romeo & juliet.

[baby osanne]

This really wasn't happening.

She was suppose to be on her way to meeting her father to have dinner and she was here, stuck in a light house because of a raging storm. It didn't help that it was cold or that she was drenched to the bone from the ongoing rain outside. Her designer shoes slightly clicked on the floor, the black Loubiton pumps making her long legs look even longer than they already were; as if they went on forever. She had a simple dress on that was a dark blue and clung to her slender and fit frame. It was sleeveless, looking like it was fabric wrapped around her to outline her dangerous curves. Hair had been up but with the rain was now down and spilling against her slender shoulders. She would looking down at her phone, attempting to make it work but the rain had basically ruined the wonderful phone she loved so much. Lie, she sort of hated cellphones. They were convenient but they were also extremely annoying like right now when they weren't working like they were suppose to. It was for emergencies, right? This was an emergency.

She couldn't be stuck all night with Luke inside the lighthouse. It was like suicide for her. She didn't hate the guy, but she did hate the way he treated her-as if she were stupid or something. It bothered her tremendously and normally she would have flipped him off and told him to shove it where the sun don't shine if her father hadn't convinced her otherwise. She was just upset because her mother wasn't around anymore and she hadn't gotten over it. She preached to him that he should have gotten over it because it had been years. Her mother passed away only four months ago-enough to keep her slightly insane and bipolar for a while. The Swedish curse words slipped out from under her breathe, which came out in a chilled puff, as she stood by the window, her back to Luke, attempting to get a signal. Giving up, she sighed deeply and simply left the phone on the window sill to hopefully dry off. She shouldn't have let Cammie convince her to stop by the bonfire that was going on at the coast by the light house and why no one came to the lighthouse for shelter, she had no idea.

With her hair dropping, she ran her fingers through it and the squeezed it out in hopes of getting the excess water out as much as possible. She let the moon pour in, outlining her silhouette as she reached for the edges of her dress to do the same but her dress was too short. It was above mid thigh mainly because she was tall and her legs made it seem as so. However, if she was short, it probably would have reached mid thigh or her knees at the very least. She was tempted to say something to piss him off but decided against it. She would much rather take comfort in the rain pouring down outside than to simple start an argument for the sake of starting one. Turning around to she was facing him slightly, she leaned against the wall, a million and one things running through her mind and it was obvious by the stressed out look that seemed to shine in her blue, vixen orbs. There was only ever so much a gal like her could take and sometimes she just felt like she was at her breaking point. Now, however, was not one of those times because she refused.

Luke was there and every time they talked it only lead to bad things called arguments and that was the last thing she needed right now. What she needed was to relax. But she was currently blaming her current predicament on him. If she hadn't been arguing with him at the bonfire away from everyone else and then led her hear when it started pouring...away from everyone and into the comforts of a painfully cold and lonesome lighthouse, she probably would have been in her car on her way to the next town over to the expensive restaurant where her father was most likely patiently waiting for her. She should have never let him follow her, should have never listened to Cammie...What if something happened to her father? She'd kill herself if something happened to him. So she leaned against the wall in silence, not looking at all in Luke's direction, and hugged her thin shoulders and torso in order to keep herself warm, ankle crossed.

---

--lucas

[lucas wellington]

Lucas Wellington was not a big fan of Baby Osanne, and that had quickly spread like wildfire through the student body. Well, most things that involved him did spread quickly. But within the time span of a day, the news of the conflict had been posted on siren song. So that had been notice that it was time to throw a party, to steer the attention away from whatever it was that was going on. Plus, everyone was waiting for it, he knew. It had been a week since school had opened, and it had been a long week indeed. It was SBH tradition to throw a bonfire at the beginning of the year, but this particular bonfire was not for the general public. It was not a place for freshmen to try their hand at alcohol only to get their stomachs pumped the next day as so many had. So this bonfire was for the elite few that he had invited. Roughly, thirty of SBHs most popular students, with Lucas at the center of the ring, he knew his place well. He had stood by watching the other alpha male for the past four years and it came no surprise that when he was a senior, the position was passed down to him. He had done his share. He had thrown the epic party in the woods two years ago as a sophomore. It had been so deep in the woods that the administration had heard nothing that night. There had been hundreds of students. And he hadn't gotten caught. The parties in new york city during winter break, he threw those too.

