fic: There is a time and place for this sort of thing. 3/3
Title: There is a time and place for this sort of thing. Part 3.
Author: umeko_star
Rating: NC-17 (for smutty sexiness)
Word Count: 6,042
Disclaimer: to love something, you have to set it free. Therefore, I can't own NBC/Community
Summary: Jeff and Annie journey through self discovery, and what they mean to themselves before they evaluate what they mean to each other.
A/N: Final chapter and it's a monster. Phew, I spent all week on this because I knew I needed to finish it before my papers start piling up in school, or else I know I'll spend the time I need to finish those on writing this to avoid actual work. Did that sentence just make any sense? Who cares. Anyway, I really want to thank everyone who have stuck with me through to the end of this story. I'm so grateful to have found this community, it's really opened me up to my writing once again. I love you all, seriously. It's a joy to check this site daily and imbibe all this Jeff/Annie love. I hope you enjoy this last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
*sidenote* Woody Allen's "Interiors" is a personal favourite movie of mine. To me, it depicts the tradgedy and destruction when societal templates fail. You have to come to terms with yourself to really find fulfillment. It seems stupid to compare a measly little work of fanfiction to a Woody Allen movie, but as always, my fics are really pieces of my personal life fitted into these characters.
Part 1 & Part 2
===
Life moves on.
She’s in her junior year at Greendale and she knows it’s time to either get in or get out. Her 4.0 gpa was still maintained, despite having failed the terrarium project in Biology (appealing to the school board helped, unbeknownst to the study group.) She starts booking bi-weekly appointments with transfer advisors. As much as they put down their college, Greendale still had a handful of competent faculty members; Dean Pelton hasn’t been able to keep his job through sheer incompetence, he had at least taken the time to carefully select good (and goodlooking) staff to aid in their students' academic journey.
Annie slowly tries to stop spending so much time with her study group. As she is handed more brochures and student calendars of different reputable schools, she realizes her life at Greendale will end someday, so she chooses to disassociate herself from her adopted family a bit at a time; more for her benefit than theirs - she went through withdrawal before, and it wasn’t pleasant. But Troy and Abed still hold her hand and grasp her elbow whenever they find themselves near her, and she realizes letting go of true friends isn’t as easy as she thought it would be. But still, she mused, it’s a good problem to have as she smiles and dotes on her adventurous companions.
Near the end of the fall semester, her main advisor, Kathleen, gently reminds her that she needs to pick a designated faculty once she starts officially applying to state schools. It will speed the process along, and you should be considering what you want to be doing career wise once you get out of school, she said. Most likely noticing the anxiety that flitted across the young girl’s face, Kathleen squeezed her hand and said it was all a matter of squaring your shoulders and facing your options. Annie gave a nod, small but resolute.
Sitting cross legged in her living room one night, she spread the brochures in a circle around her and quietly made a list of their outstanding and accredited programs. As much as she pranced around her childhood bragging to be a doctor one day, her stint in rehab deterred her from wanting to pursue a career in the medical field; there was too much temptation, she doubted she had enough willpower to sustain in an environment where drugs seem to flow freely. So pharmaceuticals were crossed out by default - there was enough corruption in the world without having to dip her own hand into it.
Sighing, she gathered herself into a tight ball and rested her chin on her knees. Toeing a glossy, green brochure she knew she already made up her mind. She stood up and grabbed her backpack from the kitchen and pulled out the manila folder Kathleen had handed her earlier that morning. Settling down with a pen poised tightly between her fingers, she began filling out the application for Columbia’s law school.
She’s not the girl who lives in the moment. She’s not the girl who believes in the mutual exclusiveness of sex and emotions. She’s not the type of person to put all her eggs into one basket and hope for the best.
She’s the type of girl who seeks and sifts through moments, weights consequences and preparation. She’s the type of girl who believes sex capitalizes on emotions. She’s the type of girl who knows what she wants, and what she deserves. So she will always, always be the girl who will work hard to get what she wants and what she deserves. She admits that sometimes what she actually wants falls into simple, youthful ignorance, those stories of naïve girls who chase after men who want nothing to do with them, but she knows she at least deserves a shot.
