More creamy Diamondshipping goodness!
So it's kinda angsty. So sue me already.
Anyway, I guess you could say this is a sorta follow-up to the last Diamondshipping one I've done. Sort of.
I did try to fix the "age difference" problem you all saw... hopefully, the idea of a teenager dating a twelve year old isn't too freaky. Given the other pairings that have been written here, though...
31. Night
It was cloudy tonight.
That was probably a good thing, he thought, as he took a final look at his bed. Pillows and cushions had been propped up under the blankets, to give the impression of a person snuggled under the covers- the oldest trick in the book, but it never failed to pacify the meddling staff on the chance that one of them might decide to take a peek into his room "just to be safe". A certain someone had recently told them she was suspicious her son was running off during the night- "Now whatever would make you think that, Mother?" he'd asked, upon being confronted about it. He took one final look, to assure the coast was clear, then climbed out the open window down the rope ladder, stashing it behind a bush upon reaching the ground. On his return, he'd come in through the back door, claiming sleepwalking- they fell for it every time, those idiots.
At times, he had reason to wonder why any of this was necessary. It was his mother's fault, he knew it. He remembered the first time he'd been caught- "You had me worried sick, you know," she'd told him, then when he 'fessed up and explained it was to see a girl, she launched into a huge lecture about how he was going to ruin the good reputation of the family dating a girl like that ("What good reputation?" he'd asked. "The one that's a total front?" he said, before she swore he'd be grounded till he was out of high school), and then added some crap about "and get a haircut, for crissake." He hated it. He realized his responsibility once his mother was gone, and it was a source of pride to him in some ways, but... she could just get so overbearing sometimes. The only way he really had to retain his sanity, to prove he was independent enough to fulfill his destiny in the future, was to defy her like this, rebel just like any other teenager. Somehow she didn't see eye to eye with him. "And that filthy Persian too!" she'd finished her last lecture.
Yet for some reason, his seeing this girl went beyond simple rebellion. He figured his mother would object to her from the beginning, given she was known to come from the wrong side of the tracks. But beyond that, she was intelligent... allowed into the ninth grade four years early. And that was her other problem. What was a four year difference, though? He'd never seen where it was a bad thing- God knew she'd probably been too drunk to even bother to ask how old HIS father was, wherever he was now- and she was mature beyond her years. A little ditzy at times, maybe, but that was hardly an issue. And something about her he couldn't get enough of. She was everything his mother wasn't- caring, thoughtful, sincere. It was hard for him to admit at first, but...
He loved her.
There she was, sitting on the bench where they'd agree to meet, her light brown hair pulled back from her face... he melted as she smiled at him. But it was an annoyed smile.
"You're late, Gio."
"And if I wasn't, I'd be grounded for a month. Your point?"
He hardly expected what was coming next, as Delia threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss. He could care less about his stupid mother at that point. All that mattered was he had her.
Anyway, I guess you could say this is a sorta follow-up to the last Diamondshipping one I've done. Sort of.
I did try to fix the "age difference" problem you all saw... hopefully, the idea of a teenager dating a twelve year old isn't too freaky. Given the other pairings that have been written here, though...
31. Night
It was cloudy tonight.
That was probably a good thing, he thought, as he took a final look at his bed. Pillows and cushions had been propped up under the blankets, to give the impression of a person snuggled under the covers- the oldest trick in the book, but it never failed to pacify the meddling staff on the chance that one of them might decide to take a peek into his room "just to be safe". A certain someone had recently told them she was suspicious her son was running off during the night- "Now whatever would make you think that, Mother?" he'd asked, upon being confronted about it. He took one final look, to assure the coast was clear, then climbed out the open window down the rope ladder, stashing it behind a bush upon reaching the ground. On his return, he'd come in through the back door, claiming sleepwalking- they fell for it every time, those idiots.
At times, he had reason to wonder why any of this was necessary. It was his mother's fault, he knew it. He remembered the first time he'd been caught- "You had me worried sick, you know," she'd told him, then when he 'fessed up and explained it was to see a girl, she launched into a huge lecture about how he was going to ruin the good reputation of the family dating a girl like that ("What good reputation?" he'd asked. "The one that's a total front?" he said, before she swore he'd be grounded till he was out of high school), and then added some crap about "and get a haircut, for crissake." He hated it. He realized his responsibility once his mother was gone, and it was a source of pride to him in some ways, but... she could just get so overbearing sometimes. The only way he really had to retain his sanity, to prove he was independent enough to fulfill his destiny in the future, was to defy her like this, rebel just like any other teenager. Somehow she didn't see eye to eye with him. "And that filthy Persian too!" she'd finished her last lecture.
Yet for some reason, his seeing this girl went beyond simple rebellion. He figured his mother would object to her from the beginning, given she was known to come from the wrong side of the tracks. But beyond that, she was intelligent... allowed into the ninth grade four years early. And that was her other problem. What was a four year difference, though? He'd never seen where it was a bad thing- God knew she'd probably been too drunk to even bother to ask how old HIS father was, wherever he was now- and she was mature beyond her years. A little ditzy at times, maybe, but that was hardly an issue. And something about her he couldn't get enough of. She was everything his mother wasn't- caring, thoughtful, sincere. It was hard for him to admit at first, but...
He loved her.
There she was, sitting on the bench where they'd agree to meet, her light brown hair pulled back from her face... he melted as she smiled at him. But it was an annoyed smile.
"You're late, Gio."
"And if I wasn't, I'd be grounded for a month. Your point?"
He hardly expected what was coming next, as Delia threw her arms around him and gave him a kiss. He could care less about his stupid mother at that point. All that mattered was he had her.