FIC: From Afar (The OC, Marissa/Alex)
I was cleaning up my desktop and came across a Malex fic that I wrote. Some have read this fic before as I posted it on a Malex forum a year (and two months) ago. I've re-edited some parts. Comments are highly appreciated!
From Afar
One-shot | A/U
Author: sapphire_magick
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairing: Marissa/Alex
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
Summary: Alternate Universe so expect the different.
A/N: ‘You’ are Marissa.
A/N2: PTB = Powers That Be
A/N3: *pronouns in Christina Aguilera’s song “Inflation” have been changed to suit the context.
You are Miss Popular in Harbor High, constantly surrounded by superficial, giggly girls who would give anything to be you. Who wouldn’t want to be? You’re wealthy, drop dead gorgeous, have parents who don’t give a shit about what you do - as long as you’re getting high academic marks. Otherwise you have everything, every girl yearns to have and be.
You’re always wanted, desired by the male species, either in or outside of school. You notice how their eyes watch the way you sway your hips as you walk down the street - or more correctly put - how they practically drool as they stare at your ass, tightly snugged in a pair low-raised jeans. They’re like dogs. They slobber all over your designer shoes, in a rush to open the car door for you or to move out of your way when you’re walking down the hallway.
Welcome to the world of all things superficial. Nasty place. But whatever. You’re not going to dwell on the philosophies of why you were born into this world and the whatnot. ‘Cause that’s reserved for those deep thinking people and you’re not one of them. It’s a fact that you gladly accept: no confusion for your pretty head.
That was then. In the space of a few weeks, all your values and opinions that you’ve nicely categorised were yanked from their rightful places and upended onto your creamy-white bedroom carpet that your maid just vacuumed.
How should you put it? As every fable and moral known to humankind, people learn a thing or two. Not only did you learn some things, there was one ‘thing’ that seem to land smack down right at your feet, obscuring all other visions. You have one vision - the one in front of you - but blurring the peripheral vision is just reaching to the status quo of ridiculous.
Or so you think.
Maybe it’s your bitter mind talking but who wouldn’t be all sour grapes when your heart is telling your brain different signals? Yet, after two or so days, your body starts to produce some strange chemical reactions that you have never experienced in your young and healthy life. The grapes aren’t getting any sweeter when you have your body and heart demanding your brain to give in. The brain, however, is stubborn and refuses to acknowledge anything different.
…and it seems like the ever-bright captain of your school soccer team also think alike.
You try to suppress a shudder as a sandy-haired boy sporting a soccer uniform approaches you. Even though, he’s the captain of the soccer team, it doesn’t automatically mean that he gets the most popular girl in the school. That is, you. You guess that concept never entered his head - either that or he’s just too ‘special’ to give that thought his limited attention.
You lower your head to whisper to one of your followers to take your place so you don’t have to repeat what you’ve said last week and the week before that to this poor excuse of a jock. He’s so slow at registering what’s actually going on in front of him that it’s simply impossible to communicate with that guy. It would just rebound off his large oh-so-manly chest (rumour has it that he shaves his chest hair) and back in your face. Rolling your eyes at Luke, who is still going through his motions with such snail-like slowness that some Powers That Be up there must have hit the slow-mo button accidentally, you turn around and walk across the lawn, only to have your eyes land upon the blonde.
Your confident walk seems to flatter to a slow crawl before coming to a complete stop as one of the most gorgeous girls in the entire school scrolls across the quadrangle to sit down with her friends. You observe how she gracefully drops her bag, filled with her textbooks - calculus, her-story (her cutely and appropriately named subject “his-tory”; always the feminist) and economics - to the way she greets her friends with her trademark gorgeous smile.