So lamenting back on his years at SBH, they had all been leading up to this senior year. And so it had happened quickly, like all his parties did. A quick cryptic letter to the lucky invitees in typical select fashion. It had been in all code, so anyone who happened to set eyes on it besides those invited, would have no idea what it said. It was signed by no one, and yet all of them knew who it was behind it. As night fell, the fire roared with the slap of the shore in the background.A friend provided the music, hypnotic beats mixed with rock and roll. The keg was set up, with vodka in buckets of ice. That was the charm of Luke's parties. They weren't planned or fancy, they just simply happened.

So Luke talked with a close friend, one he had hooked up with over the summer. She was beautiful, with long, jaded, black hair, dark blue eyes, pouty lips like Angelina Jolie, and luminating white skin. She smiled, nervous around him even though she was never nervous around guys. But Lucas was different. When he entered a room, people couldn't help but glance out of the corner of their eyes, because they had heard the stories about him. It was his eyes that did it. When they fell on a girl, that girl in context would forget about what she was talking about. But that didn't happen often, rarely did he see a girl that he felt that drawn to. Nevertheless, it was a talent that his friends admired, he was the perfect wingman. Night out on the town? Send Luke over to break the ice and a good night was guaranteed. He'd whisper something in her ear, and that was all it would take. He'd never follow through on the girl, he wouldn't sleep with her though. He didn't go around sleeping with every girl he could, because if that was the case, he would have slept with thousands by then. No, he preferred his close girl friends, ones that it was natural with. He was the kind of person you wanted to be around because there was always that chance that something extraordinary would happen. And that was why Lucas Wellington was one of the most well loved guys on campus, even to the people that didn't know him.

And while the girl nervously spoke to him about what he was doing later, his eyes fell on an unwelcome visitor to the party. Everyone had already She had stood by the bonfire with a friend, Cammie who had been invited to the party. Cammie didn't know the rules well though, and he would have to speak with her about it later. He grabbed a beer from the bucket of ice, not from the tap. And then he had headed over to her. He had pulled her away to the side, toward the light house and they had fought. Anger invading every corner of his body. The observant people looked on, like Gio, and the rest minded their own business, content with the alcohol and beautiful company. By then the wind had picked up and it had become clear that it was going to storm. While they fought, he saw the lighthouse door opening due to the heavy wind. That wasn't good.

So as she went on about something else, he left her, ran away as she would taunt him about. It was pouring by the time he reached the lighthouse. He had left the keys to the lighthouse in his safe in his dorm room, he hadn't thought he would need them and he had the only set of keys, ones that had been handed down to him at the end of the previous year. He couldn't risk anything by the lighthouse being open, he had to find someway to close the door to ensure that no one got in. So he reached higher ground to the lighthouse and had tried to close the door, but it hadn't worked. He went inside, upstairs to get a tool of some sorts to close the door from the outside. The door was old though and he didn't want to do any damage to it. But it was too late, because by the time he reached the door again, Baby had followed him in, seeking shelter from the rain. She had closed the door from the inside. He tried opening the door, but cursed under his breath when he realized they had been locked in.

So that was how they had ended up at the top of the tower in the lighthouse together. He had nothing to say to her. He watched the storm devour the sea from the large windows. The top of the lighthouse offered a 360 view over the sea and the coast, and from a distant, he could see the lights from the campus. They stood in silence, he glanced at her as she tried to keep herself warm in the too tiny dress. If he had ever seen his sister dressed in such a short dress, he would have demanded she take it off. Baby clearly knew she was beautiful, and so did the rest of the male population, though Luke would deny it if asked. The lighthouse didn't have heat. He had managed to hide what was necessary before she had seen anything. At the top of the lighthouse, there were few things: a desk, a chair, a dresser, and a piano. In the dresser, sat a blanket and pillows, ones that had been there for years. If worse came to worse, they would end up sleeping there, though that would be part of his worst nightmare.