She owes herself at least a shot.
Annie produces the required two photocopies of her application, reference letters, transcripts and her entrance essay to Kathleen the very next day. The woman smiled and instead of shaking her hand as she normally did with past students, she wraps her plump, motherly arms around the young girl’s shoulders and happily congratulates her in the hallway. She grins shyly as she pulls away and begins to walk to her next class. As the students bustle around her, a slow and steady weight drifts from her chest and shoulders. Breathing in deeply, the weight disperses and ebbs away with every jolt from each passing student until she feels the lightest she’s been in years. Her stride becomes more pronounced, and her step gains a skip until she’s practically sprinting down the fluorescent lighted hallway. her practical flats dance along the vinyl flooring,and she finds herself not running to the direction of her literature class but towards the main entrance of the school.
Bursting through the heavy metal doors the sunshine streams across her face as she pauses at the steps, breathing in heavily while taking in the quad. The club booths, the hacky sack players, the Greenpeace meetings, and just student milling across the grass and cement, filling the air with chatter and mindless laughter, all unconscious of the brunette’s incoming change. This was her change. This was finally, the beginning of the end.
There was only one person she wished to share this with.
She sees him crossing the parking lot. Books and binders tucked safely under his arm as he checked his blackberry with his other hand. She calculates the distance between them. There were approximately sixty yards from him to where she was standing. If he continued to walk at his leisurely pace, she estimates it will take him maybe seven to ten minutes to reach her. If she broke out into a run, she could meet him two thirds of the way before they would be mere inches from each other, before his eyes would look up at meet her anxious ones. She could calculate all these things, but what she wouldn’t be able to anticipate was his reaction. His eyes could skirt away from hers, and mumble a quick hello before saying he was running late for class. He could smile a smile that she knew he only used for the girls whose names he never remembered and bumped into later on - the one where he showed you were barely a blip on his radar. Or he could just pat her clumsily on the head and ask if she had last week’s biology notes.
The students around her were getting irritable, grumbling why on earth she insisted on blocking the main entrance. But the circling thoughts whirled relentlessly through her mind, barely registering the exasperation she was causing. Her stomach tightened as she realized he had already made it halfway across the quad and it would only take him maybe another three minutes for him to be standing directly in front of her. She had never prepared for anything like this. She was never rewarded with a non-awkward celebratory interaction with him. So she decided to go with the odds and retreat. Finally removing herself from the top of the steps, she made her way to the cafeteria where she figured Shirley would be, and she could expect a warm, enveloping embrace that wouldn’t be inhibited by unresolved tension.
Instead, she found Pierce sitting alone in the back corner with three large milkshakes and five buckets of French fries surrounding his scattered notes and pencils. Timidly, she stepped up to the table and asked if she could sit down. Pierce’s smile was a mixture of surprise and friendliness that always pulled at her chest - like he never expected people to want to be around him, or seek his company. He quickly dived into telling her about his class earlier this afternoon. How his female professor may have the hots for him because she gave him a 6.9 out of 10 on a quiz. She listened quietly, and laughed at the appropriate times. The news of her application to law school was on the tip of her tongue and the drive to blurt it out was jammed in the back of her throat. But looking at the older man before her, she knew there would only really be resentment in his response. He would view her departure as abandonment. He had sought out a group of friends for the last twelve years and they were the only ones crazy enough to stick around and call him on his shots. So she kept mum about her news. Even with Shirley and Britta joined them a short while later, the urge died and laid in the pit of her stomach, slowly churning and rolling itself around in her body, until it merely became a hardened seed of undigested information.
She couldn’t lose her family now. Not when she hadn’t even received an acceptance letter yet. It was too risky. They’d never forgive her for wanting to leave.
She’ll tell them when and if it was time.
====
He wonders why she was constantly seen outside of the advisor’s office.
He had asked Abed (he can’t ask Britta about Annie anymore), and Abed pursed his lips and replied with a nonchalant shrug saying it was possible Annie is facing with a large decision that would alter the course of her lifestyle and needed executive guidance. Her driven personality will always prompt her to seek out as many resources as possible before making an astute decision. He marvels at how much Abed really knows about the study group without stalking them personally because no one should be that in tune with another’s psyche.