The irony that the PTB throw upon your life never ceases to amaze you. The most beautiful and sought-after girl in the school is in love with one of the smartest and most talented girls in the state - a fact proudly trumpeted by the principal on the first day of assembly. The first day she entered your school, the first day she stopped you cold with those crystal blue eyes and as cliché as it sounds, in that one specific moment you felt that she tore through all the facades you created so hard in your sixteen years on Earth to shreds. The distance didn’t matter, she on the stage up front while you were at the back of the school auditorium hall, you were instantly captured within her blue orbs and striped naked before her. From that day on, you’ve been walking with no purpose in life - it was as if she has complete control over what you think and do because no matter how much you try to continue your life's motions, they just don’t give you the same satisfaction anymore.
Trying to shake off the stalker-ish feeling that has risen within, you swallow to wet your dry throat and continue, with some difficulty, to reach the building without stealing glances at the blonde. Needless to say, you fail miserably. Not only did you openly stare at her beautiful profile, but you can’t seem to take your eyes off her. Quite literally. You don’t know this until you’re nose to nose with a gangly kid that you always see hanging around your blonde.
Your blonde.
Enter the possessiveness. No. No, no, no, this is simply too much. You can’t deal with what your heart is telling you… or what your body wants to…
To press against the blonde… how your hand itches to stroke her smooth cheeks, her nose, her lips… to taste her shiny, cherry glossed lips… to have her respond to your touch…
You snap out of your reverie with a heavy blush gracing your cheeks as the skinny kid (What was his name again? Seth?) asks if you’re alright. But before you could open your mouth to answer, he mutters something and quickly walks over to the blonde’s table. Slightly miffed that you didn’t get to say anything (Well, snarl anything) you turn on your $765 Gucci heels and continue on your way.
------
It wasn’t until a few days after that you'd learnt her name was Alex. She’s been constantly haunting your dreams and it seems like this infatuation isn’t going to be disappearing any time soon. Every time she comes near, you want to reach over and pull her into your embrace to touch, hold and kiss her to oblivion.
You close your eyes and attempt to suspend consciousness, but tonight, sleep is just impossible. Alex’s smiling face keeps appearing before you, no matter how much you try to blank your mind. Swinging your legs over your bed, you switch on your ipod and hope for the best that the music is going to pull you towards some much needed beauty sleep.
-- Intrigues me with every move
Till I’m breathless, I’m helpless
Can’t keep my cool
Steals my heart when she* takes my hand
And we dance to the rhythm of the band
Feel her* fingertips grip my hips
And I slip as we dip into a state of bliss
A delicate hand slowly glides down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before sliding into a perfect fit of your hand.
“Dance with me?” she softly asked, her warm breath caressing your ear, sending light shivers up and down your spine.
Turning your head towards the sound of her voice, you connect your green eyes to her sparkling crystal pools of blue and with a gentle squeeze of your hand; you pull her to the dance floor. Holding her closely, you sway to the slow beat of a song playing as you gaze into her eyes memorised. You’re under her spell, and you love every second of it. Your left hand makes its way to her waist, your fingers lightly touching her hip, almost tasting her sweet rose-vanilla scented skin, but disappointingly not. You swallow nervously, trying to contain your lively conjured visuals of her bare skin against your equally undressed state, but it just isn’t working. Her eyes still on yours as her right hand reaches up and tucks a few loose, silky strands behind your ear. Suddenly her soft warm lips are on yours, moving with such urgency and passion that you’re completely left gasping. Not to be overdone, you press your body fully into hers, moaning almost with desire as your breasts comes into contact with hers before you take her lips for a searing kiss.
Breathing heavily, you lightly caress her cheek with your thumb before claiming her beautifully bruised mouth once again with yours. Sneaking your tongue out, you lick her bottom lip. In response, she opens her mouth, letting your tongue explore her mouth before engaging in a tongue battle for dominance.
In your heated lust-filled and driven brain, you register her guiding you backwards to a wall. You smile into the kiss and giggle: she definitely wants you. She questioningly looks at you before cupping your face, enquiring “What’s so funny?” with such sweetness that you have to laugh.
“Oh nothing,” you answer with a smile.