"Why the fuck did you close the door?" He asked her, running a hand through his damp hair. He took off his jacket and placed it on the chair at the desk. He had dressed for the whether unlike her, with a light gray sweatshirt on over a t-shirt, jeans, and the leather jacket that had gotten wet. The air was thick between them, holding the climax capacity of the arguments that had occurred over the course of the week. She knew perfectly well how to push his buttons, making pre-judgements about things she knew nothing about. She knew her cousin had killed his sister, but she didn't know the details, and neither did he. She avoided his eyes at all cost, smart girl. He took a cigarette out of the pocket of his jeans and lit it with the cheap bic lighter he carried. He saved cigarettes for situations like these. He wasn't a frequent smoker, just occasionally. He opened a window slightly to let out the smoke and a rush of fresh air entered the large, vacant room. "And who the fuck invited you in the first place?" He had no kind words for her. She had angered him more than anyone he'd ever known. The moonlight that had flood in from the large windows illuminated her, making her appear slightly angelic, an illusion that the glow had created. He turned away from the window to face her but he didn't say anything.

Outfit

[baby osanne]

Baby hadn't touched the door. She seriously hadn't. She had rushed in and was practically immediately trying to get her phone dry to contact her father that she would have to cancel. Maybe she'd skip class tomorrow to spend the day with him to make up for Cammie dragging her out here just to end up arguing with someone and then being stuck with that someone in the lighthouse. So she ignored his question about the door, figuring no matter what she said he wouldn't believe her anyway, and kept her arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She didn't regret wearing the dress. It was good for the occasion she was suppose to currently be attending, not for a bonfire she didn't even want to go to in the first place because it was obviously just a set up for hormonally unbalanced teenagers to get shitfaced and she'd never gotten drunk in her life...She wasn't going to start anytime soon.

"Cammie invited me," she stated simply and sternly, having no fear as she looked up at him, locking her eyes onto his without hesitation. She didn't get nervous around him, didn't get weak knees, didn't want to blush or anything. She never really got that way around anyone because, well, it just wasn't a reaction in her. When the cigarette smoke hit her nose, it scrunched up a bit, but she was accustomed to the scent. Her father was a complete chain smoker and when her mother was alive, she was as well. It was a surprise when Baby didn't come out of the womb smoking from how much the two smoked around her, "And I don't think it really matters. It's over anyway," she rolled her bright teal orbs and glanced back out the window, wondering how the hell she was going to get out of there, "This is total shit," she mainly said it to herself, barely audible under her breathe. Yes, the situation seriously was total shit. The last thing she needed was to be stuck with Luke in a lighthouse she didn't even like. Two things she didn't like and now three with his smoking.

Smoking was such a nasty habit. She didn't understand how people could sit there and just light up and puff away. It was like that movie, Thank You For Smoking, where the guy got attacked by Nicorette patches and he almost died or something and the only thing that saved him was smoking cigarettes? Weird. She totally didn't believe it. Turning so her back was to him, she leaned forward slightly, elbows on the window sill as she watched the rain pouring outside, a shiver running down her slender spine since he had the window opened and it was cold enough as it was in the lighthouse to have more cold air coming in. She'd left her damn coat in her car. Crap.