But he continues to keep his distance. If she was in fact going through a personal alteration, then the least he could do was stay out of her way and not complicate things further. So he studied her from afar, and feigned mild interest when her name came up in conversations.
===
Fall gave way to winter and as he twisted the dial on his heater and made a mental note to pick up his down jacket from the dry cleaners, he worries if she was keeping warm in her dingy apartment.
===
He wonders what it means to evolve.
The question had been addressed already in the beginning of semester. And he had already shown his reluctance to forgo such a transition. But nevertheless, as he turned the corner of the east wing hallway to find Troy and Britta locked in a passionate embrace by the water fountain, he finds himself forced to face two choices natural selection had embedded in him: fight or flight?
They were ten feet away, and their kisses seemed to be fuelled with a certain hunger that told him there was more than lust - there was a fire that could only have been sparked by a mutual spark of understanding and enlightenment. He stood there with his arms fallen limp at his sides and he wracks through his choices of acting as a friend, an ex lover, or an alpha-male contender. On which grounds should he choose to fight, or take flight?
Against his instinct, his feet swivels in the direction he just came and he chooses flight. He noted the thundering inside his chest and the twinge of irritation that writhed in his stomach. But he also noted the numbness that traveled across his brain and abated any anger that might have surfaced. The decision to flee had not derived from cowardice, or anger. He walked away simply out of acquiescence. The value of their friendship overpowered any irrational tendencies, and he found he had been watching them with a certain level of peaceful reservation and acceptance.
Maybe this was what evolution was. Learning to accept and digest chance, and ultimately adapting around situations.
Maybe evolution came when the circumstances deemed it necessary.
Maybe it was also a matter of communal sacrifice; a swallowing of pride to accommodate others because the alternative would be dissipation.
He certainly didn’t feel shocked, he realized as he walked back toward the west wing campus. They had been making “googly eyes” back and forth all semester, and he had caught Troy sneaking appreciative glances at her more than once. It was only a matter of time before two sexually active individuals gave in to such built up tension. Shirley would be happy; it would give her another excuse to bake since she’d undoubtedly want to invite them over for a couple’s night with her and Andre. Pierce will be disappointed - Britta’s closeted sexuality was a notion he entertained quite a bit in his senile brain.
As for Annie…
His feet skipped a step and he almost face planted had he not thrown out his hand to catch himself along the wall. Regaining his composure, his thoughts continued as he sidestepped others passing him. Annie had been in love with Troy practically half her life. She had followed him relentlessly throughout first year and had been practically manic in her possessiveness over him. What would she feel about seeing Britta plastered over her high school crush? It would certainly be a turning of tables he thought mildly. It was usually Annie kissing guys Britta had dumped. But Annie had never kissed Troy…
Had she?
His fixation on that possibility kept him from noticing a dark, slight figure falling in step with him as he passed by the library doors.
“I suppose you saw?”
“What the crap, Abed! Don’t do that!” He ran a hand roughly through his hair and scrambled to pick up the loose papers that had fallen from his clutch.
“Sorry.”
Straightening up, he fixed Abed with a quizzical eye, ”Saw what?”
“Troy and Britta.” He stated matter of factly. “I assumed that’s why you’re so distracted and seemingly agitated.”
Jeff stopped walking and turned to study his friend. He was standing rather forlornly; his arms stiff, and grasping tightly at the handle of his camera, and his gaze was less focused than normal.
“Hey Abed?”
“Yah?”
“Let’s go get a drink, buddy.”
===
They didn’t go to L Street.
Instead, he drove home with Abed quietly sitting in the passenger seat, passively filming the people and cars whizzing by outside the window. The car was palpable with a determined calm. Jeff didn’t know what to say to Abed exactly, it wasn’t as if he lost a girlfriend, but in Abed’s structured and logical mind, having Troy’s attention and time diverted elsewhere would mean a certain level of disruption and alienation. His friend wasn’t like other people, so normal, one dimensional words of comfort would probably fall flat when uttered.