She must have interpreted as something because she replies with the narrowing of her eyes and quirk of the eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe… it’s because you’re so charming and stunningly beautiful that I can’t believe I’m here with you,” you quickly bursts out, eyes widening at your admittance.
“Just maybe?” she questions with a smirk on her lips.
“You heard me.” You refuse to repeat what you embarrassingly confessed a few seconds ago.
“Then I better get to work then, shouldn’t I?” Her crystal blue eyes twinkles mischievously and with that, she presses her lips to yours and pushes you, once again, towards a wall.
Closing your eyes, you relish her strawberry and watermelon taste, velvety touch and vanilla scent and let all of her wash over you. As you ready your body for the impact of a cold wall, your eyes fly open and with a disappointed gasp and cry, you realise it was just another one of your very vivid dreams with the inclusion of a realistic all-surround system. You’re surrounded in morning light and your Alex is most definitely not here. The pounding of your heart is the only sound that resonates in the cold air of your otherwise silent bedroom.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you stare out of two large clear French doors and with a flop; you turned your back on the terrible weather. You don’t need the rain; you have Alex to completely drench you in wetness already - no effort required. With a groan, you stumble out of bed and make your way over to your bathroom. Time for a shower and a change of fresh underwear before another ass-biting day of school begins.
And, of course, another day spent staring at Alex.
-----
The last you see of her is on your graduation day but without any plan to act, you stare at her from a distance away and memorise the way her blue eyes sparkle with glee and mischief as she tilts her head back laughing, all the way to her very tip of her eyelashes… because you know, at the back of your mind, that you won’t be seeing her again.
Sometimes fate can be so cruel as to refuse you the person you yearn for, the person you want to embrace, kiss, and hold hands… to simply be in their presence. You have never let your resolve flatter the slightest, not once, and you wonder if, what if, you did give a tiny indication, a little slip, that you care for her? Would she have turned around and return the gesture? Would you be with her now? You can’t help but feel a twinge of regret for not having the courage to walk confidently up to her, introduce yourself to her and giving some kind of excuse to get to know her.
The End #1
Alternate Ending
From Afar
One-shot | A/U
Author: sapphire_magick
Fandom: The O.C.
Pairing: Marissa/Alex
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
Summary: Alternate Universe so expect the different.
A/N: ‘You’ are Marissa.
A/N2: PTB = Powers That Be
A/N3: *pronouns in Christina Aguilera’s song “Inflation” have been changed to suit the context.
You are Miss Popular in Harbor High, constantly surrounded by superficial, giggly girls who would give anything to be you. Who wouldn’t want to be? You’re wealthy, drop dead gorgeous, have parents who don’t give a shit about what you do - as long as you’re getting high academic marks. Otherwise you have everything, every girl yearns to have and be.
You’re always wanted, desired by the male species, either in or outside of school. You notice how their eyes watch the way you sway your hips as you walk down the street - or more correctly put - how they practically drool as they stare at your ass, tightly snugged in a pair low-raised jeans. They’re like dogs. They slobber all over your designer shoes, in a rush to open the car door for you or to move out of your way when you’re walking down the hallway.
Welcome to the world of all things superficial. Nasty place. But whatever. You’re not going to dwell on the philosophies of why you were born into this world and the whatnot. ‘Cause that’s reserved for those deep thinking people and you’re not one of them. It’s a fact that you gladly accept: no confusion for your pretty head.
That was then. In the space of a few weeks, all your values and opinions that you’ve nicely categorised were yanked from their rightful places and upended onto your creamy-white bedroom carpet that your maid just vacuumed.
How should you put it? As every fable and moral known to humankind, people learn a thing or two. Not only did you learn some things, there was one ‘thing’ that seem to land smack down right at your feet, obscuring all other visions. You have one vision - the one in front of you - but blurring the peripheral vision is just reaching to the status quo of ridiculous.
Or so you think.