"Plus, Cammi showed me the invite. Can you make it any more obvious? It was the easiest thing in the world to read," she glanced over her thin shoulder, looking at him, once again directly in the eyes, fearlessly, "Guess my cousin isn't totally useless. He actually taught me something I needed," Truth? Baby had no idea how to read that invite that she found in Cammi's dorm. She seriously was just being spiteful for yelling at her during the bonfire and keeping her there longer than she needed to be. She had had a few good conversations going with a couple of guys before he dragged her away...Not that they would have gone anywhere unless Cam convinced her otherwise...But still. She was socializing and she normally wasn't that social of a being at SBH. Looking back out the window, she attempted to turn her phone on but it failed epically. Crap. She felt a tad bit empty without her phone...

Mainly because it was currently her only contact with the outside world so it was like the outside world didn't exist and she was stuck in this surreal life with Mr. Prick over there. Maybe she was just trying to get a rise out of him because she would much rather argue than stand there in silence until the rain passed over. No, she was seriously just being spiteful for him ruining her night more than it already had been. She hadn't closed the door to lock them in. Did he not see how much stronger the wind was at the coast while running in the mornings? Idiot. Complete and utter idiot. That and she didn't want her mind to wander. She had to keep something going on around her so she wouldn't obsessively worry about her father, which was why she was playing with a few strands of her hair, so she wouldn't think about her mother, which was why she was looking out at the view. Baby always did everything for a reason and if she didn't have a reason-then she knew she was officially going insane.

---

--lucas

[lucas wellington]

He had spent countless hours in this lighthouse, for reasons he couldn't reveal. What was normally comfortable territory, was now awkward.

He hated ignorance, really despised it, which is why it was surprising that he was ignorant. He lived in a world where everything was handed to him on a silver platter, one that he'd throw against the wall. He distanced himself from it as much as possible through little acts. Wearing a leather jacket instead of a cardigan, driving a motorcycle instead of cadillac, bringing girls to a tiny restaurant instead of the latest most expensive one. These were little things, the larger acts would come later, or never at all. He would inevitably give up to ignorance, abandon his slight rebellion, and acceptance would take over. Acceptance, the most common characteristic of weakness. Luke was not weak, he would never be for as long as he had a choice. But there would come a day when he would no longer have a choice. He would be forced into going to an ivy league college, where he would of course meet the perfect girl. They'd marry, have a kid, and eventually the passion would die. Or maybe if he was lucky, he'd find the anti-perfect girl.

And why was he thinking of all this? Because he was standing in between his past and present. Baby Osanne had uncovered every feeling that he'd hid away in decrepit corners. So it was inevitable that he think towards his future. He was literally, stuc in between this past and his present in the lighthouse with this girl who had put him in that situation. She made it impossible for him to withstand normalcy, what he had become accustomed to. He prided himself on not following the crowd, but being the leader. And he was, but she didn't know that yet. She didn't know the extent of his power, what pissing him off could do. The power that would usually drive a person crazy only strengthened him, because he didn't care. The power had come easily, through actions that he would have made without the prospect of gaining power, things he had done for his own entertainment. So perhaps buying into that stereotypical anti-rich boy had been following the crowd, but at least he was different from his classmates, ones that thrived on their parents' wealth and only that.

He looked back to her, her eyes locked on his, and he didn't look away. He rubbed a hand over his chin which he hadn't shaved in two days. He felt the prickle of tiny in grown hairs over his fingers, the scruff that he tended to keep. He liked the look more than clean face. Plus, he hated shaving. The slight scruff added more to his anti-rich boy look. "You always dress that way when you go to parties? Last time I checked, innocent virgins weren't wear dresses like that." He asked her, a slight smirk at how overdressed she was. He motioned to the dress with the hand holding the cigarette. He brought it to his lips again and took an easy drag. Smoking wasn't complicated.

When she told him that her cousin had taught her how to read the code, he didn't believer her. There were certain...preliminary actions that were taken against those practices. Legal papers were signed and oaths were taken. He dismissed her horrible lie intended to piss him off. "An admirable effort." He told her, stubbing out his cigarette on the wooden window sill and looking away from her. The bonfire had died out and he assumed everyone was either still getting drunk, enjoying the rain, or walking back through the dark forest back to campus. It was most likely the former of the two.

