Greyscale (ivy_childe) wrote in elijah_wood_fic,

Getting the ball rolling

hi, I just joined...this is really my first community...So, anyway, just thought that I might get the ball rollin' here is a short song fic...enjoy and tell me what you think...


I am just a school girl
Living in a fantasy world
Now I'm outspoken
I walked around for a couple of years
Trying to convince myself
It was a plan I was to understand it

The rain was pouring down in sheets. Julia wrapped her coat a little more tightly around her and ducked as she ran out into the rain. This was her life. She glanced longingly back at the window, momentarily unaware of the tears soaking through her coat and drenching her skin. This was her fourth time here this week. She was beginning to like him. Perhaps, she could take him up on his offer to run away with him. No, he was like the rest, his infatuation would fade. The rain was soaking through her coat bringing her skin back into reality. This was her life. Holding them in the palm of her hand. Cradling their dirty secrets like warm liquid.

They say things to me like you're so beautiful
They spoke of other things like
How much do you charge?
You're youthful you can't hide behind that face
You're so youthful sit tight and stare

He peered out at her through the curtains. Never moving them, never wanting her to know that he was watching. Her red hair contrasting beautifully against her black jacket. The wild russet curls that he had fallen asleep to went dark and limp with the weight of the rain. She was beautiful, everything about her. No, he couldn't feel this way about her. She was nothing. Another passing woman. Another good fuck. She looked up at him. Peircing him with her iced eyes. She knew him, she could see right through him. It chilled him more than the rain did. He slipped away from the window, not wanting to be transparent anymore.

Silence stalks me pushes me through
I feel so broken
Turn the lights on a couple of times to see if you would exchange
I would not know if you turned them off

The coffee shop was a common place. A safehouse of sorts. Slowly, she slipped through the door. The warmth and noise a welcome change from the cold silent rain. Santana's 'Samba Pa Ti' played over the speakers. It was busy with morning consumers. He never saw her in the morning. Every night before they started, he left the cash on the dresser. She left before he ever got a chance to see her off. She liked it that way, no hard good-byes. Just running out into the acid rain and longing to sleep with him again. She fingered the cash, 100...400...950 for the whole night. He had given her fifty extra. They usually did in this part of the relationship. She slipped the rest into her pocket and the extra fifty into her bra. She had to keep it from Johnny, it was her earned money. She deserved it for going through this shit.

Maybe I'm allowed maybe it's in the book
Maybe I could shout down the walls
9 till 5 I hope it doesn't show
9 till 5 it's not a perfect thing

The warm water washed over him like silk. Washing away last nights sins, cleansing him. Making him able to go through the day like this. Go back to work. Go back to the fans. Keeping his dirty secret in the bedroom. He wondered how long it would take to break her down. What would become of her? Would he see her again? He wanted her to stay for a morning. He wanted to be different. Not just another customer. But still, he left the money on bedside table. Why? Why did he do it? Because he needed her. He needed to stare into the ice colored eyes, he needed to run his hands through her copper curls. To hear her voice cry out into the night. He needed her like he needed sin.

They said things to me like you're amazing
You speak of other things like
Is this going on my bill?
You're youthful you can't hide behind that face
You're so youthful sit tight and stare

She stirred the green tea in her cup and stared out at the rain. Straining her neck to look at the faces of any young men that ran through the rain. Hoping that she might see his face in the dark coats. What would she say to him? Would he even acknowledge her? No, she was another woman. Insignificant. To him. To anyone. They would slip a glance and he would go back to the man that the world knew. She would never be anything special. He would never see her for her true self. She would always just be a pretty, young thing; a good lay; another overpriced LA whore.

</i>You're Youthful
You know this time will not do
You're so youthful I own you now</i>
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