undefined
Title: Love Undefined
Rating: NC-17, not at the beginning, but it gets there
Pairing: Lily and Ville, Lily and Bam
Genre: Drama/Romance
Disclaimer: I own Lily as she is a fictional character I created. As for everyone else, don't know and don't own. And I'm sure this never really happened.
Chapter 1,2
Chapter 3,4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
After returning to the states I threw myself head first into returning my life to normal, or at least the normal I had been living prior to meeting either of them. I threw myself head first into my work, offering to stay extra hours at the shop and take on additional responsibilities, anything to busy my mind and hands. My boss noticed the change as soon as I returned to work and had even once tried to ask what had brought about the change and if everything was alright, a question to which I abruptly lied in response. I took on the ‘if you don’t talk about it, it never really happened’ approach to the entire situation. Work quickly became my favorite place, a place where I could forget it all and slip into other people’s stories. That’s the thing about working as a florist, people come in ordering flowers for everything ranging from a death in the family to a new baby, but no matter what the reason everyone shares their story. Whether it’s while you help them pick out the perfect blooms or while you’re putting the finishing touches on that never quite perfect bow; each customer takes the time to share their reason for coming in, and it was in these stories that I lived while avoiding every emotion I had boiling under my skin. And while my mind and hands were busy I staved off all thoughts of them.
Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to bed. A simple routine I seemed to fall into easily. I didn’t go out more than needed, I didn’t want to risk running into Bam. This is a small town with a limited number of places to go and my worst fear was being faced with those enraged blue eyes again. So I stayed in, sinking ever so slowly into myself. Some nights I would lay awake, silence surrounding me as I thought about that last night with Ville. Was he surprised to find me gone when he woke? That was the question that seemed to haunt me, but after being home for a few weeks I decided it didn’t matter and that all of this hadn’t mattered. I told myself that if he was concerned, if this all did matter, if I had mattered, he would have contacted me - needless to say, he didn’t. And even as I tried my best to push thoughts of both of them completely out of my mind, I never fully succeeded; restless dreams filled with snapshots of varying things that had played out between all of us always found me waking covered in a cold sweat.
That’s how my life played out for the next two months, until one evening when I wandered down to the little market a few blocks from my apartment for six pack of cheap beer. The quiet Asian woman behind the counter rang up my purchase and gave me an earnest smile as she concealed my purchase in a sturdy paper bag. After a quick exchange of goodbyes I meandered out the door, letting the crisp evening air flow through me as I closed the distance between the market and my apartment. About a block from my apartment I noticed a couple walking down the street towards me-she was wrapped in his embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder, talking quietly. Young lovers, I smiled inwardly as those words rolled through my mind, but the closer I got to them the more that smile faded. It was Bam and some dark haired girl I’d never seen before. There was no place to go, save for turning and running the complete opposite direction, so I quickened my pace and prayed to any deity that would listen that he was too engrossed in their conversation to notice me.
The sound of the soles of my shoes hitting the ground seemed to fill my ears as my fingers clung to the rough paper bag. I willed my eyes to stay focused on the ground, to follow the seam in the concrete with my eyes until it led me to my door, until I could hide inside the relative safety of my apartment. But try as I might, my eyes refused to listen and were drawn up to meet that all too familiar azure gaze. The woman didn’t notice, she was to enthralled with her own voice. She never paused or slowed her speech, even as his eyes found mine and he slowed their pace. Blue eyes roaming my frame, his face decorated with an expression that danced somewhere between disgust and intrigue. His hair was longer, not long, but long enough that those messy curls were peaking out from under the black beanie shielding him from the autumn air. Mt stomach in knots and every nerve in my body shaking, I tried to walk faster, but it wouldn’t happen - my feet were content with their pace, even if the rest of me wasn’t. Even as we finally passed one another our eyes stayed locked until my muscles relaxed allowing my head to turn, finally looking in the direction I had been walking. As the brunette’s voice trailed off behind me I quickened my pace, almost running by the time I stepped over the threshold of my apartment.