They entered his apartment without any expression of grandeur. The only disclaimer he made before turning the knob was that under any circumstance was he allowed to film or take pictures of his furniture, accessories, and arrangements to document for future filming use.
Abed immediately took to perusing his Blu-Ray and DVD collection, settling cross-legged in front of the glass case and ran a slender finger along the display. Jeff went to the kitchen and got him a cold beer before pouring himself a tumbler of scotch.
“Here buddy.”
Abed looked up and accepted the perspiring bottle without a word.
Nodding to the collection, “You want to watch anything?” Thinking maybe Abed needed to escape in a film for a while.
“No, your collection has nothing of substantial interest to me.”
Ouch.
He winced, feeling a bit defensive; he did have the collector’s edition of The Goonies after all. If that wasn’t substantial, he didn’t know what was.
“Jeff.”
“Yah.” He half groaned as he settled back against his leather couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table in front of him.
“I’m ok with Troy having a girlfriend, really. It’s something I have been expecting. Troy is an attractive, fertile adolescent male who has displayed an enthusiastic attitude toward the opposite sex. The fact that the partner is Britta is also an outcome I have considered.”
“You have?”
“Of course, I anticipated numerous outcomes for our study group. Exploration of desire is a vital experience in adolescence and college.”
“…I guess.” Jeff really preferred to think about the female tendency to explore in college. But he’ll give Abed his point. “So, what about after college, Abed? How do our explorations define our lives after we graduate and assume adulthood?”
Opening the glass door of the display case, he started examining the box collection of Roswell, Abed was silent for a beat or two before replying.
“It depends on the individual. In terms of romance, success rates of relationships formed in high school depend a lot on whether or not they go away to college or choose to remain in their hometown. When they decide to leave, they are automatically relegated to a journey of self-discovery - an option they wouldn’t have been able to explore in their sequestered life of high school. The college experience is extremely individualized, whereas high school is faceless and nameless for the majority of the student population. Relationships conceived in post-secondary make more sense and often more stabilized, simply because they know more about who they are and what they want. It’s also a place where they learn society’s perpetuation of norms can be broken. People who were deemed “weird” in their high school usually find equally weird people in college. Therefore, the discrimination and exclusion they were pitted against all their lives become null and invalid.”
He paused to put back the box set and take a long sip of his Heineken. Behind him, the wooden blinds of his patio door slapped against the glass as cold breeze blew in through an open crack.
Jeff felt goosebumps crawl up his forearms and he shivered slightly.
“Abed…how much do you know?”
The other man stretched out his legs in front of him and points his toes in opposite directions.
“I know you and Annie are in love. And you two are just too scared to admit it.”
Setting his glass down on the table, taking care to make sure a coaster was beneath it to prevent water stains, he leaned forwards and covered his face with both palms. There was a silence that wedged itself between them - the blinds still slapping wildly.
It was cautious at first. Initially, Abed wasn’t quite sure what he was hearing. But within moments the apartment was filled with Jeff’s gruff laughter and he joined in short beats after. His own staccato baying became quite immersed in the loud barks of the hysterical ex lawyer.
===
That evening he took Abed out to a nearby diner and treated him to as many milkshakes and burgers as he wanted.
He had looked down at his measly salad and looked up at his companion, happily chowing down, and waved the waitress back over to their corner, “Fuck it. Give me two cheeseburgers and a side of mashed potatoes - extra sour cream and gravy please.”
===
She gets into Columbia.
Annie lines up the brochures and acceptance letter side by side, taking care to make sure they lay parallel to the edges of her wobbly kitchen table. There is a small balloon filling up in her chest as she stares at the words of the elite welcoming her into their prestigious fold. Her first instinct was to phone her mother, but as her hands made to dial her childhood home, she remembered she was barred from even trespassing their phone lines. So instead she celebrates by purchasing herself a new pair of black leather pumps from the thrift store down the street. They made her legs look sleek and longer than usual, and already she feels empowered enough to strut the halls of Ivy Leagues.
That evening, she spends five hours at her crafts table feverishly gluing and threading bits of beads and ribbon, separating them into six identical piles and worked tirelessly into the late hours of twilight.