He thought about what his night would have been like had he not been stuck here with Baby. He would have continued talking to the girl whom he had previously had a "summer fling" with. And then he would have spent time with Gio. And most likely after that, he would have ended up back at his dorm room with the girl. It would have been a good night. "So that institution your mother is in, you came all the way to Maine from...Europe was it? For a mental institution. Why not New York? They have some pretty good ones there, god knows why. If you don't mind me asking, you know since you claim you're fine with openly talking about it and all." He said, crossing his arms, intentionally stirring up controversy, the silence was more uncomfortable than the arguing. This was what he was good at, adding fuel to the fire. Actually, that was what she was best at.

[baby osanne]

"I had been on my way to meeting someone at a restaurant if you really must know," Baby wore everything designer, not because she wanted to, but because it was something her father had shoved down her throat since she was a little girl despite her mother's constant protests against it. Her mother eventually gave in, as they both tended to do to each other. They always argued about something once and only once and it seemed to be solved by the next day. Their fights never dragged on endlessly and it seemed like the passion they had never died out even at the very end. She guessed it was because her mother was never part of this largely superficial world and her father had somewhat exiled himself from it at a young age. Maybe that was why they worked so well together. Then again, she didn't know them back then and if she did that would have been weird.

"McLean Hospital," she answered his question automatically but had turned so she wasn't facing him, locking her jaw as she looked out the window. The only reason she had no problem talking about it was because it was a lie, "My father wanted to go somewhere more secluded that he hadn't been to before and I was just followed," that, at least, was the truth. She knew McLean Hospital was the top mental hospital in the state and wasn't that far from the campus but it wasn't like anyone would bother going over to actually see if her mother was checked in there or not.Of course they wouldn't. They would just take her word for it and that would be the end of it, "I don't see why you would want to know," she glanced over her thin shoulder at him, no hint of amusement or cheerfulness evident. She seemed bitter, really, about everything around her and in a way she had every right to but she also didn't. She was a hypocrite and she knew she was which upset her even more. Everyone was a hypocrite just like everyone was a critic.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself and how dead your sister is?" she knew it was a bitch comment and she remembered someone in the family saying that to her once and how badly it hurt hearing it thrown in her face like that. It had been her grandfather, who never liked her mother and her 'not-a-blue-blood" existence and thus, when she died and Baby had angrily lashed out at him verbally for a spiteful remark he made at her funeral, he told her, Shouldn't you be more concerned about the fact that you don't have a mother anymore? You should worry about how dead she is, not what comes out of my mouth. Baby had been close to crying upon hearing that comment and she promised herself never to make someone feel the way he made her feels basically her whole life and yet here she was, saying it to Luke, because she was getting defensive. Yes, she said she was open with talking about it...Just not with him.

He would just make snide remarks about her pretend insane mother in her pretend insane asylum being all pretend and such and even if her mother was dead, she would still get defensive and just yell back. So why not flip the conversation around?

But of course, her anger didn't last long. Sighing deeply, she turned around to face him, "Sorry," she couldn't help but apologize. It wasn't the right thing to say at all whether she somewhat disliked his presence or not, "That was rude and uncalled for," her apology was actually genuine. She knew when to fess up when she was wrong...occasionally. It wasn't usual for her to be in the wrong in the first place. She'd always been intelligent, generally always right because she knew how to keep to her arguments and knew how to craft them and manipulate words and people in order for them to better benefit her and whatever her were her family's needs. Regardless, she was rude for saying that, so she apologized like she should, running her fingers through her now somewhat dry hair and still scrunching up her nose at the smell from the cigarette.