Maybe it’s your bitter mind talking but who wouldn’t be all sour grapes when your heart is telling your brain different signals? Yet, after two or so days, your body starts to produce some strange chemical reactions that you have never experienced in your young and healthy life. The grapes aren’t getting any sweeter when you have your body and heart demanding your brain to give in. The brain, however, is stubborn and refuses to acknowledge anything different.
…and it seems like the ever-bright captain of your school soccer team also think alike.
You try to suppress a shudder as a sandy-haired boy sporting a soccer uniform approaches you. Even though, he’s the captain of the soccer team, it doesn’t automatically mean that he gets the most popular girl in the school. That is, you. You guess that concept never entered his head - either that or he’s just too ‘special’ to give that thought his limited attention.
You lower your head to whisper to one of your followers to take your place so you don’t have to repeat what you’ve said last week and the week before that to this poor excuse of a jock. He’s so slow at registering what’s actually going on in front of him that it’s simply impossible to communicate with that guy. It would just rebound off his large oh-so-manly chest (rumour has it that he shaves his chest hair) and back in your face. Rolling your eyes at Luke, who is still going through his motions with such snail-like slowness that some Powers That Be up there must have hit the slow-mo button accidentally, you turn around and walk across the lawn, only to have your eyes land upon the blonde.
Your confident walk seems to flatter to a slow crawl before coming to a complete stop as one of the most gorgeous girls in the entire school scrolls across the quadrangle to sit down with her friends. You observe how she gracefully drops her bag, filled with her textbooks - calculus, her-story (her cutely and appropriately named subject “his-tory”; always the feminist) and economics - to the way she greets her friends with her trademark gorgeous smile.
The irony that the PTB throw upon your life never ceases to amaze you. The most beautiful and sought-after girl in the school is in love with one of the smartest and most talented girls in the state - a fact proudly trumpeted by the principal on the first day of assembly. The first day she entered your school, the first day she stopped you cold with those crystal blue eyes and as cliché as it sounds, in that one specific moment you felt that she tore through all the facades you created so hard in your sixteen years on Earth to shreds. The distance didn’t matter, she on the stage up front while you were at the back of the school auditorium hall, you were instantly captured within her blue orbs and striped naked before her. From that day on, you’ve been walking with no purpose in life - it was as if she has complete control over what you think and do because no matter how much you try to continue your life's motions, they just don’t give you the same satisfaction anymore.
Trying to shake off the stalker-ish feeling that has risen within, you swallow to wet your dry throat and continue, with some difficulty, to reach the building without stealing glances at the blonde. Needless to say, you fail miserably. Not only did you openly stare at her beautiful profile, but you can’t seem to take your eyes off her. Quite literally. You don’t know this until you’re nose to nose with a gangly kid that you always see hanging around your blonde.
Your blonde.
Enter the possessiveness. No. No, no, no, this is simply too much. You can’t deal with what your heart is telling you… or what your body wants to…
To press against the blonde… how your hand itches to stroke her smooth cheeks, her nose, her lips… to taste her shiny, cherry glossed lips… to have her respond to your touch…
You snap out of your reverie with a heavy blush gracing your cheeks as the skinny kid (What was his name again? Seth?) asks if you’re alright. But before you could open your mouth to answer, he mutters something and quickly walks over to the blonde’s table. Slightly miffed that you didn’t get to say anything (Well, snarl anything) you turn on your $765 Gucci heels and continue on your way.
------
It wasn’t until a few days after that you'd learnt her name was Alex. She’s been constantly haunting your dreams and it seems like this infatuation isn’t going to be disappearing any time soon. Every time she comes near, you want to reach over and pull her into your embrace to touch, hold and kiss her to oblivion.
You close your eyes and attempt to suspend consciousness, but tonight, sleep is just impossible. Alex’s smiling face keeps appearing before you, no matter how much you try to blank your mind. Swinging your legs over your bed, you switch on your ipod and hope for the best that the music is going to pull you towards some much needed beauty sleep.