She was purposefully late to the study group the next day. She wanted to arrive when everyone else had arrived; she didn’t like to sit on news, preferring to pounce on opportunity as soon as it came; like ripping off a band-aid.
There was a stunned silence that threatened to weight down and crush her. Everyone except for Britta looked devastated. The blond woman’s translucent face was flushed with fervent pride, and she felt a rush of gratitude toward her friend; they shared a long gaze of silent understanding before it was finally broken by Shirley’s, “Oh, An-nie…”
Looking round at the table, she continued in a soft but determined voice that she’d be leaving at the end of semester to get settled in and find a place to live, as well as look for part time work. She’d be starting next fall, but it’s better to get established early on so she’s prepared and accustomed to New York before school starts - they knew how she hates being unprepared.
She stops when her voice begins to fail her and crack in the air. So she digs around in her backpack to produce six small, velvet pouches. She hands them out one by one and they each open them gingerly. They’re friendship bracelets, she explained.
Something to remember her by because she’d miss them so much…
Abed immediately put them on with a soft snap and looked expectantly around at the rest, and they followed suit. Troy gestured to Abed and they quickly enacted their version of the Wonder Twins.
She finally succumbed to her tears, blubbering incoherently about how she loved them so much, and she wouldn’t know what she’d do without them. And New York has to have a million more stores like Dildopolis, so most likely she’d be living above another sex store - what would she do without them to shield her from the grossness of it all?
Five pairs of arms enveloped her sobbing form and she heard Pierce wailing along with her, which finally elicited a watery chuckle escape from her lips.
She peeked through the elbows of Britta and Abed and found Jeff’s. He had remained rooted to his seat at the head of the table. When he caught her gaze, he quickly raised a thumbs-up and a slight smile before showing her he had put on his bracelet as well. She nodded her response but could think of nothing to say. Her eyes raked his hairline, the creases around his eyes, his strong nose, and his lips which always seemed to be pulled down in a frown. She traced his jaws, and her fingers prickled as she remembered their graze along her palms when she had grabbed them in both her hands. The breath in her throat threatens to choke her and she forces herself to look away.
===
They go dancing at the nightclub downtown. Not surprisingly, Jeff doesn’t show up. But she doesn’t mind.
At least she thinks she doesn’t until it's four hours later and she’s being pushed out of Abed’s dad’s beat up pick-up truck by Troy. Falling gracelessly on her knees, her skirt blowing up in the process, she looks up and realizes she’s at the entrance of Jeff’s apartment building.
“Guys, what the he-“ She squealed, trying to dislodge her heel from sinking in the grass. But all she received in response was a struggling engine and then a muffled cackling. Looking up, she caught the tail of the truck drifting down the block with Troy hanging surreptitiously out the passenger window, waving like a delusional maniac. She barely had time to register what exactly happened when she heard the lobby door open behind her and a sharp sliver of light illimunated the pathway. Jeff was walking toward her, his cell-phone pressed to his ears, a perplexed look on his face.
He helped her up, brushing the bits of grass off her arms, “Those guys are losing their touch; they gave you up before asking for the ransom.” He smiled a bit hesitantly at her. She felt slightly dizzy, “All I asked them to do was take me home…” she tried to explain this wasn’t her idea. That she had no clue why on earth their two friends would do such a thing and if he could call her a cab or something, she could get out of his way and go on home, he was probably busy doing something else which would explain why he didn’t come out tonight.
A rough, callused hand cupped her chin and forced her to look up. His lips had curved into a slight smile and she felt her shoulders relax and her whole body drop forward.
“Come inside.” His arm was rubbing hers gently, before grasping lightly at her elbow and led her towards the building. She stumbled a bit before her feet figured themselves out and followed him quietly, the whole while staring at his fingers curled around her arm.
She stepped into the apartment as softly as she could and took her time lining up her shoes by the door, not wanting to disturb anything around her. He closed the door after them and strode inside, throwing his jacket on his shoe cabinet and slipping off his leather sandals simultaneously.