---

--lucas

[lucas wellington]

At sometime in the past four years, Luke had lost his understanding of right and wrong. The words no longer held any meaning in a world where either could pass as sufficient. There was no longer an authority figure to praise his right moves and punish him for the wrong. The two had been so far mixed together for so long that neither meant anything at all, in fact nothing mattered any more. Some would say that he had been ignorantly blinded. Because wasn't knowing the difference between right and wrong part of being human? Wasn't that knowledge necessary for acting in a proper way? He knew to follow the important parts of the law, like not to drink and drive and not to murder someone. But anything else, drinking underage and the most basic things, he had no boundaries on. He wandered aimlessly as some would say, too confused to stop and think for longer than 30 seconds. He didn't search for an answer either, or rather, he hadn't. But in the comfort of the lighthouse in her presence, he was constantly thinking about right and wrong, asking himself questions, and for the first time, doubting himself in a way he never had. Being trapped up there had forced him to think for more than 30 seconds. And everything started catching up with him.

There was something about the ease of her words as they flew out of her mouth It seemed as if she had rehearsed it. He tried to dismiss the though, why would anyone say their mother was in a mental hospital when she wasn't? But the thoughts wouldn't leave his mind. If someone, a stranger had asked him how his sister had died, he most definitely would dismiss the question and steer the conversation in the absolute opposite direction. Anything to avoid encountering speaking of her, as if that would taint her memory or something.

He moved closer to where she stood. He was so close to her that he could feel the warmth of her steady breath. "What, did you practice that in the mirror a hundred times or something?" He said, with a slight smirk on his face, much too entertained by the thought of her lying about something. Something just felt off about how comfortable she was talking about her crazy mother. He had tried to ignore it, but it was all too obvious.

When she spoke of how he should be worrying about himself and his "dead sister", his eyes hardened but didn't leave hers. He was unsure about what to say to her, a new trend that had never occurred before. She was so fucking annoying, with her all knowing, pretentious nature and the too tiny dress. "And shouldn't you be worrying about how convincing your story sounds? it could really use some work." Her face was in such close proximity to his that his comment sounded all the more harsh than he had originally meant it to be. The words were cold, but crisp, articulate enough to disguise the hurt of her previous comment. The last time he had been this close to a girl, he had been either kissing or fucking her.

He saw her lips move in the formation of the word sorry, but he didn't hear it, for he was momentarily distracted by the echoing sound of the strong waves driven by the storm crashing against the jagged coast. Following that, there was a brilliant flash of lightening that illuminated the entire room past what meager the light the moon had previously offered. And once again the room was dark, the only source of light the moon. In his head, he counted starting from one. Whenever there was a storm, he and Lyla had would always count after lightening until the thunder crashed. However high of a number they got up to when the thunder stroke, that was how many miles away the storm was. It was silly, but a tradition. "17..18." And that was when the booming sound of the thunder occurred, 9 miles away. The smell of the cigarette had finally died. It was eerily quiet after the noise from the thunder had died. The only sound was the rain beating down above them. He broke the silence. "Really? Baby is apologizing. Fucking incredible. Did you practice that in the mirror too?"

[baby osanne]

"No," she answered both of his questions, if she practiced in the mirror, bluntly as she looked up at him, easily keeping her eyes locked onto his, "and I have nothing to prove to you. So whether it's convincing or not, I really don't care," the entire population believed the story mainly because all the old money families believed it. Plus, it wasn't like they would go to her funeral. It would be pointless for people whom her mother disliked highly to be at her funeral paying their respects. She'd rather piss on their graves than have them attend her funeral which wasn't even really a funeral. She and her father buried her in New Jersey right next to her own mother and then once night fall fell, set off fireworks because that was what she wanted. She didn't want them to be depressed after she died-she always said so. Thus they had fireworks in celebration of her finally being able to sleep and not be in pain anymore.

But it only made the pain ache even worse.