-- Intrigues me with every move
Till I’m breathless, I’m helpless
Can’t keep my cool
Steals my heart when she* takes my hand
And we dance to the rhythm of the band
Feel her* fingertips grip my hips
And I slip as we dip into a state of bliss
A delicate hand slowly glides down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before sliding into a perfect fit of your hand.
“Dance with me?” she softly asked, her warm breath caressing your ear, sending light shivers up and down your spine.
Turning your head towards the sound of her voice, you connect your green eyes to her sparkling crystal pools of blue and with a gentle squeeze of your hand; you pull her to the dance floor. Holding her closely, you sway to the slow beat of a song playing as you gaze into her eyes memorised. You’re under her spell, and you love every second of it. Your left hand makes its way to her waist, your fingers lightly touching her hip, almost tasting her sweet rose-vanilla scented skin, but disappointingly not. You swallow nervously, trying to contain your lively conjured visuals of her bare skin against your equally undressed state, but it just isn’t working. Her eyes still on yours as her right hand reaches up and tucks a few loose, silky strands behind your ear. Suddenly her soft warm lips are on yours, moving with such urgency and passion that you’re completely left gasping. Not to be overdone, you press your body fully into hers, moaning almost with desire as your breasts comes into contact with hers before you take her lips for a searing kiss.
Breathing heavily, you lightly caress her cheek with your thumb before claiming her beautifully bruised mouth once again with yours. Sneaking your tongue out, you lick her bottom lip. In response, she opens her mouth, letting your tongue explore her mouth before engaging in a tongue battle for dominance.
In your heated lust-filled and driven brain, you register her guiding you backwards to a wall. You smile into the kiss and giggle: she definitely wants you. She questioningly looks at you before cupping your face, enquiring “What’s so funny?” with such sweetness that you have to laugh.
“Oh nothing,” you answer with a smile.
She must have interpreted as something because she replies with the narrowing of her eyes and quirk of the eyebrow.
“Okay, maybe… it’s because you’re so charming and stunningly beautiful that I can’t believe I’m here with you,” you quickly bursts out, eyes widening at your admittance.
“Just maybe?” she questions with a smirk on her lips.
“You heard me.” You refuse to repeat what you embarrassingly confessed a few seconds ago.
“Then I better get to work then, shouldn’t I?” Her crystal blue eyes twinkles mischievously and with that, she presses her lips to yours and pushes you, once again, towards a wall.
Closing your eyes, you relish her strawberry and watermelon taste, velvety touch and vanilla scent and let all of her wash over you. As you ready your body for the impact of a cold wall, your eyes fly open and with a disappointed gasp and cry, you realise it was just another one of your very vivid dreams with the inclusion of a realistic all-surround system. You’re surrounded in morning light and your Alex is most definitely not here. The pounding of your heart is the only sound that resonates in the cold air of your otherwise silent bedroom.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you stare out of two large clear French doors and with a flop; you turned your back on the terrible weather. You don’t need the rain; you have Alex to completely drench you in wetness already - no effort required. With a groan, you stumble out of bed and make your way over to your bathroom. Time for a shower and a change of fresh underwear before another ass-biting day of school begins.
And, of course, another day spent staring at Alex.
-----
The last you see of her is on your graduation day but without any plan to act, you stare at her from a distance away and memorise the way her blue eyes sparkle with glee and mischief as she tilts her head back laughing, all the way to her very tip of her eyelashes… because you know, at the back of your mind, that you won’t be seeing her again.
Sometimes fate can be so cruel as to refuse you the person you yearn for, the person you want to embrace, kiss, and hold hands… to simply be in their presence. You have never let your resolve flatter the slightest, not once, and you wonder if, what if, you did give a tiny indication, a little slip, that you care for her? Would she have turned around and return the gesture? Would you be with her now? You can’t help but feel a twinge of regret for not having the courage to walk confidently up to her, introduce yourself to her and giving some kind of excuse to get to know her.
The End #1
Alternate Ending