“Would you like anything to drink?” he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen. She shrugged timidly and settled herself on the edge of the chair by the table. She tried to remember the last time she was in his apartment. As she watched him dig through a few cabinets to find some clean cups the vision of her sitting atop the counters so many months ago as he prepared them dinner, or her leaning against him as he poured them their morning coffee ruthlessly stormed through her mind.
When he finally settled down across the table from her, he pushed a steaming mug of tea in front of her and gestured for her to drink. “Come on, you were just pushed out of a moving vehicle, I would think that’s traumatizing. We’ll get those perps in the morning.” She obliged him with a soft chucked and wrapped her cold, slightly shaking hands around the cup and took a small sip.
There were several minutes, maybe several days and weeks and numerous setting suns of silence before either of them spoke. Then it happened. She didn’t know what made her do it, but when Jeff’s phone began ringing, she thought of the possibility of him having spent the evening with someone else rather than go dancing with them…with her and she couldn’t push the image out of her head. She stood up as he made to answer it and slapped his Blackberry away just as his fingers wrapped around it. The black plastic phone clattered noisily as it was propelled across the kitchen floor. Before he could so much as sputter indignantly, words immediately died as she closed upon his lips with her own.
There was an explosion in her chest that was missing for so many months. That dull, resounding ache which kept her up at night and she moaned into the pain. He responded with a firm grip of her bottom and pushed her down so she was straddling his lap. There was a fervent tangle of fingers, hair and tongues. The phone kept chiming and vibrating but it only added to their urgency to touch, taste and savour. He hoisted her up to his waist as he stood up and laid her down on the table, their mugs smashed on the ground; liquid and porcelain sprayed around the floor as they clawed through their clothes and skin. He raised himself up slightly and ripped off his shirt and was about to push down his jeans and briefs when she reached for him, wanting to help, to hurry him along, But his fingers met hers halfway, stilling them and gripping them tight.
“Jeff, please.”
He raised her hand up to his lips and kissed teach finger one by one; letting his tongue wet them gently. Impatient, she lifted her hips off the cool surface of the table and pressed her heat against the crotch of his jeans and smiled splendidly as she felt the telling hardening even through the tough denim.
“Jeff…”
===
It was all he needed. He grabbed the waistband of her skirt, not caring to notice it wasn’t elastic and proceeded to rip off the seams and buttons; tugging painfully against her skin but she hardly cared as she threw off her blouse and bra at the same time. Her breasts came free, having escaped the confines of the cotton bra; they heaved deliciously with her every breath, getting more exaggerated as her want grew. His large hand grabbed the generous bosom and he leant down as his thumb grazed her nipple and he choked into the crook of her neck. She fumbled, searching for his other hand and pushed it down between her legs. Rasping into her ear, he deftly slipped two fingers inside of her and she almost choked, her hips writhing in the air, begging him for more.
Beads of sweat were slipping down his nose and she kissed them away before he devoured her lips with his own. His thumb curled upwards, relieving her pulsing clit and she had to break away from their kiss and press her teeth against his collarbone to prevent from screaming out loud.
He removed his fingers, unable to stand it any longer, he pushed down his jeans and briefs and entered her. He hissed sharply, almost overpowered by the heat and tightness that closed up around him.
“Fucking hell, Annie.” He gasped hoarsely. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her narrow waist and holding her body tightly to his own. Their breath caught as their skin crashed against each other with every heaving motion. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the apartment; they were desperately filling their lungs to keep up but his brain seemed to be suffocating, everything felt so hot, so tight, so fucking on the brink between life and death. He wanted it to stop, but he knew if he did, he’d just die.
With one final, quaking crash she came with a shuddering gasp and went limp in his arms, and he followed shortly after. He laid her back down on the table and he slumped gently on top of her, cradling her head in hands. Slowly, his mind began clearing and he could hear sounds of traffic through his kitchen window again. He felt her sit beneath him and he looked down at her to see a pair of wide bue eyes staring back. He rested a palm against her cheek and smiled. She nuzzled him slightly and held his hand in place, making sure he wouldn’t move it.
“Jeff…”
“Yah?”
“I’m cold.”
He barked a laugh and stood up, and lifted her from the table, careful avoid the shards of porcelain on the floor and made his way to the bedroom. He let her down on the soft sheets and climbed in next to her.