The whole event had thrown me for a loop and as I sat on my couch that night draining one amber bottle after another I found myself lost in the question, ‘were would I be now had it not all gone awry’. Trying to picture myself wrapped tight in those sturdy tan arms, my fingers trailing through his wild curls, but as much as I wanted to picture us like that my mind wouldn’t allow it. Every time my eyes slipped shut all I could see were emerald green eyes reflecting back at me. I dozed off that evening to dreams filled with their eyes and skin, one man somehow becoming the other over and over again throughout my restless sleep.
The next morning I was greeted by the sharp morning sun and a rather quick call from my boss, admonishing me for being late and suggesting that perhaps I should take the day off to get my head right - and those were my exact intensions. Determined to not be deterred by what was shaping up to be one hell of a hangover I started the chore of cleaning my apartment. “One’s life is only as neat and tidy as their living space.” It was an expression that had been drilled into my mind as a young child and it had never seemed more true than at that moment in my life. Clearing out beer bottles, picking up dirty clothes, cleaning dishes, my whole day was tied up in the menial tasks I had been avoiding for nearly a week. It wasn’t until the short fall day began to decent into dusk that I finally regained my appetite and was forced from my comfortable distraction and out into the world in search of dinner. It was a quick trip to the store, one of those trips where you don’t even think about what you’re buying, you just buy the first thing that comes to mind and everything else is on autopilot and that autopilot stayed on the whole way home and before I knew it I was nearly finished cooking a quick chicken stir fry which I barely remembered even shopping for. With a stern click I turned the knob for the burner to off and hastily filled my oversized green bowl before taking my normal spot on the couch just in time to watch the 10 o’clock local news. Just as the anchor was starting on a story about a chain of local convenient store robberies my attention was drawn to a firm rapping at my front door. Without a second thought, me and my bowl of dinner made our way to my door and turned back the dead bolt.
The squeak I had been intending to fix for weeks echoed in my ears until it was drowned out by the sound of my bowl shattering and stir fry scattering across the hardwood floor - but even that sound was not enough to drag my eyes away from his.
Thinking back to that day I am sure I must have been shaking that whole time that we stood in that doorway, staring at each other as if in disbelief that we had come face to face again so soon. I remember my mouth opening a number of times but failing miserably every time I tried to produce even the smallest of sounds and he seemed content to let me suffocate in my lack of words. It seemed like forever that we stood there and to this day I have no idea how long it really was, but I do know I was frozen in that place until he touched my shoulder, guiding me back to the couch. I watched him, as he retrieved a towel from the kitchen and quickly cleaned up my mess of shattered bowl and stir fry before closing and locking the front door.
“What are you doing here?” words passing over my lips without a second thought as I watched his lithe, almost feline frame lean back against the front door as he continued to silently study me. Those frighteningly familiar eyes trailing over ever part of me; from the frayed bottom of my blue jeans stopping to take particular note of the large threadbare patch on my right thigh, over the faded black t-shirt, all the way to my obviously unclean hair which was pulled back in a messy bun. And the longer he looked at me the more I felt him slipping under my skin, thawing my cold exterior. Without a word he stalked towards me, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. “You can’t just walk in here like this, uninvited.” My weak protest all but forgotten as those soft lips landed on my neck and a quick bite jolted that soft pulse point.
“You disappeared. . .” his words ghosting over my skin, raising goose bumps I had all but forgotten.
“I couldn’t stay. . .” slim arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me up tight against the smoky cotton of his dress shirt, “and you knew that.”
“You didn’t make a mess of anything.” startling green eyes coming to rest in mine.
“But. . .” two fingers resting against my lips, quickly silencing my argument.
“I haven’t slept well in days.” dropping his hand to mine, entwining fingers and leading toward the back of my apartment. Down a short hallway, a quick turn to the left and with a flick of the wrist he illuminated my bedroom. Kicking off his black converse as he walked, we stopped just short of my bed with the light blue duvet and I watched in fascination as he leisurely undid the buttons of his shirt before letting it slip over his shoulders.
“Ville?” his name a shaky question as if my mind was finally accepting the idea that he was here with me, again.
“Just lay with me tonight and we can argue about the rest of it tomorrow.” And that’s what I did. I slipped under the covers and buried myself in his warm scent, all the while telling myself that this would be the only night -- that I would let go of this all in the morning. If only he had made it that easy.