"Unlike you, I don't want a pity party," she locked her jaw, "So pretending she's alive keeps that from happening," people didn't pity Baby Osanne. She had money, she had power, she had the looks, she had intelligence, she had everything any girl her age could ever ask for; designer shoes, a wonderful education, traveling, the world at her disposal. She obviously would rather people think she was the perfect girl with the perfect life than some gal whose mother was murdered, who now had an alcoholic father, and who was so heavily in denial it was ridiculous. She obviously went to extreme lengths to make sure she was perfect and met the expectations required of her but it was mostly her own expectations and her own version of perfection because she didn't like entirely following the orders of someone else.

Also, saying her mother was in a hospital kept people from asking more questions. No one wants to know about the insane or mentally ill. They generally just keep their mouths shut and change the subject for her which creates less work for her. Whether she just admitted to having lied to basically everyone and that her mother was really dead...well, she was sure she could convince her father to move to California or something. It was always too cold and rainy here and she was starting to miss the sunlight, "And just so you know," her voice went a tad bit softer than before so only he could hear her, "You're way too close for comfort."

Much to close. She didn't like how he was practically breathing down her throat...It made weird feelings erupt in her stomach. Maybe it was because the last time she had sex it was a one night stand and wasn't even that great. She felt dirty in the morning too...ew. She had sat in the tub scrubbing her skin for a good forty minutes wanting to get the sex smell off of her and leaving her skin pink from scrubbing so hard. She remained silent for a few moments, never letting her gaze leave his as if she did, it would mean he won or something and she didn't want to lose whatever this was that was going on. She could feel her body wanting to get all her pent up anger and frustrations out but not being able to because she was standing firmly in her place, refusing to move unless he did. There was no way she would become the submissive one. No, she had too much pride for that.

Another rumble of thunder made her close her eyes momentarily, remembering how that glass shape, the one that brought her parents together, was made, but just as quickly as she closed them, she opened them again, still not moving from her spot, still not wanting to give in. What the hell was his deal with standing so damn close to her? It was easier when he was all the way on the other side and not so close she could smell his stupid delicious cologne or the stench of cigarettes. Asshole. He needed to go back to his corner and just leave her alone until morning.

---

--lucas

[lucas wellington]

There were a thousand things he could have said to her.

But mostly he was just angry. She had acted like him still being remotely upset about his sister's death was the worst possible thing. But who had she been to tell him that? At least he could admit that his sister had died, and wasn't afraid that that made it all the more real. She was living vicariously through her lie. As if it made it ok that she could go around and judge him because her mother was in a mental institution or something. Sure, she knew what death was like and he had been wrong for telling her she didn't. But really? At least he somewhat accepted his sister's death, regardless of his anger towards her cousin. He wasn't going around lying about it and pretending that it hadn't happened. While she, she couldn't even admit it. She was too scared to let it be real.

But really? A pity party? His life was the exact opposite. On the outside, he was throwing the opposite of a pity party, he was holding a rave. No one said anything about his sister, it was an unspoken treaty. And that was that. No one but freshmen acted strangely about his deceased sister, only about his power on campus. She didn't have a filter did she? She said things without processing them, and it pissed him off to no extent. She made judgements about things she knew absolutely nothing about. She watched from her self-acclaimed high pedestal and judged whoever she felt like judging. He was sick of it. His mind raced around the things she had said in the previous days, things that had made him mad and annoyed. To be honest, some of the things she had said made him doubt himself. But now he felt stupid for ever doubting himself, for nothing she said mattered anymore. All of it had been bullshit. Her lectures about how he should get over it and how he was so pathetic. The fucking pathetic one was her.

He ran a hand through his hair as he always did when nervous. He turned away from her and looked out the large windows, cutting the thick space between them. She had won whatever battle they were fighting. It was all over. He didn't even say anything to her, no witty response, he was too angry for that. He contemplated his next movement. Break down the door to the outside world? No, that would risk hurting his leg for football. Jump from the window? Suicide was not on the menu for tonight. He had no options. No way out.