She scooted toward the centre of the mattress and quickly dived beneath the covers and he waited for her to get comfortably settled before reaching out for her. She laid down her head on his outstretched arm and her soft brown hair splayed out across his forearm and pillow. In silence, they stared at one another for a while, not quite knowing what to say or what should be said. She broke the peace first.
“How have you been?”
He took a deep breath, and studied the strands of her hair before replying.
“I…have been through hell and back.” He smiled ruefully in the semi-darkness and felt her move closer toward him. His other arm made to reach out for her waist and wrapped it around her, locking her body in place.
“Jeffrey…”
“Annie…”
He felt her giggle, rather than heard it. Soft puffs of air against his skin, her fingertips began feathering along his stomach. “Jeff, I’m moving to New York.”
He expelled a long breath through his nose. “I know.”
“I thought…I thought if I go away, I’ll become more of the girl who can date you. Who is appropriate to love you and be with you. That if I become this mature, sophisticated woman, no one would think twice about us being together. No one would look at Little Annie Riding Hood dating big bad Jeff Winger.”
“Seriously? You’re likening me to a predacious wolf?”
She ignored him as he knew she would. She lifted herself from his arms and climbed over him, locking him down with her arms and legs. The blanket slipped from her body but all he could see were her eyes in the soft light from the window: fiery and determined.
“You’d think after all these months apart, we’d know more about ourselves now. But all I have learned is how much I want you. The more I am by myself I am just pounded by the incessant need to be with you, wanting you. So, all these months I have just been working towards you, Jeff Winger.”
He looked up at her, her hair mussed and wild. The tears were beginning to fall and he made to brush them away but she slapped his hands down.
“You make me, Jeff. That’s all there is. That’s all I know.”
There she was, skin flushed, eyes red, cheeks wet, hair messy and he smiled. She glared at him and gave an impatient snort.
“Why are you smiling!? This isn’t funny Je-“
“I love you.”
She stopped, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion. He pulled his fingers from her grip and ran them through her hair, smoothing out the tangles.
“I love you.” He repeated. “That’s all I know. That’s all I need to know.”
As her lips spread into a glorious smile, and her tears came down more earnestly, he thought of what he just did. As he pulled her down so she collapsed in a heap of relief and ecstasy against him, he thought of how he just told Annie he loved her and the world didn’t end. There was no heavenly apparition to smite him to pieces. There was no earthquake which broke open the middle of his apartment, revealing gnarly hands reaching to pull him into Hell. There was no angry mob of brandished torches and pitchforks outside his door, chanting for his head on a stake.
Instead, he heard the distant barks of dogs in the neighbourhood, the honks of cars in night traffic and the occasional laughter of strangers traveling from down on the street. There were soft plodding of footsteps from the people above his apartment and someone was vacuuming next door.
As he wrapped the covers around Annie’s soft body and murmured quietly into her ear, he realized he felt no guilt, nor any sense of wrong doing. He just felt…calm.
“Annie.”
He felt her turn to face him.
“Let’s go to New York together.”
“Are you sure?”
“Annie, I’m done playing by other people’s rules. Let’s do this because as sick or creepy as it is to society or to whomever the fuck thinks can judge how I want to live my life, they can’t convince me that I don’t love you. They convinced me that I didn’t need you before, and it almost killed me. I won’t let them do it again.”
He sat up and pulled her back with him so he rested against his headboard,
“We need to move on so the rest of the world can move on too. Look, don’t you get it? This is the first time I am convinced that what I’m defending is the right thing. I’m on the good side here for once and they’re not going to take that away from me. If I ever needed to win before, it’s now.”
He kissed her.
Their worlds spin.
But it doesn’t end.
They’ll set their own standards. They’ll set their own norms.
This is the tale of a destruction of innocence.
This is the beginning of a revolution.
===
“The truth is, there’s been perverseness, and willfulness of attitude in many of the things you’ve done. At the center of a sick psyche there is a sick spirit. But, I love you. And we have no other choice, but to forgive each other.”
--- Joey, “Interiors”. (1978)