He looked back at her, still seething with anger but more observant. With the moonlight pouring in shining light on her long legs and the dress that just accentuated her too perfect body, he couldn't help but be more angry. Her attractiveness had been evident from the start, but in that specific moment it was all too obvious. That made it a thousand times worse. He didn't know what to do. Too angry for words. So he acted on impulse. Suddenly one hand landed on her waist, the other on her neck. His lips met hers, roughly, but not too much so. Why was he doing this? He often acted on impulse, but not like this, not with girls he hated. He just stayed like that for a second, his lips on hers. But when he realized what he was doing he pulled away.

[/size][/justify]

[baby osanne]

At first, her muscles tensed for the first few seconds he caught her off guard when his hands touched her. The last thing she expected, though, was for his lips to be on her's in such a rough manner and even less; for her to respond with her muscles practically melting and kissing him back. Maybe it was just the setting: alone in a lighthouse with a pretty nice view of one hell of a storm and the beach. Maybe that was it. There was no way she would want to purposely kiss him in any way, but him kissing her was seriously...

Unexpected.

So when he pulled away, she remained completely still, not entirely sure what to do or say. She just kind of looked at him completely confused. There wasn't even as much frustration written across her face as before. And then that was it. Reaching out with one hand across the very small amount of space between them, her small hand was on his shirt and she was practically pulling him toward her, her other hand going to his neck and suddenly she was kissing him again. Why? Why why why why WHY was she doing this? She was letting her instincts kick in when she normally would think things through logically and go with what would leave the least amount of damage behind for her and her father. What if her father saw her doing this instead of being at dinner with him? He would disapprove, she knew he would. It wasn't just because of who Lucas was or what family he belonged to. It would be because she had already complained to him about Luke and how she just couldn't get along with him. She figured it was just a clash of personalities. They simply didn't mix well.

And yet here she was, kissing him back after he so clearly had randomly kissed her when they had been arguing only a few seconds ago. Then there was grabbing. Then there was clothing coming off...Before she knew it, she was tangled up, limbs against limbs, sweat mingling, groans being exchanged, and overall...She had no idea what to think of it. So she didn't. For once she thought maybe thinking logically just wasn't right for this moment. She just had to ride it out and that was that.

Feeling the soft rays of the sun hitting her bare skin, she stirred slightly, hearing a thump thump thump steadily in her right ear and feeling her head rise and then fall gently. Her feline eyes opened only slightly to see the expanse of bare skin and further the opposite wall and windows, sounds of the ocean crashing against the rocks faint and relaxing. She closed her eyes again, content with where she was and for some reason thinking she was still dreaming until the smell hit her. It wasn't some awful smell. No, it was just a smell she hadn't really got to inhale since she moved to the United States. Piercing through the smell of the salty sand and refreshing ocean was the ever so clear scent of sex. Plain and simple sex. Almost immediately, the soft and pleasurably lazy grin on her attractive face faltered at the realization of what exactly happened that explained why her head, now that she thought about it, was on Luke's bare chest, his arm around her slender waist, and their legs caught up in each other. If she moved away, he would wake up...So should she just wait for him to wake up and attempt to wake up and make a run for it? But weren't they still stuck in there? Maybe her phone was working or she could quietly find his phone and call someone to open the door or something before he woke up...

For the time being, she just cast her eyes downward at her arm to easily draped over his lower abdomen as if she had known him her entire life, her one leg on top of his while the other was under, toes curling at the breeze coming in that gave her goosebumps. She'd have to explain to her father why she missed dinner...And that really wouldn't be an easy explanation because telling her father she was having a one night stand with the guy she disliked in a lighthouse because they got trapped there over night due to a storm..? Well, she was pretty damn sure fathers didn't want to hear about those kinds of things from their daughter. So her best bet, thinking logically of course, was to remain still until he woke up. Plus, she didn't really want to talk. She had this thing about morning breath...and she hated it. She knew her's was no better than anyone else's so she normally would put the covers over her mouth or use her hand to cover it to help save the person who she hoped would save her from such a foul stench.

But she had to admit...the smell of sex? It never got old.

---

--lucas